Searching

I am trying hard to set myself free

To find that place where I'm allowed to be me

Sitting in the rain looking for someone to trust

Without my armour just an object bound to rust

And my biggest fear is that I don't really know 

Where I am and where it is that I will go

I am trying to teach the world something that I must learn first

Searching for the answers that will quench this growing thirst

If you open me up and allow me to read you my heart

You will soon realize that it's not our covers that set us apart

smiling on a bad day upside down

It takes alot to wipe this smile off my face

without it I feel quite out off place

I take it with me everywhere

and hand it out 'cause I know to share

and when you see me start to frown 

know I'm smiling upside-down :)

A certain shade of red

His tears, only existent in his heart, were red. They were marked with pain, anger,love. 

She would wear the same colour on her wings which were as real as the tears that poured down this left cheek.

They stopped living to the songs of their heads a long time ago realizing that they much preferred the unpredictable roller coaster of their heartbeat.

One. Two. One. Two.

Testing the universal microphone. Could anybody hear them? Was anybody listening? Their voices were hidden from the world minus one; but what more could they ask for?

For the red that he shed and the red that she wore brought colour to their black and white lives. 

They read your words before you've said them

There is an unwritten potential looking for a voice, searching for an ear. There is this constant tension, something must be said. And even when no one is speaking there is this constant communication, need for interaction. There is always a statement to be made even if it is that you don’t wish to make a statement. There is no escaping it because there is always someone out there trying to decipher your coded message. They can read your signs, your minds, your palms, your cards. You speak when you aren’t even making a sound. You can speak with your hands and your body. It’s in the way you walk and talk and sit and eat. It’s in the music you listen to, the clothes you wear. You are a living message. So tell me then if we are always communicating, who we are speaking to? Is it society that receives all of our sms’s? Hate to break it to you, Mr Society, but I wasn’t talking to you!

Why do we concern ourselves with other people? Constantly concerned with what they do, who they socialise with. We are taught to read people. Read what it says in his eyes. Read what it says in the way she flicks her hair. You can’t read a book by staring at the cover so stop telling me that I can!

Mr Society, you may not be my Prince Charming but looks like we are all ready to settle for you, our loser in aluminium foil. 

Yes, occasionally I have something intelligent to say. Some call it luck but I prefer to see it as utilised opportunity. Maybe I just speak with the intention of sounding cool but the joke is still on you.  

Yes, maybe this is nonsense but there is always logic behind it. I may speak a string of words tied into a pretty bow but at least they look nice.

Yes, this may not be the latest news or most recent trend. It may not be topical, interesting or even entertaining. I am on the other hand (on which I have five fingers) a person with a lot of words. A lot of words that by “luck” could turn someone’s day around or even just their frown.  

You may just call it luck but I say that it’s an opportunity waiting to be utilised.     

Chloë Rose