i pricked my tongue on the lies i tell,
ignore the blood that trickles from my lips,
if i say pretty words will you believe me?

the thorns twist and coil around my tonsils,
blood seeps now painting my lips red,
are my words pretty enough to believe?

roots have made there way down my throat,
everything is coated in my blood,
my words used to be pretty.

do remember how this started,
a single rose that i swallowed for you,
i believed your pretty words.

i thought it could last longer,
worn and tattered your purpose is flawed,
what to do with something of no use,
why do i keep your threads,
you no longer smell of fresh linen,
i'll cast you aside to a pointless existence,
no one will ever pay you any mind.

A girl carved from pain and sculpted by trust,
She carries men on her shoulders,
Strong through christ and sure in her faith,
But a girl can't stay a girl forever so she became a queen, no,
A warrior,
Weapons in her hand but open heart she greets new friends,
Come forth and share a laugh,
Do not betray her trust not because you fear but because she should be cherished,
But at the end of the day a warrior must rest,
Take off your armor and let yourself take a break to feel everything you've stored away,
Just as you are a warrior you are also human,
That means you may fall or be tempted but don't lose focus,
Even if your body can't be strong your mind will be your engine,
So take your rest now warrior for in the morning you go back to work,
Place your pineapple armor back on and secure your pink helmet,
Life may not be safe but it is an adventure for you to enjoy,
Please remember not all who walk with you will stay,
But when they leave it opens a space for something better,
Continue your journey as you gain another year in memories you become wiser,
You have grown from the person you once were so look forward to potential,
Don't let anyone try to hold you down because a pink pineapple is rare and deserves to be celebrated.

When I lay in bed at night I can hear you visit all my friends but leave me barren,
Some days you visit me and steal away my time,
How cruel is your torture that you find pleasure in my pain?
   Please MR. SANDMAN I beg of you to take me to your land,
The coveted home of dreams where everyone wishes to stay,
Yet you have banished me to nightmares if I get any sleep at all.
   When did you decide to play such tricks on me?
Do you entertain yourself with my tear-stained face,
the only thing enlightened by the moon at this hour.
   Every morning the sun offers me a mask to cover the remains of your torture and every day I accept.
But this day I say no to the mask and let the world look upon the work of their precious SANDMAN.
   When I look around I see others take off their mask and show the scars each person bears.
MR. SANDMAN we don't need your dreams anymore,
Because when I look at all these strong people sharing their scars I wish to never wake.

This is for both a bully and friend. They were like a tattoo I never wanted. Ink swirled under my skin screaming at me in victory. I woke up one day discovering this design dwelled in me making itself at home. How did this happen? How come no other kids had ink under their skin? That’s when they became a bully. When I got older the ink got meaner. Everything I did wrong they used against me like an arsenal of regret.  Elementary school became a battlefield and I always wore my armor. Children choose their sides not understanding the consequences each battle held.
Every morning they were there with more loyalty than a service dog. Every mirror was marked by them. Every student knew their name. And every day we would fight. Most days the fights were small and no one but us would get injured but some days there were casualties far greater than expected. This was not just a year or two of them being a bully but almost a decade of them being one. A routine developed where they would show up in the morning remind me they were never leaving and then wait for me after school. If I missed the bus they were sure to be there with me through that but not for support but as an opportunity to berate me.
They had a commitment to me that most marriages would be jealous of. No matter what they stayed by my side. And then I moved away traveling across many states confident I left them behind in the move. When school started I was nervous because I was new, and no one knew me. That lasted all of six seconds before I saw them again in the hallway. How the hell did they manage to cross six state lines to follow me and could I just disappear. The answer was no so we met again but this time it was as if they couldn’t remember me so this time around we were acquaintances.
As an acquaintance they were like a tattoo that you got done when you were sixteen, not quite what you wanted but it was better. This time the ink didn’t scream at me but talked. Their loyalty and commitment were both still their but instead of battles they became friends with others. It was weird seeing what they had become after so many years of torment, but it was nice to finally have some quiet. This didn’t mean I was completely free of all bullies however, I met new ones in high school that were much worse and far more cruel. After one particularly harsh day my once bully now acquaintance came over to help me stand again. I learned to lean on them and began to trust in them a little more after that day.
When high school was coming to close I still refused to consider them a friend never forgetting how much pain they caused me in my youth. And so once more we parted as acquaintances to continue onto the next chapter of our lives. This time around I didn’t cross six state lines but stayed in state. This was when I started college. I was shocked when I found out that they were to be my roommate I mean what are the odds of that? I still felt the ink under my skin swirl in a sort of salute to them. They remembered me this time around, but it wasn’t a bad thing. This time I allowed myself to become friends with them and we grew close. The tattoo was no longer a mistake but a well thought out decision that held meaning and color. They were now a friend that I could trust, and the ink didn’t just talk to me, but it sang. I want you to understand who they are so keep an open mind as I introduce to you……. my moles.

the entire world lays in bed,
everybody goes to turn off their mind,
my power switch is broken,
no matter how hard I try my mind stays alert,
can you teach yourself to not think,
can you learn how to not pick apart every mistake,
my pillowcase becomes an aquarium filled with tears,
sheets strangle my legs until they lay limp,
when im left alone with my mind it loses hold,
how many nights can you spend numb but feeling everything,
everything is a contradiction and no one knows the pain,
isolation is safe haven hiding in a purgatory,
how do you ever get out?

when a flower never gets the chance to bloom,

heroes who can save everyone but the person they love,

artists who die thinking the world hates their art only to then be seen,

knowing when you turn on the news it will be only bad,

seeing the faces of children plaster walls surrounded by gruesome scenes,

but the greatest tragedy,

the harshest woe,

is the fact you won't get to see another sunrise.