I’m not supposed to speak to you.
It’s this unspoken law.
This girl code,
This human silence.

So,
I let my poetry speak.
Let my words sing to you.
Let my stanzas sway you.

I miss you.
[Let me say that more poetically.]

My soul is longing for yours.
My heart is crying for you,
And the tears are the bloodiest of red.

I miss you.

This isn't anything new,
But I can’t tell you that,
You know I can’t.
It would go against everything that society programmed into me.
It would go against our very religion.
[and you know good and well that we aren’t the type to sin.]

So,
I’ll let my poetry speak.

I’ll never know if you’ll get this,
I’ll never know if you’ll read this,
But there’s the chance that excites me.
The hope,
The glimmer, and shine of aspiration.
It’s beautiful, isn’t it?

I’ll leave this here.
I’ll cast this poem into the world.
I’ll let it touch a million hands,
I’ll let it feel a million tears,
I’ll let the millions of people think that this is for them,
But maybe, just maybe,
We’ll know it’s only for us.

The words are only for us:
I miss you.

Poetically, I miss you.
What other way could I tell you?
What other way could I reach you?
I’m not sure, So till then,
I’ll write.

I've learned not to love
But to keep my heart close just in case
someone thinks it'd be fun
to cradle it and leave it in the ground.

I've learned not to hate
but to keep my anger at the ready just in case
I need to defend my loneliness
and keep others from getting to close.

I've learned to fear
but to never let it show just in case
someone takes it and mocks me
for being terrified of what others love.

I've learned not to hold a grudge
but never forget just in case
they do it again and again and again,
and I promise not to let them back in.

I've learned these things at the tender age of sixteen,
and these rules I set for myself I never follow.
I set up protectors, walls that keep out what I fear
but I crave the pain and darkness that comes along uninvited
when I roam past my walls into uncharted waters
and bypass every wall and rule I've set up
to keep my heart safe.

So people come and they cradle my heart
and then they leave it in the ground.
So people I want to love, I come to hate
because my anger goes out of bounds
and my loneliness is my sanctuary of calm and self-loathing
that I cannot just forget about.
So people know my fears
and they trample all over them when they forget,
when they don't care, when they become selfish
and spiteful, and arrogant, and ignorant.
So I hold the grudges, but I still let them back in
knowing that the same thing will happen.
But my self-worth is lower than Hell
so I crave the pain it brings because it reminds me that I am here,
still serving my punishment for living in such a world.

The day of love
Ahh, can you feel it in the air?
The answer is no.
No, you can't.
Because you are single, not taken,
and nobody around you is exuding love in an aura
because that is impossible for the human race to do so.
SO no, Valentine's day is not a day of love.
It is a day of eating chocolate
and is the same as you've ever been.

With shaking hands I grasp yours
I cannot run away.
You are lying ever colder now,
You're sleeping through the day.

And at night, you shall rise
from your body, through the roof
to the sky, where you shall lie
But I need to see the proof.

They say Heaven's where you'll be,
but you see, I don't believe
all I hear are all the lies
When I look into their eyes.

But if it's true, then I cry
Because I won't see you again.
And I know, you'll say I'll go to Heaven too.
But if Heaven is a place,
I'll never grow my wings.
I'll be dragged straight down, into Hell.

there are
on earth
as in places unknown

two types of people:
one stands before the camera

and the other
stands behind;

but it is on record
that they both
must
surely
die.

With these silver threads, I spin
a lie so elegant and beautiful
no one can help but to just see it at face value.

With this loom of gold the stories told,
so untrue, yet so revealing.
yet they never blink or criticize
because they're seeing, but not hearing

This display of fear is nothing more
than an illusion, just an act.
And with every replay I say,
Take a bow, this fear's a fact.

And this circus of my insomnia
will not let anyone look away.
They'll be captivated and sleepless
by the time they close their eyes.
But again, they'll never wonder
if they're as tired as I'm.

Such a display of character
Must simply be rejoiced.
But they never wonder, or ever doubt
If I ever got a choice.