Thursday, February 24, 2011

I travel through time and space.
I am 907-years-old, from the planet
Gallifrey, that fell victim to the Time War.
I am, a Timelord.

If that doesn't prove my nerdiness,
I don't know what does.

Inside a tiny blue box.
It's bigger on the inside.
Time And Relative Dimension In Space.

I can make the stories of the
Doctor Who
universe approachable, intriguing
and terrifying.

Count the shadows,
for the love of God,
count the shadows.
Don't blink, don't even blink.
Blink and you're dead.

The angels have the phone box.

Wednesday, February 23, 2011

The truth about..

Things stop getting frightening
and start getting real.
All you hear is
"your future this" , "your future that"
and "where will you be in 5-10 years?"
What?!
How the hell am I supposed to fathom that?
The truth is, as much as
I can't wait to get out of this
dull, monotonous lifestyle,
I'm terrified to leave this safety net.
Plummet into the world of adulthood,
planning a future.
The 4-year-old inside my brain is
screaming.
By God, I miss you.
I'll never regret anything of you.
It'll be years down the road
and you will cross my mind.
Remember,
                    I loved you.
I wouldn't change a thing.
You've been with me through so much.
I'll think of you later,
with nothing but a fondness.
You meant so much to me.
You mean so much to me.
Drowning in the classical.
Floral scents travel the path
of twirling feet.
En pointe is dancing on top
of the world.
Swimming in living art.
Light of the stage is the sunshine of
my world.
Broken woes and calloused toes.
Hidden behind tulle and bows.
A secret hell inside a world where silence
yells.
I am meaningless.
One hopeless molecule in this
phantom world.
                      I am constantly glanced over.
But without me,
this world wouldn't be as we know.
Millions of us,
and all of us makeup this world.
I am a piece of this giant
p    z    l
   u    z    e.
I don't blame it on you.
   I never did.
       Death was just the
trigger to
                    the
                       spiral
                 that
           just
happened
          to
             lead
                   d
                   o
                   w
                   n
                   w
                   a
                   r
                   d.
I want you to know I'm better now,
but I still miss your voice.
           Not that there was much of a
                       choice.

            You saved me.
Poetry is a dignified
method for humans
to express the everyday
pangs and scorns without
care of specific judgement.
An escape from the constant
flow in your
unrhythmic mind.
A chance to turn
frustration
               into
  Art.