Taylor. On a rainy day I arrived Born into a white room Dimly lit by the pale moon Couldn't believe I survived. I opened my eyes I took the first steps Memories that you've always kept But every angel dies. On a rainy night I said goodbye Sitting in a dark room Dimly lit by the crying moon Pulling the trigger with a sigh. I closed my eyes I took my last breaths Ready for a peaceful rest Because every angel dies But I promise you one thing I'm in paradise Don't worry. ~ A #poem I wrote for the tragic loss of a beautiful angel.

Johnny This here's a #poem I wrote for Johnny, my favorite character from The Outsiders by S.E. Hinton. This probably won't make a lot of sense if you haven't read the book, so sorry about that. The flow is also pretty terrible and all. I'm going to be revising this soon. This is the version I wrote in like two minutes. When I finish editing and improving this, I will post the new one. ~ JOHNNY I am guilty of all that they say I won't deny; I won't cry Go ahead and just put me away The flames will quickly rise I will slowly sink Ashes for a disguise And smoke with no cigarette They'll think I'm a hero For sparing those innocent little lives But what they don't know Is I once claimed a #life that wasn't mine I am guilty of all that they say I won't deny I surely won't cry Because we all know I was never meant to stay

The Gift Your conceptualized flaws Were truthfully nonexistent, But I have to admit; Your eyes always seemed so painfully distant. I'd bend and I'd break For a sight of your smile, But now I can overtly see Your seemingly beautiful intentions were vile. I gave you my everything I took the unforeseen fall, But you left me lying broken, Didn't care to answer a single crying call. I sat helplessly, Sure you could never just simply abandon me, But lord, was I wrong You were using me all along. I prayed and I prayed As inside me, she wept and she kicked, Begging for a final resolution To this sorrowful conflict. Nine months sure felt like eternity, sobbing alone and desperate, Utterly shocked that this was the regrettable end of it. I can't say I went in painless peace, Can't even say I was loved at the least, But I gave the world a gift, A glowing light in the haze, And from the wonderful up above, She is the one I will forever praise.

Room 209: Preface I have reluctantly made the decision to write a novel based off the events in a dream I recently had. I doubt if I will post the chapters here, but let me know what you guys think. If you want me to, then I might. I'm just not sure if you're interested in where it's going. ~ He had light brown hair touched by a sort of caramel hue, permanently pink cheeks, and a smile that, when activated, lit up a whole room and brought all the focus in the world to him and his angelic face. He was a mere eight years of age, but possessed the height and weight of the average five or six year old, as he had always been the runt of the pack within his friends and family. The young boy sat patiently waiting in the freshly wet grass, humming an upbeat Billy Idol tune to himself - one that he vividly remembered hearing play in his car several months ago. He hadn't particularly cared for the song, but the thought of music in general brought some hope into his #life, giving him a euphoric sensation. He had never been quite sure what it was with him and music, but he'd developed a serious relationship with it around the age of two, as his mum claimed that he would always start giggling when she murmured lyrics to him in her arms, or even turned on the radio whilst buckling him in his car seat. He knew music and its many tones, instruments, and meanings would always hold a dear part in his #life. He looked up, gently brushing the fallen leaves from the towering maple tree out of his long, unkempt hair. He could barely spot a flesh-colored speckle in the distance, growing larger and larger with each second. "Jay!" he cooed, clumsily waving his arms through the air. His best mate approached, a mischievous grin plastered on his youthful face. "Hi, Tay-Tay," he responded, plopping down in the green grass. Jayden (or Jay, as Tayler called him) was a lot different than Tayler, despite their shared obsession with harmonies and instrumentals. For one, Jayden had soft, groomed blonde hair down to his ears, which waved slightly at the ends. At the age of six, he was much more mature than Tayler in many ways. Not only was he taller by three inches, but his face, although so young, was much more captivating and appealing compared to the way Tayler's face was simply adorable. They also both acquired completely opposite looks, style wise. Jayden loved his white tshirts, fitting blue jeans, and high tops, while Tayler always seemed to prefer any sort of shirt containing stripes, followed by khaki shorts and sandals. Neither boy gave too much of a care for their physical appearance otherwise, but they could both easily agree that they would swap eye colors with each other in a heartbeat, as Jayden desperately desired Tayler's oceanic eyes, while Tayler felt the same for Jay's emeralds. Jayden ran his hands through his luscious locks and grinned merrily at Tayler, revealing a full set of precious, deep dimples. Tayler leaned over and giggled, poking his left cheek. "Don't poke my dinkles!" Jayden laughed, slapping his hand away. He had always called dimples "dinkles," just a habit he'd picked up the moment he could speak for the first time. The boys smiled at the sunrise, satisfied with every aspect of their lives. They knew that they would spend every waking moment together that they could, and never expected one to lose the other in the most shocking of ways.

The Stranger Known As You They say "You," I say what? They repeat, "yes, You" I say "You who?" So They check my vital signs And say, You are alive. I smile, Knowing You is well For one day, I can possibly meet You And find out more about them. And possibly be just like them. They say You is an outsider, The forbidden outcast No one seems to notice, Or even cares to. I can relate. They then told me You is to be addressed as Myself, So I complied Because that is what I always do. I would still love to come across Myself Someday Any day. They are the only companion I could ever know. But They said Myself is no good, no good at all, a mere ant on the sidewalk Unknowingly waiting to be crushed by the passersby Who possess the one identity That is praised. So I suppose That if I should never follow in Myself's footsteps, it is okay; I will always have my friend Somebody Else To show me the ropes of #life, And follow in their lead.