You think I'm pretty? You don't think I should change?
Not by a single gram I won't, I promise Anna.

It's my friend Anna, she's always here for me.
Anna, I don't want to think, tell me what to do,
Yes, thank you Anna, I'll calculate those for you.

Did you say I look perfect Anna?
I can maintain perfect by being perfect.
I can be precise Anna, I promise, don't leave.

Anna, that's a lot of calculating.
Sorry Anna, you're right, perfection takes hard work.
I'm unafraid of toil.

Anna, I'm worried Anna, I can't stop feeling.
Think? I can over think to stop the feeling.
I'll gladly overthink than to over feel.
You're right Anna, I can numb it.

Anna, I'm craving something.
You're right Anna, I will never have that.

Anna, I never told you what I craved.
I craved love Anna, I craved safety.
I'm hungry for a meaningful life Anna.
Please feed those to me.

Why don't you give me what you promised Anna?
You became a liar Anna, but love is blind and I need you.

Speak for me Anna, lie for me Anna.
Anna others want to feed me, Anna, I don't know what they're feeding me Anna, stop them, it's unsafe where it's uncertain.

Yes, what Anna said, I already ate.
When?
Anna, they're catching on Anna, do something.

Anna, I'm hungry, Anna.
I've been keeping you alive to keep myself dead.

Anna please,
I starved myself, to feed Anna.

What is Perfect?

Hitting the 1800.
Remaining between the 400-600.
Using the 1/2 and the 1/4.
Because I will never be 1/1, fully complete.

What will define me? What can define my worthy?
In guarantee, undoubtedly.
Like an object, priced and tagged with money.
Value through digits, simple, observable.

How can someone know if art is worthy of display?
All beauty needs an audience.
Beauty in solitude, is wasted potential.
All beauty, needs, an audience.
How else can you differentiate average, from a masterpiece?

I want to be a masterpiece.
Perfect for every eye.

My eyes see perfect too.
In 1/4, in a 1/2, in a 1800.
In the symmetry of the X, and the curve of the S.
I am eXtra Small.
I am a 53.

Numbers are simple, precise and perfect.
They aren't beautiful, they simply are.
Beauty is abstract, it's grey.
I don't like grey, it's uncertain, unsure.

Grey has room for error.
Grey can't be controlled.

I don't have room for error.
I can only control.

I want to be undeniable.

Perfection, over all else.

Forest green, with the hazel sun, I analyse your eyes

"What are you thinking?"

Just how exactly have you changed my norm?

Is it how you make me feel at home, belonging?

Is it how you make me feel in love, yearning?

Is it how you make feel at ease, calming?

The existence of you is perplexing

How can you be so caring?
How can you be so tender?
How can you be so forgiving?
How can you be so thoughtful?

How can you know me so well?

I've built walls, you re-constructed them.
I've been silent, you've read my mind.

Sleeping, is something I’ve preferred alone,
you overcame the comfort of my solitude

You and I are a perfect balance
the pragmatic and the intuitive
the diligent and the ardent

The weight of what I feel for you has it's gravity,
There are times when I say
I love you
I tear up

I'm afraid to think anything bad of you,
Because you bring out everything good in me.

You don't change me, you evolve me
I was so worried I'd make a mistake,
I was blinded to the greatest choice I made.

You,
Thank you,
For You.

My love, My home, My Best Friend

I love you

The dusty line between my reality and my dreams.

Deep dark blue abyss

Tranquil and terrifying.

Soulful wish of draining my feelings.

Muddy waters filled with confusion, holding hands with shame.


Floating in the grey zone where,
The idea of death makes me long for life,
and the thought of life makes me find comfort in death.


I desire to become a wave.
Part of a whole in the ocean,
curling to the shore and disappearing.

I scare myself with a thought,
the sleep from which I know I can't wake up from,
will be my best one yet.

I fantasise of the day where I can close my eyes,
and let them remain so.
The comfort of knowing I don't have to experience life as, I.

The bright yellow of the sun no longer makes me joyful,

Selfish, I'm selfish.

The sun should not be showing it self to someone like me.


The shine should not be upon my room.
Someone out there is better suited for the sun.
To live every moment, without imagining another one, to damage it.

I wish to exist, only not as me.

I draw my curtains, reject it's warmth.
I don't deserve it.

I looked outside, the sun is shining where it hasn't for days.
I looked inside, it's been caliginous for months.

The smoke over my tea seems foreign,
My gazes are empty,
My flesh feels hardened.

My thoughts don't haunt me anymore,
we live together, a familiar routine.

It's an odd place to be in,
when you're acquiescent for Departure,
but wary of the destination.

Death will grace us all in a given day,
how to act as a catalyst,
I wondered,
simply, keep your door inviting.

As I sat with a blizzard inside,
a deep sunken calm emerged within.

I asked, "who is it?"
"your solace", it answered.

I asked again, confused, "who is it?"
"your tranquil", it answered.

I asked once again, unsure, "who is it?"
"your Departure", it answered. I smiled.

"What kept you so long?", I asked,
"you have. May I stay?", it asked me.

"You've never left. A perpetual guest is always welcome." I answered.

The sound of violins overcame me,
an odd, fitting melody.

Again?
She's there again.

I color my insides green with jealousy.
My outside is fairytale pink.

Watch my recklessness.
See my body, naked.
Laugh at my jokes.
Peek at my past.

But god forbid,
you look into my eyes.

For my recklessness is always calculated,
For my body is not my vulnerability,
For my jokes are merely masks,
For my past is my present,

please, look into my eyes.

My father said, I was meant to have a sister.

Perhaps, the darkness she was meant to have I absorbed.

Surrounded by affection,
infatuated with popularity,
never have been disliked by anyone.

That's me.

constantly jealous,
caved in with paranoia,
never fully understood myself.

That is ,also, me.

Is there any purity left in a heart that craves vengeance?

Poetry is the unofficial language of the human heart,

the human heart is a creation of the universe,

Poetry is the ultimate reflection of what the universe created.

You should've left me where you found me.

"Why do you love mountains?"
"They're steady and predictable."

I'm yours, now.

"Why do you love the ocean?"
"It's unsteady and unpredictable."

You built a mountain in my heart.

I arose oceans in your spirit.

A stubborn heart,
Fearless soul
A curious mind.

I once dared to be brave,
I did not dive off of a cliff.
I did not sail into the wild sea,
I did let myself feel.

I let my emotions take full control of me,
No denial
No repression
Full control.

It gave me freedom to explore seas of my own,
let me sail into experiences with no expectations.
It gave me limitless bravery, as I let myself feel to the fullest.

Letting go of all restrain meant I began each venture with a blank canvas.
Letting my feelings paint as I threw myself into what was presented to me,
It would’ve seemed each canvas was painted by a different artist.

A whole world of my own and all in my head.  
I go there sometimes.
I go to explore, I go there when I’m scared of what I can’t understand.

I withdraw into that world when the physical one confuses me.
I go there when I try to understand the world in the head of who I love.
I probably infer too much, think for others too much
I can’t help it.
I can’t help but liberate the curiosity of anticipating the ending.
I can't help but feel the the universe is trying to understand itself.

I’m loud, quiet
I’m bold, subtle
I’m loving, selfish
I’m confident, vulnerable
I’m detached, attached  
I’m honest, insincere
I’m outgoing, shy.

That’s just the beginning. so I ask you to pray for the brave.
Pray because we throw of ourselves into anything we believe we can grasp,
Pray because we won’t ever give up on what we love,
Pray because we will feel the whole emotional spectrum ,
Pray because we won’t do it ourselves.