Pieces

In my hands lay the pieces of my heart.
Broken, ripped, and torn.
Just pieces, old, unkempt.
They are useless.
I can not bring myself to throw them away.
I keep holding them,
Trying to fit them back together.
They don't.
The pieces are worn and weathered.
They don't fit anymore.
They are different now.
They have grown apart.
They have become their own.
I keep holding them to try and restore the damage.
To fit them back inside me where they belong.
Hoping beyond hope that it is not to late.
But time has passed, things have changed,
And in my hands the pieces remain.

Advice.

I would like to ask those who read my page a question. I have been offered by an outside friend to publish some of my writings. Should I do this? I would very much like to know your opinions.

Failure

I have failed.
I have lost again.
Why do I keep doing this?
I keep trying but why?
I know what will happen.
Why do I put myself through this?
I keep setting myself up to sink lower and lower into myself.
I hate that.
I hate this.
I hate everyone and no one.
I hate everything and nothing.
I failed again.
How can I do this?
How can I stop?
I can't, that is the problem.

Fantasy

The most beautiful place I have ever been is in the realm between dreams and reality. Not asleep and not awake. A level in the middle. A world between worlds. Where every sound I hear outside my dreams finds a way inside them. Where I can no longer tell if where I am and what I see and feel and do is real or not. This place is where anything can happen, any land can be conquered, and any love can be realized. I find myself not knowing if a memory is real or something I have dreamed. The line is blurred, the boundary crossed. I am anything and everything I wish to be. I am young and I am old. Wise and playful. Strong and weak. Nothing can stop me here, I can overcome all. This is the most beautiful place.

Young

I don't want to go grow up. I don't want to get older. I have seen what happens to people when they grow up, I am sad and afraid it will happen to me. As people grow older they find it hard to believe in what they can not see. People lose their innocence, they become harder and more cynical. They cannot see the imaginary world that they used to because it takes innocence and a pure heart to see them. When we were children we could see incredible things. A cardboard box became a tall beautiful castle. A stick became a rifle or sword in the heat of battle. A tree or bush became a fire breathing dragon guarding the princess. Now we can not see anything unless it is bought by money or on the television. Gone will be the days of complete trust and true friendship. I don't know about anyone else but I do not trust the way I did when I was a child. Trust was so easy because I had not allowed the world to make me suspicious of everyone. My friendships were true and better because we were never in competition with each other or fought over petty things. As I see people I used to know I am saddened that they have changed so much. That I have changed so much as well. I want to be young forever. Life was better and things were so much simpler but meant so much more. I want those days back. I want to be young forever.

Hero's and Villains.

Why can't the 'Bad Guys' or 'Villains' ever win?
Who decides who the 'Bad Guys' or 'Villains' are in the first place?
Sometimes hero's need to lose to stay hero's.
Sometimes hero's need to lose to stay human.
Is that why there are so few hero's left,
Because they are never allowed to fail?
Don't humans fail?
Don't humans lose?
So why can't hero's?