Why can't I get you out of my head?

I think I'm falling for you, and that scares me.

And sometimes,

she wishes that she'd finally be enough for someone.

She is my comfort in my storm,
The breath in my lungs
The soul in every poem that I write

When her hands are on my body
And her lips are on my neck
Her name is the prayer on my tongue

The price of admittance into my heart is:

One (1) smile
Two or more (2+) kind words
Three (3) words, said like they were meant
And an infinite amount of patience as I work through my problems.

I wasn't taken, Mama.
I went willingly, pomegranate
juice staining my lips ******.

I am not helpless, Mama.
I am darkness, power, a Queen.
You gave me flowers and he gave me
his everlasting worship.

I am his queen, Mama, his goddess.
He says that I am the one that
brought him to his knees, Mama,
and he is right. I am a terrible
beauty, and oh, I put him on
his hands and knees in worship.

Do not come looking for me, Mama,
because your innocent flower is
nowhere to be found. All that is
left is blood and bone and
pomegranate juice staining my
hands and mouth and setting me free.

When my mom first thought that I was gay,
She and my father sat me down at the kitchen table.

I was fifteen and thought I was in love,
And all they could do was scream at me...

‘You’re a sin; what you feel isn’t natural.’
‘Where did we go wrong?’

And all I had wanted was to love in peace.
But apparently, that was too much to ask from them.

So I stifled myself.

I cut myself off from her and let us wither
Until there was nothing left of us because
I wasn't normal
And I was fifteen
And all I wanted was my mother’s approval
And how could I gain that if I wasn’t normal?

And then I was sixteen and I thought I was in love again
But this time with a seventeen-year-old boy
That knew nothing of love
And everything of sharp edges and even sharper words
But he spoke so pretty to me,
And how could I resist?

But he hurt me worse than anyone else that I’ve known
And he never even cared…

And then I was seventeen.

I was seventeen and my best friend had this mane
Of beautiful hair and I called her lovely and wife
And all the other silly little pet names that high school girls do
But little did she know that her smile
Lit fireworks inside my brain and the swarms of
Butterflies that beat in my chest rivalled that of a drum.

I thought she was beautiful.
I saw the universe in her.

But how could I admit that to myself without admitting it to
My mother, the one person whose validation I crave like
Air and water and life itself?

How could I admit to her that I wasn’t
Her little girl anymore?
That I was a disappointment?

And then I was eighteen.

I was eighteen and numb and not looking for anything when he found me...
I was eighteen and I thought that surely,
Surely
This was it, this was the feeling that I was waiting for.

But it wasn’t and I was eighteen and alone again
But this hurt worse than the others and then I was gone after that summer.

Now, I’m almost nineteen.

I’m almost nineteen and I’ve accepted the fact that
I will disappoint my mother;
The one whose opinion that I value the most;
The one that gave birth to me;
The only one that can tear me down until I feel like nothing.

But she’s my mother so how could I let her go
When she was there for my first word and my first steps
And every one of my other firsts.

My first date.

My first dance.

My first breakup.

She was there when I left for college, and she’ll be there when (if)
I get married.

Because regardless of my choices,
She loves me, and she always will.

And even if I can’t bring my partner home,
I will love her all the same.

So mom, if you see this,
I’m sorry.

I’m sorry that I didn’t turn out how you wanted.
I’m sorry that I disappointed you.

But I’m not sorry for being who I am.

I’m not sorry for thinking women are beautiful
And men are handsome
Because all the world needs is a little bit more love,
And who am I to deprive it of that?

I am scared to let go of my sadness. It has become such a big part of my life that I don’t know what I would be without it, and isn’t it better to stick with something familiar rather than throwing your entire personality away on the off chance that you’ll get better?

I am scared to be left alone in this terrible world filled with terrible people. My fear is so much a part of me that I don’t know what I’d do if not worrying about what is to become of the mess of a person I’ve become, and isn’t it better to stick with something familiar rather than throwing your entire personality away on the off chance that you’ll get better?

I am scared to try and fix myself. I am scared to try and become a better person because if I’m a better person then it will just hurt more when I **** up and isn’t it better to stick with something familiar rather than throwing your entire personality away on the off chance that you’ll get better?

What happens when you’re dying, and
you still have tasks that you need to complete? You fight harder to live.
You fight for your friends, your family, your love.
You fight for those who can’t fight for themselves.
You fight for the helpless.
You fight for the joyless.
You fight for those who don’t know how to fight.
You fight for yourself.
How does one fight for oneself?
You carry on, no matter what happens, no matter
what you do.
You must carry on.
Ultimately you die fighting for something too
far out of your reach.
You die searching for the one you love
or doing the things that you enjoy.
You die content, or you die incomplete.

I'm standing in the ashes of who I used to be,
The binding chains have finally set me free
All of the prison bars that used to surround me
have finally crumbled around my feet

It is his words that finally wake me
His feather-soft sentences ensconce my body
His gentle hands roam lightly
He is the one that sets me free.

I'm standing in the ashes of who I used to be,
Princess of the night, violent and angry
I played my part; they let me be,
until he finally saw me for me.

Be all my sins remembered,
Like all of our sins before.

The sins of my flawed father,
That I, the eldest daughter bore

Be all my sins remembered
Rather than all of my good deeds

My sins are signs of my humanity
They’re signs of my shameless needs

Be all my sins remembered
Let her name forever be twined with mine

I have tasted heaven on earth
I am hers to the end of the line

And it is only in the darkness
that the stars begin to burn.

Inside, I am nothing more than a child
with a branch for a toy sword,
Brandishing it up against
The monsters and villains of my own mind

Inside, I am nothing more than a child,
Crying out for forgiveness for my
Multitude of sins
Against my ancestors of days past

Inside, I am nothing more than a child
That feels as though she isn’t
Good enough for those she loves;
She isn’t good enough to be here

Inside, I am nothing more than a child
That feels as though
She is nothing more than an inconvenience,
That she is nothing more than a burden

Upon my beating heart
A little bird perches and trills
Of life’s many wonders
And its numerous thrills

Of love and war, I hear him sing
Of how war does hurt
And of how love does sting

Of loss, he chirps,
And of bloodshed, of death
But it’s my love he sings of
With a final shuddering breath

When we met, I was Blue,
Shaking, trembling, sobbing
I was the Pacific Ocean;
Cold and withdrawn.

You said hello, and I was Yellow.
A happy, carefree, summergirl.
Yellow as buttercups, as the sun
Warm and caring and healthy.

As I fell, I turned Orange
A warm and comforting love
A cosy couple, a mug of apple cider couple
And a pile of fallen leaves couple.

I turned Gray when winter came
And chased you away from me
I was cold and lifeless once more
But without me, you were also Gray

We came together a second time
And I was Red as the setting sun
Red as roses, Red as the blood in our veins
Red as the hearts that beat for one another once more.

I realize that you probably hate me.
Don't worry
I hate me too.
You say that you don't,
but I see the anger, the sadness, the disgust
that lives and thrives on the lies
that are told, either for the
protection or self-gain of those who tell
them.
Your disgust thrives on my flesh,
eats into my bones,
leaches into my brain.
Shatters me.
I realize you hate me.
Don't worry
I hate me too.
I draw on my wrists with silver
but
it
comes
out
red.

I ended us today.
I never knew that you'd hurt me this way,
that you'd lie to me,
that you'd break my heart.
He said that you had a girlfriend.
But you said you loved me.
You said you wouldn't leave,
but here we are,
broken-hearted
with acid tears streaming
down our cheeks,
thoughts of death flitting through our heads.

He was so young and so doomed.
A boy.
Only 16.
He’d slay his angels and slow dance with his demons,
But he loved with all of his shattered heart,
And that?
Well that was what made him mine.

It's hard to believe in love...

...when you seem to grow tired of it so quickly.

How many times have we waited
Waited and watched
For someone to notice
That the smile we practice
For hours is fake?

How many time have we watched
Our lovers,
Our friends,
Our family
Leave us to the demons in our head?

How many times have we waited
For someone to care
That we’re not there
To laugh and
To smile?

How many hours did we practice
Looking fine,
Looking excited,
In the mirrors that never showed the
Whole picture?

Because they never do.
Pictures and mirrors never show
What’s inside the mind.
If only they did;
Then we’d all be fine.

How many times were we asked
‘Are you alright?’
And how many times did we say
‘Everything’s just fine,’ but,
In reality, we were dying inside?

How many times did
Everyone pretend to care
That the light on the inside
Was hardly
Ever there?
~A.L.W.

From me to you and back again
The wine of love stains our hands

The night does sigh in jealousy
Of the searing heat between you and me

Our bodies twist and dance and then
Your walls falter and you let me in

I grip your hands and hold you close
Time freezes with us in lovers’ pose

We twine like two codependent vines
I promise you that you’ll always be mine

Despite all the time we lost
It is you I love the most

We each start out with three hearts...

And then we love,

And before we know it,

All of our hearts are gone.

Only this time,

There's no respawning.

I turned 16 the other day.

There's nothing much different,

yet here I am,

a year older, a year closer to death...

a year closer to living the life that I  want.

A year closer to making the change for the better.

A year closer to getting better.

How much do you want me to do?
How much will be enough?
When will it stop?
When can I just...
Stop?

Saying goodnight is always hard,

and perhaps it's because I'm scared of the dark.

Or perhaps I'm scared of what may become visible the next morning.

She touches my skin, and I am set ablaze
I rise to meet her touch as birds rise into the sky,
and all I can think of is her

She speaks my name and it’s like a prayer on her lips,
a religion that only she and I are a part of
She speaks my name and I become weak

We talked today.
I'm not sure if it affected you as it did me,
but,
I'm not willing to stand here,
my bleeding heart in my hands,
waiting for a sign from you that it's okay to let go.
---------------------------
We spoke today,
and I broke down sobbing.
I truly believe that I **** everything up,
everything, everyone that I love,
I ruin them.
--------------------------
We bled today,
waiting for those we love to love us back,
but,
we're not patient enough to be the ones
holding hearts in bleeding hands.

How many words does it take to build someone up?
Maybe one, if you're lucky, and if you're happy.
Maybe more if you struggle to believe
that the compliments you receive are true.
Maybe more if you believe that you're incapable
of being
loved.
Liked.
Missed.
But I wouldn't know,
I've no experience.
And how many words does it take to break someone?
This, I can answer with certainty.
It only takes one well-placed word to break someone's mind,
to lose someone,
and that word?
Well, that's
goodbye.

...when I said that I was over you.

I just didn't want to be the one with the broken heart.

But that backfired didn't it?

But maybe we ended for a reason...

because you didn't know how to handle my tidal waves of emotion.

But...

I don't want you back, at least, not like that.

I want the 2 a.m. conversations, the comfort that you gave me when I cried, or screamed, or raged, or even just sat there, lost in the toxicity of my mind.

I miss being wrapped in your arms, security that they were.

But most of all...

I.

Miss.

You.

I wasn’t made to love long-distance;
I was made to love up close and personal...

I was made to feel
your breath on my lips,
your hands on my hips,
and your words in my ears.

He said I was beautiful...

But he followed that with the words,

"But we're better off as just friends."

Perhaps it’s time

I don’t understand

You’re right, and this is where I draw the line

Can you please explain?

I’m tired of this life, tired of the lies

I had no idea you were in pain.

Does anyone, really?
Do they really expect it?
Do they have any idea to expect the worst from me?

No, they don’t.

That’s right, they don’t. I hide it too well.

No, you don’t. I saw. I noticed.

And you were too late. Don’t you see me pulling away?

Are you? I had no idea.

Just let me go now. Let me fade until I’m just a bad memory.

Love Letters

My gestures could be love letters
With the way that they so blatantly
Call out for you

Hunting Down Love

I tried hunting down love, but it always slipped away
Never getting caught in my snares.
I found I had to sit quietly and wait for it to come to me,
Trusting and willing to give me a chance

Kissing at a Stoplight

Imagine….
Kissing at a stoplight
And ******* off everyone behind us

Promises

We were nothing but broken promises
And jagged lies, searching for someone
To make us whole

My Heart and a Space for Yours

There’s a space in my chest next to my heart
It’s the perfect size for yours to fit safe and sound

Wearing Their Clothes

Wearing your clothes would be a special type of heaven

Tenderness

Tenderness has never been my forte
But I am a spring flower for you

Your Harbor

When it all becomes too much,
I can be your safe harbor

Show Your Love With Your Teeth

Show me the feral side of your love;
Show me the protective side, the carnal side
Show me love with your hands on my hips,
Your breath in my ears
Show me your love with your teeth

Wedding Cake

I’m waiting for the day that I can shove wedding cake in your mouth

Your Name in All of My Poems

No matter what I write, you influence me
It’s your voice reading the words in my head
It’s your breath in the wind
And I find your name in all of my poems

Dreaming in City Lights

I dream of you underneath the starry rural skies
And I can’t wait to dream with you ‘neath the bright city lights

Eye of the Storm

It’s in the eye of my storm
That I find myself with you

Worship

My darling, the angels themselves
Could sing your praises and it wouldn’t
Be considered blasphemous

Sharing an Umbrella

It starts with sharing an umbrella
And ends with sharing our lives

Blood on Cupid’s Arrow

There is blood on Cupid’s Arrow
From where I yanked it from my heart
I refuse to fall in love again
It makes for extremely painful art