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Am i happy with my body?
pinch pinch pinch
Will you smile to the mirror
Or make yourself sick?

Is anyone okay
With who they really are?
Is 100% even possible
Give me a sign if you are?

Am i disgusted with myself?
Yeah, maybe.
With so many flaws here and there,
But i guess its alright,
I happen to love my hair.
People throw knives at one another,
Not so much the cold steel,
But words.
Black and white.

Sticks and stones,
They might now break your bones,
But they sink down
Into something that youll never be able to take back.
Because words are glue,
They hold this world together,
And when i found those words,
You cut into my very heart.

I never thought i did that to you.

I never thought i used my words to cut into you,
But i guess i did,
So i guess its fair.

And now we're both kids at the playground,
Waiting for the other to cry first,
Neither of us wants to,
But this game goes on far too long.

So im going to play on the monkey bars,
Like the child that i am,
Because there is freedom in the sky,
And in the movement of my body.

So im going to go clean out my new car,
And dance in the driveway with my love,
And im

Going

To stop using my words
*Like knives
I was still in love with you on your bad days

When you wanted to be nowhere, nothing,

When you disappeared under the covers and

I felt them shake with sobs and the first thing you said

When you felt my hand trailing up your spine

Was, “I’m sorry, love. Did I wake you up?”

Sometimes, with puffy, red eyes, you’d tell me

To leave you. You’d tell me that loving you was

A waste of my time and that I deserved more

Than you could ever be, but when you fell against

The front door, kicking and screaming at me

For giving you a reason to stay that you didn’t want,

I was there. Even when I was the only string

On your finger, the only thing keeping you from

Floating away, I loved you.

At night, when the sound of rain falling on the windowsill

Kept me awake, you’d tell me what your world was like.

Sometimes it would scare me, just like it did you,

But I told you that you could stay in mine awhile.

Sometimes you would stop talking mid-sentence

And I would ask you what was wrong.

When you said nothing at all, I knew you hadn’t

Said, “nothing at all.” I knew there was a difference.

You said you didn’t understand me, why I would

Stay with you when you were like this, and I said,

"I’m in love with you," eleven times over

Until I thought, for about an hour,

You believed me.
Sometimes at stoplights

I turn to you

And see the silhouette of your face

And decide all over again

That I’m in love with you.

I look out the window, down

At the gravel road beneath your tires

So you won’t see me blushing

Or biting my lip when you laugh

And inside my head, I beg you to make

Another lap around the neighbourhood.

Sometimes the distance between

My hand and yours

Hurts to think about

Because how easy would it be

For me to reach over

And curl my fingers into yours?

And maybe I wouldn’t even

Have to pretend

I didn’t mean to.

I wonder if you saw the way

My lip trembled when I thought

Maybe I’m just going crazy -

I wonder if you heard

About the way your name

Makes my head spin.

Sometimes at dawn

When I’m only now saying

Goodnight to you, I think about

Saying, “wait,” at the last minute

But I wonder whether or not

I would be able to go through with it -

Whether I even had any idea

How to put this into words,

Or if I might just start crying

Because oh my god,

How long have I wanted to kiss you?

I wonder if, all those times

I paused and told you

Anything just to say another word,

You knew.
It was never meant to be serious.

It’s funny how easy that is to say

Before you begin.

"No strings attached" is easy to agree upon

Until you’re hanging from a cliff

And they’re safely above with yards and yards of rope

That they would use to save you

If you weren’t

You.

And you have to say, as your palms begin to

Sweat on the edge and you lose grip on the crumbling rocks

That he seems happy.

You have to remind yourself as you grasp desperately

For a hand that doesn’t exist

That this is what you agreed to.

You touched my hand,
and the poetry in my fingertips,
suddenly disappeared.
It’s what you do to me,
you make my words turn into warmth,
and maybe,
finally,
I’ve found someone I can’t write about.
someone,
who takes the poetry out of my fingertips,
and gives me peace of mind.
Even when I’m not writing

I’m writing

Spinning words in my head

My spider web mind

captures insect thoughts

lurking around the premise

A natural act

My spider web mind

threads insect thoughts in

so that they can be

Eaten up

at a later time
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