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Love is not blind,
but he who did not see your worth.
Copyright © 2018
I like the way your

lips feel, pressed to my collar.

I like the way your

fingertips dance on my skin,

like it's what they're meant to do.
feelings are okay.
it is apart of being human.

we feel things.
and if no one told you,
your feelings are always valid
its okay
Mental illness is rising
psychologists's career are booming,
social media is redefining
making it a beautiful suffering.

Sadness has become boring,
misery has become enchanting.
Scars have become beauty,
grief has become engaging
and depression has become alluring.

Emotions have become art,
heartbreak has become a heart wrenching song.
pain has become poetry
and mental illness has become
edgy-tending label.

When did they start to disguise agony
behind such beauty?
They say,
"You were happier on the pills."
They say,
"The things you do give us chills."
They say,
"Are you even trying?"
They say,
"Why are you crying?"
They say,
"Your life isn't that bad."
They say,
"You have no reason to be sad."
They say,
"You can't live alone."
They say,
"You can't ever atone."
They say,
"We love all of you."
They say,
"Except the things you do."

I say,
"All you are is talk."
I say,
"You erase me like chalk."
I say,
"You love me but you don't."
I say,
"You want me to do what you won't."
I say,
"I'd be better off dead."
I say,
"I'm a burden that needs shed."
I say,
"Check the mirror."
I say,
"Don't shed a tear."
Crispy paper
Brittle pen
Where to start
Where to begin
Grain of gold
On blue ink bend
Sell for mold
A shackled stench.
Taking racks
Of ruby trays
Alas of now
Good coming day
Shortened phase
Scratched in dye
The color crimson
Of poesys side.

— The End —