AriannaTheKeybearer

I feel... that this is a dream. None of it's real. Nothing's what it seems. But sometimes I wake with a gasp and a start. Like being thrown in a lake, the cold waking my heart. And I look up in fear at what I've done. It's bringing me to tear, this monster I've become. The things I've said, the people I've hurt. I wish I were dead, Six feet in the dirt. This can't be real. I won't let it be. I don't want to feel. I don't want to be me. So I slip back into dreams, where everything's okay. Nothing's as it seems, but I get through the day.

The Avatar State: Just as there are four elements Existing in harmony with one another So too are there four states of poetry: [Air:] Air is the element of freedom Exemplified by the use of free verse It has no structure and no true shape But allows us creative control Through the use of air as a poetic medium We allow our emotions a freedom to be We allow them to soar upon worded wings Gliding freely through the skies of literature [Water:] Water is the element of the changing flow It can be hard as ice or as soft as snow. Its nature resembles the power of rhyme Which grants us order and a structured mind By pushing and pul

Leaving your country starts with getting rid of as many things as possible. You give your old CDs to your sibling’s friend. Donate your art books to a teacher. Throw out as many childhood mementoes as your mother allows. Sell your car. Swap your thick hoodies for your sibling’s t-shirts. Donate the rest of your clothes to a homeless shelter. You pack books from your old lovers and birthday presents from your current lover. You pack art supplies because they’re expensive to replace. You pack your country’s flag. You buy power adapters. You cross the world with everything you own in two suitcases and a messenger bag.