Your eyes are silver and shades of
My destiny
You’re beautiful
“No one has said that to me.”
I want to taste your saliva
I want to lock in your love
Cause it’s when your rain falls
That I feel at home
They might be killing us from
Every side
But who said we can’t
Put up a fight
You seem petrified
I don’t want you to drown
In the murk of the water
Or on the Devil’s side
In the own safety of your sorrow
Bathing in your sisters blood
She’s not dead in your heart
And you gotta move on
Just watch the beads of sweat
That tumble down my dry and
Erase face
Focus on me
Blessed are you for keeping your
Cool and
Not dying
And bless your peach tree lungs
Lips that taste like cinnamon
You know I’ve never seen such
Beautiful eyes
Holes in someone’s face
Colors, tricolored
Like the fireworks
I haven’t seen since I
Had a mother
But you’re the figure I’ve always
Needed
The shoulder that feels like
Marshmallows
But is as strong as steel
So even when the barbed wire
Pierces my olive oil skin
I’ll run to you darling
And find sanctuary
In the holes at the top of your head
That glitter
When you smile
Even as everything goes to dust
You’re still afloat
You’re still your father’s girl
You’re still my safety in this world
You’re still a jaw dropping
Type of girl
No one’s soul
Could ever shine as bright as
Yours

Love is selfless.
Love is surrendering every part of your entire being to make someone’s day.
Love is giving everything away that you treasure just to fill someone’s soul with pride.
Love is never losing sight of what is truly important.
Love is after a day of heart wrenching failures and flaws, you can confide in them.
Love is like the dark side of the moon.
The one no one gets to see, but once it is full, it is a glowing light, lighting up the dark.
Love is painful.
It’s hard to commit to and can even take a lifetime to perfect.
Love is compassionate.
Like giving every single part of you to help the other person, without expecting anything in return.
Love is sacred.
Love is meant to be shared and shown to everyone, and is meant to be kept close to our hearts, always on our minds.
Love is crazy.
Like screaming at someone you know can’t hear you, but you do it anyway.
It can drive to the edge of a cliff, but grasping back onto you, forcing you to not jump.
Love is hopeful.
Like feeling butterflies in your stomach after you make eye contact.
The burning sensation you feel inside when your breath is ripped away, so quick you don’t even have time to think.
Love is flawed.
Like a dream can make you want something you can’t have.
Nothing is perfect, so of course, love isn’t either.
Love is difficult.
Like solving a math problem you don’t know the answer to, but guessing anyway.
Like having to push away the toxic ones from your life, and having to develop huge growing mountains that create valleys and streams.
While accepting that not everything can go to plan.
Love is risky.
Like a tiny string that could be ripped apart in less than a second, but it’s still hanging on.
Right before you start to free fall and you know what’s in store.
Love is exciting.
Like getting a new toy or entering gates filled with gold and silver, waiting for your entrance.
Love is everything.
Like God put us in the world, he provided others to help guide us on our paths.
Love is everything good, like sweet treats and amusement parks.
Like laughing at jokes, smiling at a T.V. screen, dancing to your favorite song, creating memories.
Love is everything that we wish to be.
You can only love if you choose to lose control.
Love is nothing more than what it is
And is nothing more than it isn’t.
Love is.

You’re ugly
I told you already.
You touched me with the hands of a coward.
I took away your despicable power
But now I’m the monster.  

She’s ugly.
Her eyes are brown like dirt
And a smile with teeth like cut onions.
Who called it a smile?
I call it wild.
But now I’m following the crowd.

He’s ugly.
He looks like a wannabe female.
With tears that stain on his feminine lips.
I call him out
But now I’m coming for his throat.
You were just poking fingers.

I’m ugly.
I draw myself with pencil marks.
Pencil my own beauty standards in.
I’m not desirable or prudent.
You torch my skin
No one breathes a word.
And I’m still the enemy.

Weird how standards work.
You’re pretty until she’s prettier.

i hate social interaction with a burning passion.
the lights, camera, action!
the crying inside but laughing.
the talking, asking.
wearing me down.
seconds from crashing.
the holding together when cracking.
the losing air, the gasping.
the bombs, the blasting.
the “i’m gonna die” contrasting.
the almost ending but lasting.
the social interaction.