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Tiny specs of imperfection wound his fragile heart. Deep, dark secrets hide within the depths of his fragile, teenage mind. Forgotten memories and faded dreams are engraved within the walls of his head. Life is exhausting for him. At night, when the lights are turned off and the world goes to sleep, he sheds a tear. He spends his time at the edge of his bed with his head buried in his delicate hands, wishing that everything would just end. Loneliness is his sole companion. Negativity dominates his vulnerable soul. Insecurities pierce at his self-esteem. He is at war with the only person whose thoughts, actions, and emotions he can control - himself. Time is wasted. Everyday he questions his own potential. He does not take the time to fix his own flaws; instead, he embraces them. He is lives in the past. He starts to question what he could he have done differently - what could he have done to save her? At times he cannot handle all of the tension. It builds up to the point that it simply becomes unbearable. He has forgotten how soft, everlasting joy felt like. Sometimes he is hurt and completely shattered. Invisible bruises cover his entire body. Sometimes he just feels like giving up on his dreams, on his aspirations, on himself. He wants to end the pain. He frequently finds himself at the edge of a cliff, wondering if he would ever have the courage to jump.

Though he yearns to be embraced in the arms of someone, he acquires of feeling of satisfaction from solitude. He craves it. Isolation from others supply him with the comfort that he wants - that he needs. He does not want to spend his entire life chasing people who do could care less about him. He fears abandonment. Sometimes he just messes things up. He gets moody; he gets needy. He does not want people to judge him, so he detaches himself from the world. The best remedy for him is to spend his time alone. He would have the time to pull himself together, the time to analyze, the time to abandon the past and live in the present. When he is alone, he does not feel disdain; he does not feel guilt. He does not feel rejected or scorned. All he desires is acceptance.

He wants to be free; he wants a break from reality. He yearns to escape the dark realms of pessimism and melancholy and be engulfed in a pool of fluorescent, sanguine sunshine. He longs to be trapped a surrealistic realm of dreams where he can discover the happiness that he solely craves. He has a sudden urge to frolic through a field of sunflowers and roll over patches of soft, verdant grass. He wants the rain to beat down on him - the cold, refreshing droplets of water would collide with the warmth of his body, washing away the specs of dust left behind by the sorrow that he felt in his heart. Every time he sees shooting stars illuminating the obscure, night sky he makes a wish. He wants to change. He wants to heal. He wants to breathe again.

He wants to find peace.

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