What are the symptoms of love?
Was it the lifted feeling in my heart when he said my name?
Was it the red flushed in my cheeks when he called me pretty?
Was it the butterflies in my stomach when he talked to me?
Was it the way he would smile and look off to the side,
not his picture smile, it was natural, real
Was it the way he could make me laugh, like nobody else?
Was it the bouquet of roses he bought for my birthday,
he never told me how much he paid for them…
Was it the inside jokes nobody else understood?
Was it the late texts on his computer when he didn’t have his phone?
Was it the long calls, hours, that never felt long enough?
Was it the easy days, when I painted his nails at lunch
or when I helped him with a project so he didn’t fail
Was it the soccer games I went to to watch him play?
What are the symptoms of love?
Was it the dance, or was it prom he never asked me to?
Was it the day he searched everywhere to make sure I was okay?
when he asked me on a date to make it up to me
Was it the way he couldn’t stand to see me cry?
Was it the way he couldn’t stand to see me angry?
“Are you mad at me?” It was always “are you mad at me?”
I was never mad. Disappointed, hurt, anxious, scared. But never mad.
Tell me, what are the symptoms of love?
Was it the lies he told to keep me happy?
Was it me being naive, him being immature?
Was it me asking too many questions, him never knowing the answers?
Was it the song I wrote for him that he never got to hear?
Was it the song he wrote for me, that he denied, deleted
as if it never existed, as if he never said those words
But I never forgot, I still remember, I wish he did too
Did I ever even matter?
How did he move on so quickly?
Even now, I still have questions.
Even now, he still doesn’t have the answers.
So I’ve learned to stop asking.
But really, what are the symptoms of love?
Was it the fragility at the beginning?
Was it the tension at the end?
Was it him doing everything not to hurt me,
but hurting me anyways?
Was it the fear of losing the only one we ever wanted to stay,
and losing each other anyways?

Why can't you love me no matter what.
Why do I have to live my life tiptoeing over everything I do so I don't disappoint you.
Well guess what, you're already disappointed in me. Disappointed that I'm not who you want me to be, that I don't believe what you want me to believe. Disappointed that I can never seem to do anything right, because it will never live up to what will make you happy.
Perhaps you don't even realize the pain and pressure I feel, but I feel it. And it's real.
Those words, "I'm not mad. Just disappointed."
Those words hurt worse than you think...

Do not fret
For the hole in your chest
Cannot stay hollow for much longer
In due time
A heart will fill the void
And you will feel again

I hear the beating of my heart
Like the beating of a drum
And the pounding in my head
Like the pounding of my steps
Mundane rhythms in my body
Reminding me I’m alive, still breathing
I hear the ringing in my ears
Like a song going static on the radio
I hear the beating of a heart
Like the beating of a drum
It’s the first sound that greets me in the morning
It’s the last sound that lulls me to sleep at night
The beating of my heart like the beating of a drum
Reminding me I’m alive, still breathing
One day I wish to forget
One day I wish my body could go still
One day I wish my mind could go quiet
But for now I pound my head so it synchs up with my footsteps
And I beat my drum, along to the beating of my heart
Body’s grown numb to the rhythm
Until the moment my hands go cold
And the drumming slows down
And I never again have to hear that awful sound of the beating of my heart
Like the beating of a drum

Autumn light spills over the land, the golden sunshine barely peeking over the snow-topped mountains.
A soft breeze sweeps under the orange leaves, urging them into flight as they then drift swiftly into the distance.
A warm hue shines on the blades of grass, reflecting a clear image onto the still, glass pond.
Trees sway hesitantly, casting crooked shadows on the weaving path.
As the last traces of the day dissipate, the planet slipping into a restless slumber, a cool silver mist filters out any last color.
A blurry world stares back at me, chilling wind grabbing hold of my ankles like ice-cold fingers against my bones.
Threatening to pull me down, force clean air into my lungs, pressing on my chest until I have no choice but to inhale, breathing in the crisp fog with sputtering coughs.
Shivers prickle my skin, dancing up my spine and down my arms.
My vision shakes as tears well up in my eyes.
I let my gaze fall one last time on everything around me, taking in the beauty of nature before the light will vanish completely.
A dark world is gut-wrenching when all the lovely things that make Earth precious are clouded by shades of black.
Why open your eyes at night when it will be just the same as what you see when you close them.

The scene fades out of view as I’m forced out of my fond memories at the sound of crying.
The red leaves on the trees, covering the grass, and even swirling in the air shift suddenly into blinding flames, swallowing any lush vision from before.
The evening mist transforms into smoke, sirens and screams wailing in my ears, ricocheting in my mind.
Any calm feeling that had come from my daze snaps out of existence, so quickly it is almost as if it was never even there, as I turn to see the real world burning and falling apart around me.

Emotions are rather complicated, I suppose
What is this irksome tickle in my heart?
It is not sadness, nor is it anger, or even grief
Not quite guilt or confliction
Perhaps a sort of blend of the two
It feels rather uncomfortable, like an itching inside
That is barely out of reach
Like a blur in the corner of my vision
But no matter how much I turn my head, I still can't see it clearly
This feeling seems to twist my stomach
And press on my heart
And pound in my mind
A constant pressure that can't be placed
I wonder if this puzzling emotion
Is something similar to emptiness
A hollowness that is unfamiliar
Sinking in a sea of scattered thoughts
Far too deep to retrieve now
And now
All I am left with
Is a perplexing feeling swirling everywhere inside me
A sort of apathy
That can't be named

I have yet to meet somebody I can spend right now with
If no one even wants me for a moment
How am I supposed to meet someone I can love for the rest of my life?
And more importantly
How am I going to find someone who wants to spend eternity loving me?

is it fair
for me to reach
for something i'll never be able touch

you.
i'm talking about you

Fallen petals are the bruises
from your lips and your fingers
that i used to trace my hands over
with a soft touch and a smile

Fallen petals are your words
that i can never forget
promises that meant everything then
but nothing now

Fallen petals are the lies
I couldn't see until the end
when it was far too late
to tell you no

Fallen petals are the aches
in my chest, my heart, my mind
the tears that won't stop falling
the embarrassment, the shame

Fallen petals are the innocence
you stole from me that night
a treasure i trusted you with
that i can never regain

Fallen petals are the memories
tainted by your power
disrupted by your voice
tangled with your cruelty

Fallen petals are the feelings
for that's all you've left me with
sick, crippling feelings
you've ruined me

Fallen petals are who I used to be
the girl i miss
before i was used
and before i was tossed aside like garbage

like an acorn,
drifting down to a bed of emerald grass,
amidst a sea of crisp autumn leaves,
swirling like the color of flames,
crimson vermilion sunshine
scraping the dirt below.
but instead a breeze cuts off my course
and I come crashing down
onto concrete cold as ice,
only to crack
and eventually shatter.

We both fell in love
But I fell too far
Cuz I climbed too high
And you were too low

On my good days I pride myself in being good
A good writer
A good singer
A good dancer
A good pianist
A good painter
A good baker

On my good days I like to think I'm a good person
A good citizen
A good neighbor
A good student
A good classmate
A good teacher
A good daughter
A good sister
A good friend
On my good days I'm good enough, aren't I?

But on my bad days, I strip myself away from good things
Without my hobbies
Without my grades
Without my family
Without my friends
What is there left to be good at?
Without validation
Without reassurance
Without comfort
What am I good for?
I'm left alone with myself

On my good days I'm a good person
I'm thoughtful
I'm kind
I'm intelligent
I'm helpful
But I'll never be happy with that
Until I'm good for something bigger
Until I'm good enough to live with myself

What happened to her
Once she was lively and bright
Now she seems broken

Behind every set
Of beautiful, glossy eyes
There's a whole story

Succumbing to pain
Growing numb to the ice chains
Forgetting the cage

I hate myself
I hate myself for everything I am
And I hate myself for everything I’m not

Sometimes I don’t care if you’re listening
But I at least want to be heard

I know you hate to see me cry
But I do anyways
I can't seem to stop the tears from rolling out
Will you hold me?

Is the world falling apart
Or are we simply losing hope