You ask if I love you?
I simply reply I don’t know.
How could one really know,
I’d love truly lies where lust hides.

Do I love you,
When you hold me tight,
When our lips touch,
Or when our bodies connect.

Do I love you,
When I sneak glances,
When I listen intently,
Or when I feel that I can’t get enough.

But when we are together,
My heart flutters,
My hands shake,
I feel tingly.
I feel special.

But you ask my if I love you,
I still can’t respond.
Is it me being with you?
Or being apart of you?

When the heat rushes,
When my legs shake,
**** I know I’ll be sore in the morning,
But that isn’t love.

Love shouldn’t be afraid.
Love shouldn’t be hidden.
It’s shouldn’t be shameful,
Or questioned.

But I guess it doesn’t matter either way.

Because you never asked me if I loved you in the first place.

If I could write to the past
Of all that has happened
Of all of what I went through
Of how everything happened so fast

So this to you
To the younger me
To the innocence
That no longer consumes me

Dear younger me
Of all the things I want to tell you
Words can not explain enough
Of what actually happened

Dear younger me
Would I tell how you will go through so much
So much pain
So much heartache
But you will come out so much stronger

Dear younger me
Would I think to tell you the truth
Of all those you will lose
Those who you thought would be there
But now are left confused
 

Dear younger me
Would I tell you of the places you will travel
Some creating your best memories
Or how others will still leave you up at night

Dear younger me
Oh how I want to protect you
To keep you shielded
From the dark

Dear younger me
Oh how I want to warn you
Of the dangers that lurk
Even in the most trusting smile

Dear younger me
With how much I would give
To be back in your shoes
Even just for a moment

But if even given a moment
I would change nothing

Dear younger me
You will go through hell and back
You will cry some nights until you fall asleep
You will witness things you wish you had never witness
You will try to die at your lowest moments at the age of 13

But do not be frighten

Dear younger me
While you are going through so much
While you feel left in the dark
That you have hit rock bottom
You will rise
Stronger than you have before

Dear younger me
While our life is not over yet
You will meet amazing people
Those who love you
When others wouldn’t

Dear younger me
You will see amazing things
Color brighter than you have before
You will feel peace at times

Dear younger me
Things are never perfect
But you will make it
You are better than you once imagined

Dear younger me
For all the things you wished you were told
For all the things you wished you had done
Even now
I wouldn’t change them for a younger me

Why do I write? Well technically I’m not actually writing, I’m typing. Anyhow I write for many different reasons. I write to share ideas, to change perspective, but I mainly write for myself. I write for myself because writing(typing) helps me understand myself. I know it sounds crazy sometimes but when I am for once able to put meaning into my words I am able to understand parts of myself better. Some people don’t understand. How could someone possibly not understand themselves? It’s reasonable to understand that. I always know what I am feeling most of the time. However trying to take my feelings and put them into words tends to be a struggle for me. Like I can’t find the right words in the proper order to try and explain myself. Sometimes things don’t need explaining. That’s is why I write poetry. In poetry things don’t need to make since, unlike all the college essays that I have to write that scream about grammar and punctuation. Poetry is just a feeling by itself. Letting the rhythm of the words just flow. It doesn’t always make sense but that isn’t the point. The point is does it have meaning? When someone reads poetry do the feel something deep within or are they just zoning out and reading just to read. Reading poetry is like playing a melody in your head. You can hear all the different notes, when they stop, and when they go. You can create a symphony of words with the letters being your orchestra. Some may criticize, they always will, and try to make it seem that your work is less important that it is. But it isn’t. What makes your work important is the feeling that you get from it when you finish. That feeling of relief when you finally let everything bottled up inside you go, or the tears that spill because the damage that was made and the only way to heal is letting out all of these words in your head go. When writing there are no limits, no criteria. It’s just you and your brain piecing together parts of yourself you hadn’t realized that was there before.

And that is why I write.

Sometimes when people see her,
They see the good little girl,
That sits down,
That’s quite,
And does what she is told.

The girl that doesn’t want trouble,
That’ll snitch at the sound of danger.
The girl that does all of her work on time,
That fears anything below an A.

Sometimes when people see her,
They see the loud girl,
That doesn’t know when to keep her mouth shut,
Whether she’s talking to her friends,
Or when she’s firing off a sarcastic remark.

The girl that’ll throw words,
If you dare dis her family.
The girl that’ll catch hands,
If you dare push her.

They do not like this loud girl,
She should stay quite,
Know her place,
Fall in line.

But they do not like the good girl either,
She should open up,
Let loose for once,
Stand on her own two feet.

People seem to always decide,
What this girl should be.
Not the girl herself,
To show what she believes.

But it is like this with every girl.
They are all either:
Too tall,
Too short,
Too skinny,
Too fat.

These girls face constant battle,
On what they should,
And should not do.
But no one ever asks what the girls might think.

Instead the girls will live,
With these rules forced to swallow.

But soon the girls will rise,
And everyone will soon follow.

You made me choose,
A choice that wasn’t fair,
One that is hard to bare,
But you didn’t care.

We were best friends,
Funny how things end.
How being thick as thieves,
Until one got caught.

You made me choose,
Made me question my faith,
In our friendship,
In my spiritual relationship.

For once I had cried,
confused on what to do,
Wanting to listen to them,
Only to tell of corruption.

When I gave you my answer,
You may have been stunned,
You may have been confused,
But I didn’t stay around.

When my faith is tested,
In what I believe is true,
I surround myself in love,
From one who is untested.

But I will not be bitter,
And I will wish you farewell.
But I know that those who love me,
Would not have me dwell.

Maybe I have been corrupted,
But only by one who loves me so.
Because I know when time ends,
He’ll be the one calling me home.

And I will choose him over you anyday.

You are the person,
That one would write poems about.
You are the person,
That would fill thoughts late at night.

The one who’s eyes light up,
Like a galaxy in the sky.
The one who’s laughter,
Would just make you want to fly.

You’re are the person,
Who’s smile so beautiful,
It’s enchanting.
You are the person,
That could warm the heart,
Of the coldest winter breeze.

But you don’t see this person.
You keep them locked in a cage,
Believing they’ve never existed.
But for me it’s not true.

You are my person,
That I would scream to the rooftops for.
You are my person,
That I would break any wall for.

You don’t understand,
How beautiful you are.
But one day you’ll see,
How I’ve always seen.

You are my person,
Who makes my world complete.

You told me today,
That you wanted to die.
I could tell in your voice,
That it wasn’t a lie.

I never noticed till now,
Of how you fidgeted more.
I never noticed till now,
Of the sweaters you now wore.

But I did noticed now,
How your skin seemed pailer,
How your eyes darker.
Have you been eating?
Have you even been sleeping?

But when you told me,
I finally saw.
The darkness that surrounds you.
When did you start to fall?

Why didn’t I noticed,
That your smile missed your eyes.
Why didn’t I noticed,
That your voice told such lies.

If I had noticed sooner,
Would this had ever happened.
If I had noticed sooner,
Would you had never saddened.

I screamed for you,
Wanting it to not be true,
I cried for you,
Though I didn’t have a clue.

I waited for you,
For you to react,
But the mirror stayed still,
My image intact.