Self-Made Grave Spinning a blanket of regret A pillow stuffed with lies A velvety soft box is all you get This is the true demise. A lie is so fragile Woven with deceit Intricate patterns and pathways to fill A lie so perfect it can't be beat. Soul-filled walls Tear-soaked sheets An endless fall The perfect leap. The wind will scream In your ear Ripping at your seams, But you don't hear. Close your eyes, Shut them tight. They're just the cries Of another night.

Puppet Doll A tap of the foot, a swing of the hand The beat pulses through the ground you stand. Vibrating your ribcage all the while With that porcelain body and porcelain smile. A leap the air on one dainty foot, One wrong step and there goes its look. The fast paced spin without control- A completely calculated body roll. Slide the feet, twist the hand, Scuff the ground, hush the land. Complete silence one and all, Don't disturb the porcelain doll. One two three, one to three, Step now- you'll see, Leap, step, cross, spin, glide, bow, Lights Curtain Fín.

Hello. I am one to laugh, I am one cry. I am one to write! ...or at least, try. The world is my notebook, And is full of scribbles. From the tip of my quill, The ink will dribble. Bear with me for I may stray Onto your page and back I may Your words, on which, my head will lay And there it will, indefinitely stay. I am unwritten, I am untried. I am unsure, I am one side. Test you may, Prod you might. Do what you will, I am for sight. But only for one single showcase; My leap will surpass your meander-slow pace, Come near me, I dare you, have a taste, But tomorrow there will be all but a trace.