Wind Up Doll Today, I am a wind up doll, So please, come turn the key My face is fixed And as I move I feel a bit, Mechanical. But still I walk a forward pace, Though I really don't go far The key will move And I will move But inevitably I Stop Because I am a wind up doll My body begins to droop So very still I stand bowed down Think of it as, Fate And then I'll turn the key again Wound up so nice and tight, Forward walk, An even pace How far to go Before I, Break Oh, an extra turn I see My gear still make me move. But again I slow, And I will droop, And soon I'll cease Move Don't worry about me, The wind up doll. Just see how far I'll go Behind a fix a face I'll show an exhaustion That no one, Seems to, Know.

Clear We look up at the sky, And we marvel at all the colors. The sun set and the world turns dark, No moon, no stars, instead a small fire. I look at her, the burning glow of it on her face. She seems to come into focus, I can see her clearly now How many times have we looked at the sky, To see the sun set over our heads, Signally the death of another day. How many moonless, starless nights Have we seen together? Countless times have I been here, With her, warmed by a fire. Today though I'm not warmed by it's heat, Instead, I can feel her closeness, she's radiant. Her smile, a smile as familiar as my own I know her thoughts, I know her secrets I feel her emotions as if they are my own I lean in, it is clear now, brought into focus We're stumbling into something new, But something not new at all.

Promise I promise to not be perfect, I promise to be me. I promise to you that what you get, Will be exactly what you see. And while I'm making promises, Really I should say, I promise to make myself happy, In every single way. It really is a shame, That I'll achieve these on my own. It's honestly disappointing, I'm a stranger in my own home. But I will keep my promises, And one day you will see. That by myself i made it, I promise to be free. I promise to have a family. I promise to live my #life. I promise that I won't go down, Without giving one hell of a fight. I promise I won't take judgement, Not even if its from you. And i promise to consider god, In everything that I do. I know that will make you angry, But know it will be okay. I know god doesn't hate me, Which is why I still try to pray. You've told me that I'm ugly, And abomination in god's eyes. Then how come when I stand alone, It's god who answers my cries. So I make the promises, So that everyone will see. That I refuse to be ashamed. I only promise to be me.

She Is... Have you ever tried, To put someone you love into words. I try to write about her beauty, Her charm, her passion. I come with words that are, Average. I assure you, average she is not. How do you make extraordinary, Into something so ordinary. I could start with her eyes, I'd tell you that they are green. That when I looked int them in feel... But then, I'd have to stop. Because the how do you describe A feeling... without a name? I could tell your that in her eyes was, Warmth. Like coming inside on a snowy, Winters day. But there is more, it's almost like #life. As if the universe itself was born in her eyes. Almost. I wish I could say more, I would, If only language allowed. Maybe if I describe her smile. Have you ever sat under a shady tree, And just looked at the sky, the clouds, the light? Suddenly you become the only person in the world. Her smile, it singles you out. It picks you out from a crowd, makes you noticeable. I know, it sounds scary. I was scared. But then you find yourself loved, adored. Her smile, it find the best in you. And let's everybody else see it. Her smile is realization, it's truth. You may not have known before but in that crowd. You were alone, she found you. It's home, her smilies home and pleasure. It's truth and realization. Her smile is peace for all mankind. But she isn't and angel, not the slightest bit. She is mischievous and selfish and childish. And loyal, and loving and kind. She is waking up late on Christmas Eve, Sneaking downstairs and looking, Hoping for a peak of Santa. It's way past your bedtime, But mommy and daddy would never know. So you leave your room. Tiptoe quietly, make no noise at all. You walk past mommy and daddy's room. You look downstairs and... Santa! She is believing in the unbelievable. And she is a child's mischief and a child's hope. Her purity is achieved by being honestly dishonest. I could go on forever but I'd be stopped short. I search desperately for the words, To tell you about the girl I love.