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1.1k · Jul 2019
Let me be honest.
I don’t trust myself with you.
I’ve built myself a lonely cage.
I use my fear as my protector.
But sometimes, I open the cage.
Step-out to breathe in the fresh air of what could be,
then get terrified with the first breath I inhale,
and I go back in.
Because I’ve learned that the more people you let into your life,
the more vulnerable you get.
The easier it is for them to walk out.
And so I will suffer in silence.
Because I'd rather be lonely.
Than happy then broken.
1.1k · Jan 2019
Broken Bridge
I am a broken bridge.
I am lonely.
I am sad.
I was once a necessity.
Now I’m useless.
I’m a waste of space.
I’m a waste to the world.
A piece of something that is damaged.
Who makes everything look ugly.
Who is a disgrace to the scenery around.
I am a broken bridge.
When people see me they only see my flaws.
They don’t see the beauty in me.
My historic features.
The many stories I hold.
They only see the broken pieces of myself.
That is something I hate the most.
I am a broken bridge, but I hold the worlds most precious tales.
I am a broken bridge.
925 · Jan 2019
For You.
You are now my history.
You made me smile.
You made me laugh.
I’m sorry to see you go.
I’m sorry we didn't have our moment.
I’m sorry we didn’t get the chance to try.
I want you to know that my feelings were confusing.
I want you to know I wasn’t really sure what they were.
I want you to know that they were there.
I hoped you would've told me you felt somewhat the same.
I hoped you would have stayed for longer.
I hoped that you had gotten closer.
That our conversations never ended.
I am not heartbroken.
I’m disappointed it didn't last long.
That the butterflies in my stomach didn’t continue to flutter.
I am happy I got the chance to meet you.
To experience your annoying sarcasm.
To get to know the soft side of you.
To get to be your friend.
But I’m not happy I couldn't be more.
The feelings we had for each other were there.
They were so radiant you could feel it through the phone.
I could feel your smile through the way you talked.
I’m sorry I’m your history and not your future.
923 · Jan 2019
Our Earth.
Motherly earth you are beautiful.
With your green pastures.
And your crystal blue waters.
For the living creatures, you provide sanctuary.
A place to call home.
  From the dangers of the world, you provide a sheath of protection.
With your winds acting as a weapon.
You are beautiful.
With your divine skies, It creates bliss.
A feeling of gratitude.
For you give us everything.
We owe you nothing but our thanks.
For we will continue to care for you.
Even though it may not seem as so.
We owe.
For without you there would be no home.
No living creatures, that you behold.
No precious flowers.
Or the fresh air, that comes from your trees.
There would be nothing without your beautiful existence.
Thank you, mother earth.
805 · Jan 2019
Friends
Your heart opened up like a newly blossomed tulip.
You took me in like you knew me for forever.
You treated me like I was your one true friend.
But it wasn't enough.
I needed you like the tree’s need sunlight.
I needed you as if you were oxygen.
I needed you to be my forever home.
But yet it wasn’t enough.
I loved you like Bonnie loved Clyde.
Like Harley Quinn loved The Joker.
I loved you with all of me.
But of course, it wasn’t enough.
I wanted more.
I craved more.
You chose not to see the reality.
The reality of my love.
I was an open book to you.
All the feelings,wants, and needs were clearly visible.
Why not take the chance?
Why not take a chance on me?
Am I not good enough?
Am I not your type?
But then you say “I’m attracted to personality.”
Then why not choose me?
Instead, you chose the girl who broke your heart the most.
Who beat you down as if you weren't good enough.
Who was so rotten she spoiled the happiness that surrounded you.
Instead, you chose the girl who wasn’t me.
649 · Mar 24
Sad mom
Postpartum is a myth
Postpartum anxiety is a myth.
You can’t have those 2 years later.
Get over it.
You can’t have depression and postpartum depression at the same time.
You can’t have postpartum anxiety and anxiety at the same time.
You can’t have both?!
Get over it.
What if I don’t wake up?
Get over it.
Oof that hurt…
609 · Jan 2019
Painters View.
One strok-e of paint can show a million words.
It can make something out of nothing.
It can tell the story of many.
It can create intimacy between two people.
It can create a sense of connection.
It can release the feeling of comfort.
It can make one angry.
Or sad.
Or happy.
One strok-e of one color at one time.
Can change the meaning of one's life.
They blurred out the word, yes I'm aware of the typo. lol. The poem wasn't the same without it.
572 · Feb 2019
A Feminine Masterpiece.
A woman without a voice.
Her mouth sewn shut, by the ones who deem her nothing but a servant.
A woman with no strength to declare her worth.
She is to be given the right of speech by others who constantly steal it.
Her screams can be heard from miles away.
She is clawing out of the hole they dug for her.
Stay they say in order to keep her obedient.
She stays quiet.
One wrong look and she'll be killed.
She is a prisoner in her own home.
In her own body.
She wants to escape but she is trapped.
The only way out is through the lonely dark road.
She starts her journey.
Slowly she cuts the sutures.
One by one the light gets brighter.
Her voice begins to sing.
And finally, her captors are gone.
Never to be mentioned again.
She starts her new life with freedom on her shoulders.
With every step, she realizes that she is something remarkable.
Call her a feminine masterpiece.
291 · Feb 2019
2:46 AM
It is so crazy how much I can invest in someone.
How much love and affection I constantly give.
How much time and effort I hand out whenever they’re upset or in pain.
My question is who is there for me?
Who will give me the same amount of love and affection I constantly hand out for free?
I’m not Oprah.
Who is gonna give me the time and effort I deserve?
I’m not a ….
264 · Jan 2019
The Simple Statement.
Positivity can change the world for the better.
Negativity can destroy it.
239 · Aug 2020
Under A Tree.
One day a girl laid under a tree
She wished her life was rid of sorrow and suffering
She wished for her life to be simple and happy
One day a girl laid under a tree and felt as though she was nothing but a pebble sinking to the bottom of the sea
She wished she felt a different way she wished she was a different way
One day a girl laid under a tree and wished she was six feet down
She wished that the darkness took her away
She wished that the cold brought her warmth
One day a girl sat under a tree and wished she was different
She wished she was happy
She wished she was satisfied with herself
She wished the insecurities were gone
One day a girl laid under a tree
With the brisk winds to keep her calm
The flowing leaves dancing above her
The clouds moving gracefully
She wished she was one with the earth
She wished she was an ant
Or possibly a bird
Then she could be simple
Simple and happy
One day a girl laid under a tree.
199 · Apr 2019
You.
You were the one who knew me the most.
Who knew my flaws and my best attributes.
You knew when I was mad and you knew when I was happy.
But what you didn’t know was how I felt towards you.
My feelings were as strong as an earthquake.
As hot as fire.
And you...
Well, you were cold as ice.
You knew every part of me and used that to your advantage.
You stripped me down until there was nothing left.
You used your ice pick of a heart to pick away my soul.
You left me with one thing.
My hope.
With that, I started back up.
I began to heal myself little by little.
I used my hope to my advantage.
I hoped you’d leave.
And you did once you were finished with me.
I hoped I would soon be happy.
And I was by finding someone who loved me for me.
I hoped a person like you would never come back.
And well that is something I will always hope.
83 · Jan 2019
Childhood
When I was younger I believed that I was happy.
I believed that when someone touched you in that way it was love.
I never had a family.
Yes I had a mother and yes I had a father but no it wasn’t a family.
There were only glass shatters and unavoidable screams that put me to sleep.
There was no lullabies or calm music.
There weren’t bedtime stories.
There were only arguments that created my childhood.
There was the unwanted touch of a person who was supposed to be there for me.
There were the relationships that were never to be developed.
There was trust screaming and threatening a 6-year-old girl.
When people ask what my childhood was like, I reply with one word.
Okay.
To me it was okay, it was normal for me at the time.
Now that I know it was wrong there was no way to make it right.
The untrust that I had for the world only increased.
I had no friends, I was bullied, I was a quiet girl.
And yet the world asks me if I’m okay.
Am I?
I think I am.
But am I?
Telling the truth

— The End —