Sunshine Sunshine in my face, Warming my winter heart. Flowers I can nearly taste, This is how summer starts.

Dearest Diary; 2 -Day 4- Speaking is a chore. It is so hard to say what needs to be said. It feels like I'm trapped inside a box. I have so many words to say, so many thoughts to speak. But I can't. I always get so close to opening my mouth, and then the words get blocked by some opposing force. It is a never ending process. I am not afraid of embarrassment; I am, in fact, a walking embarrassment. I have accepted it. I am also not afraid of losing friends. They all love me for who I am. I am not afraid of being judged, either. I am simply afraid of myself. I don't want the oppotunity to talk too much. I don't want to give myself the chance to gossip and hurt the ones I love. And in order to do that, my mind shuts down all thoughts of speaking. It is my own fault I'm like this. I chose to be this way for the greater good. Sometimes, though, I wish I hadn't.

Dearest Diary I've decided to start my own "diary" entries on here. I'll write one whenever I need to express myself in ways other than poetry. Hopefully it will let you all get to know me better, and it will relieve me of some pains in my #life. Here we go, enjoy! -Day 1- All we did was meet at an oak tree. I offered you a greeting and you returned it humorously. In that moment, a new friendship began. It's strange how we were close for so long. Time moved too fast. We both lost track of it, because all we cared about was each other. Now years have passed. Three or four? I can't keep track. That's how lost I got. And though you may hate me, I am still lost in the time we spent together. I reflect on those memories every hour. They flood my mind and take me over. You fill my mind in the morning, throughout the day, and before bed at night. I've tried to block the thoughts of you, but doing that only triggers a dark cloud of #depression. The truth is, though my #life was full of twists and turns with you, it also means nothing without you. So I'll be here waiting for you, by the oak tree. Until you decide to come home.

Past Tense You saved And loved Me. You hugged And kissed Me. You smiled And promised Me. See, I sometimes wonder If you meant it all. Or if you just Wanted me to fall. That is something I will never know. Because it's past tense; A long time ago.

Shadow Of The Night It's dark. Too dark. The shadow of the night blends in smoothly. He figure shapes perfectly to walls and vehicles. Unlike many, he also hides behind the thinnest of telephone poles without being noticed. He is the definition of camouflage. It's quiet. Too quiet. The shadow of the night does not breathe. He must not, in order to stay undetected. He does not shuffle his feet. He does not drop his weapons. He does nothing, except slink from hiding place to hiding place, waiting on the right moment. It is time. To take down his next enemy.