Weight presses down on my soul and my bone

I walk alone potential hurting me with what could be

they all look to me i’m shackled potential just cackles

it’s chained me down i’m trapped and they clap

success after success it just feeds this beast and they let it feast

now i’m hollow just soul and bone as i sit all alone

oh won’t you compress me tighten my limbs till they’re on the verge of breaking while I try not to try not to try presently absent or absently present this slippery potential bottle it up and drink it for dinner and somebody pour the wine while his passages — impossibly tender — slip their way past my devices and caress my core oh, loosen my world syllables and suitors

For the longest time I didn’t know what depression felt like I mean I’d had my fair share of sad and anxious But today I just sat there, Staring into space, Not thinking, Not feeling, Not existing, Yet the emptiness was infinite

And I didn’t feel sad or hopeless or terrified But I think the right word is hollow And I didn’t know what to do with myself I was scarcely there I didn’t move, I didn’t breathe. And I couldn’t figure out what was wrong Because nothing was, And at the same time so was everything

I didn’t cry Because I didn’t feel like it And in the back of my mind The anxiety screamed about this But I didn’t feel it

What was wrong with me? It asked Why was I mindlessly watching TV again? What happened to all my productive summer plans? To living life to it’s fullest? But I’d given up on that. At least for the moment, when the void was beating my brain, And I didn’t have priorities to waste Because I didn’t have anything. And now that I’m barely living, Aren’t I as good as dead?

words bubble up like soda pop

The body breaks But the soul is infinite potential The heart bleeds with pain But the soul flows with boundless love The brain tricks and fears But the soul speaks honestly and safely The eyes see good and evil But the soul sees everything as whole and faultless The body is not holding the soul But the soul holds the body in its immeasurable potential

When one’s force of will compliments preparation, potential is born

When I swing back up Do I end higher than when I began to fall?

All flowers have the potential to bloom Perhaps some more than others But all have the chance The potential To be something more Than just a plant Than just a weed But to bring more beauty To the world around them To make someone smile Lift someone up Help those in need The potential resides within all of them But will they act on it?

It all started at a dance Boys and girls Dancing around The boys asked for numbers The girls said yes Was it all a prank? It was because you’re pretty You have to say yes He thinks you’re cute Twirl your hair Spin around Give him your number It doesn’t matter if you’re sweet If you’re mean Or in between It’s because you’re pretty That he wants that number so bad

With beautiful skies and a slight breeze

The sapling rests upon the hill.

What could be the start of a group of trees

Or just a weed the world will kill.

A potential to be

Or pushed to the mud

A possible key

Or is just a dud

Words could sway the crowd.

Or words that aren’t allowed.

A voice could warm the heart.

Or a voice that’s lost its part.

The plant holds the gene to heal,

Resting unaware in the field.

When the rain will come conceal,

Will that plant be forced to yield?

A potential to be

Or pushed to the mud

A possible key

Or is just a dud

When the rain is finally gone

The sapling lay wilted and dead

It’s reached its grave by dawn

Just like others, life cut the thread