Subtle wisps of cloud hang above the treetops,
inching quietly along the ocean of the air...

The chords strum lost sadness,
reverberating through a medium of color...

I can't think.
This mask muffles the sounds...

So the beauty of the world
lies in the sheer splendor...

This boy, I have not met
he seems to capture me, my mind...

The dark side of the moon has never looked...
the trees never seemed taller, or their leaves...

Step into my soul.
The area you consume in me...

It is strange how the simplest
of gestures can mean so much...

If you toss your standards to the wind,
the obstacles and demons that used to know you...

I hate him.
I hate everything he's caused in my life...

If you're lost,
show me the colors you like...

I'm picturing this yellow post-it note,
that grasps the stem of the rose...