Be the amber stone I wear around my neck
So your presence weighs upon me
Be the noose that's not too loose
Like a hairband too tight to pull through
Be the virus in my body
That no medication can treat
Be the white noise in my head
So I can't properly think
Be the darkness of my shadow
So I feel you loom as the hours pass
Be that sensation before I sneeze
So I feel you linger when my nose hits the breeze
Be the God to my religion
So I can feel you all around me
Be the devil in the details
To feel your curses smite me
Do not, however, be my downfall
Even though you already are
By being the haunting of my waking thoughts
You've left me considering your skin with my scars

“Your so lucky”

The words come at me like daggers
Me?
Lucky?

If only you knew.

Spend a day walking in my shoes
Drowning in my thoughts
Pushing down the lump in my throat.

Spend a day with the sinking feeling in my stomach
Watching your back
Fending off strangers who think they have a right to your body.

Spend a day waking up with tears in your eyes
Wanting to run away at the first sign of danger
Laying in bed with tears streaming down your cheeks.

Spend a day choking back sobs because no one can hear you crying
Putting on a fake smile when someone asks if you’re okay
Putting up with people telling you how lucky you are.

Spend a day in my shoes
Then tell me how
I’m so lucky.

Sometimes I get into this lyfe style. A lyfe style of remorse for feeling bad for myself. A lyfe style of projecting my loneliness on others and trying to title a book titled "The times I've broken my heart". And that's just the start of the story.

 It seems I was walking home one day and the oncoming traffic of the overhead displayed a sign that read "You've caught feelings today" my love was expressed through the form of tears. Or "white lies" I guess you could say because my tears are invisible to others and they're lies disguised till this day like the dust bunnies you sweep under a rug. And I know I messed up by talking to you so much. Because that was my first mistake. Getting attached is the quickest way to getting heartbreak. But to me its something more.

 You see I'm a mold of clay passed around for the whole elementary class to see. Some people jam their fingers in me and others mold me completely differently until no one can even realize I'm playdough so instead I'm just tossed away.

Or an even better one. We'll start with the cliche "I'm a towel put out to dry" but my owner never returned so instead my skin just bleached in the winter and I withered away into a line cloth that eventually floated a stray... Or maybe I was swallowed up by the lies of others who told me I was something more than an eroded piece of ripped line cloth clay.

Whatever the matter I'm an endangered endangerment to myself. I'm not suicidal but my thoughts tell me otherwise. Have you ever looked in a mirror and seen you're two bad sides holding each others hands? Singing lullaby's about how you're lyfes demands are mediocre and no were near ideal. You're a joke to the joker and even worse you're a joke to the ones around you who only see your smile.

 Because they don't even know who you truly are. Maybe if you put away the childish dreams of falling in love and picked up an adult magazine to hide forever any sort of horseplay that comes along with being alone, and being so weak to love.

And maybe that's just it. I'm to weak for love but, I'm to weak to be loved. So maybe my fake strength can offer me an attribute to this loneliness. Or maybe I'll just make a new title and call it "Moving on and moving away"

Its just I easily succumb to the idea of love. And it seems everyone around me doesn't feel the same. So I guess I'll just remain here as dried up shriveled line cloth clay.

You were the smile I wore to school.
And the grin I wear to sleep.
Now you're the tears that clot my eyes.

I got home and messanged my friends

But I guess I didn't realize I wanted to share my life with you not with them.

And it made me hold my breathe.

Realizing you were all I had.

So I guess I have nothing left.

I guess my mirage of happiness was twisted by the turn of a switch. Or it could've been my urge to make someone besides myself the happiest, because to be direly honest, I was tired of being alone. But what I didn't realize, is when you shake hands with the devil you leave behind your soul. Or your love for anyone, because everytime I looked at her I still felt empty. And by this time nothing changed, I wasn't apart of love. I was apart of a game. A game played where the demon has your soul, to mend into a benevolent role, of frenzies feeding from your energy. And I'm sorry I never meant anything. Its just I didn't want to try when trying would've got me hurt. And I guess patience teaches you something. You never truly know someone until you see both sides of them tearing apart your dirt-y, heart free, body. Your eyes can never reach my soul. Because our blissful moments of happiness could never mean anything to your role,
In my lyfe.

This voyage.
This wonderous emporium of unimaginable feelings has come to a trifling hault.
The natural hot springs dried up.
And like ever bristle on a tooth brush my feelings have been plucked.
Just my luck.
And maybe it was never the tell tale of an oceans sigh breathing down my heart
Signaling an alarm of emotion ships to sway down a never ending voyage of teenage hormones.
But maybe it was my belief of kept unharmed untouchable innocence treated as untreatable waters for a no mans land to reserve the perseverance perceived child like humor and gestures adults lack.
I'm left sorrowful as the sun without any civilian's to share its rays.
But more like chimney smoke releasing toxic fumes into my mind not realizing the damage they've done to the ozone layer of my heart.
When alas the ships have returned to a now land known not.
And feelings of once no mans land, yet to forever be forgot.
I'll have missed that long journey's trip that tore apart my heart.
And made me an adult.



-I miss falling in love sometimes.

Like tiny cracks in the cement that spill out on the sidewalk  her smile.
Like chinks in these metal plates reminding me of here intentionally placed flaws.
She is a melody of unforgettable lullabies that sing me to sleep.
Or usher me to greatness.
And I'll never forget her small nods to nothingness that are behavioral, habitual, silently eloquent beauty.
Her hand gestures that splatter on paper like ink.
Violently she covers her face when she's shy like the waves covering the ocean floor.
And her mysteries speak louder than the voices in my head.
That's why when she speaks all I can ever think about is her attention.
Swooning
Lashing out like a child who can't get a second glance on his elementary crush as he moves cities.
I just wish I could move into her heart.
Because her simple nods of beauty.
Her simple eyelashes that quiver when surfaced against her cheeks.
I'm not awestruck.
I'm awe stuck.
Its not her beauty on her skin.
But the beauty that lies within.
And she wears these emotions like a cursive tattoo on her skin.
I'm in love with the simple gestures and habits she may think are natural for everyone else.
Because her small beauties.
Are what makes her most beautiful to me.  

Make my heart warm again.