daisy’s spread out in a vast field
twirling as the wind whips their blossoms
salty lips and caramel hips
dips and tricks
picking up the flowers that fill the ground with
color
laughs in Flagstaff
sidesteps and triceps
gracefully holding sweaty hands
in fields that only flowers inhabit
liberated limbs in little lands
with boundless promises
sway with arms on shoulders
hands on slim waists
spreading fake wings while lying in the yellow
field
smelling the scents, but with no allergies
spinning until floating
two in one without knowing
falling into enchanting spells
flower field remaining sweet
while kissing is faintly heard in the brisk
night air

oh, what a magnificent thing is to be in love

i missed his party so i didn’t get to see you
   and i write as if you hear my anguish
   as if you care enough to listen
**** it, i would give you my poems to read
    i miss you
    because without you, i blame it on myself
perhaps we were made to break
   to crack on hardwood floors and windows
   to grow apart as the famine destroys
i missed his party because i was sick
   so we didn’t get to mend our relationship
   and our beaten hearts are ruined

      i missed his party so now i miss you

park benches and arm stretches
hugs that feel like roses blooming
like footsies fooling
diehard chasers and fearless makers
high heels carving holes in the concrete floor
how is that possible?
holding hands on carved bridges made from men so long ago
touching each other’s shadows
behind telephone poles
dreaming mid-yawn
spinning in silk and satin spindled suits and dresses
red streaked eyes and tempered smiles and luxurious bodices
dancing on picnic looking tabletops
laughing our butts off
swinging from low hanging chandeliers
drinking from low budget wine glasses with koolaid since we’re minors
laying on each other’s chests and stroking each other’s hair fervently
trying to ***** dance in the sparkle of the sunlight
catching each other as we fall into trusting positions
pretending to be spies on top secret missions
grabbing my waist and falling onto the sparkly clean floor
becoming so mad yet never unsure
captivated by your lips and the way your skin twinkles a million different shades
and the way your voice calls my name in a billion languages,
some completely made up even
meticulously planning the way our shoes will leave marks in the dusty spots of the castle
sweating and eating brunch for dinner and not eating filet as an entree but as an appetizer
falling into your strong arms and losing control of what we are
seeing stars in the retinas of your eyes and mysteriously feeling dead-alive
like never before
nobody would have ever seen the manner in which you bat your eyelashes at me
and how the soft murmur of the breeze echoes across the coarse part of your cheek
and calls for me
safe and compact into a life that’s so magically intact
loving would never have been so tranquil if we had planned every single sought after moment
candidly slow dancing in the velvet summers day
being odd and obscure and strange in several colors and in multiple ways
touching the surface of your ocean wave body
sloshing so wonderfully
the rhythmic sound and all your capabilities
the rampant sweat clinging to your face, your throat,
looking at me
clowning around, tackling each other while grinning wildly
pillow fighting so hard the feathers exit and get caught on our wet tongues and shivering bodies,
and we collapse and watch hours and hours of tv while we sing karaoke from the 80s and pretend to be heartbroken like in the mvs
sitting on established thrones without the grueling jobs and committed work
losing sleep cause we stay up all night playing monopoly, but mostly it’s just you making fun of me cause i don’t participate i just grab my knees and admire the way you pick up the cards and still lose to me
and watch your rage fuel our fake arguments so we end up with full stomachs and happiness
watching theater from the highest balcony and grabbing my shaky hand and ridding of my anxiety
lovers spit, kissing cherry lips in the darkness of the abyss
kicking papers off of desk offices and messing around as if we are two tiny kids
having the kind of love that doesn’t get trapped beneath the sofa cushions that are crusty and ready to give away, but haven’t yet
the kind between gapped teeth, white as ivory, licking the dwindling flavor and savoring the last moments till it’s not sugary
taking life so seriously is absurd,
instead dance ballroom style on tabletops and try ***** dancing for once in your darned life
it ain’t gonna hurt

𝘆𝗼𝘂 wake up and 𝘆𝗼𝘂 smell the flowers and 𝘆𝗼𝘂 yawn and make coffee for 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿𝘀𝗲𝗹𝗳
𝘆𝗼𝘂 live in a demonic world and 𝘆𝗼𝘂 look through it with demonic eyes
the floor shakes under 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 weight and 𝘆𝗼𝘂 feel every single step 𝘆𝗼𝘂 take
𝘆𝗼𝘂 pose in front of the million dollar camera and 𝘆𝗼𝘂 smile at the homeless laying barefoot on the street
but do 𝘆𝗼𝘂 give them money?
they sit there in rags and they beg and 𝘆𝗼𝘂 watch them and 𝘆𝗼𝘂 reply “have a nice day”
𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 clothes are made of silk and 𝘆𝗼𝘂 go to work in fancy wear every single waking day
𝘆𝗼𝘂 sleep in linen sheets and 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 pillow is so soft that 𝘆𝗼𝘂 fall into the night so easily
𝘆𝗼𝘂 wave to passerby’s in cars and 𝘆𝗼𝘂 yell across the street to girls 𝘆𝗼𝘂 find pretty
𝘆𝗼𝘂 strut in the alley, but only the one with twenty plus people
𝘆𝗼𝘂 switch sidewalks when 𝘆𝗼𝘂 see a man with a rapid heart rate who’s walking faster than usual due to being late
𝘆𝗼𝘂 grimace at him and 𝘆𝗼𝘂 continue along 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 way
𝘆𝗼𝘂 don’t tuck 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 kids in bed at night cause 𝘆𝗼𝘂 don’t have any
𝘆𝗼𝘂 don’t cry when falling onto the comforter, 𝘆𝗼𝘂 laugh instead
𝘆𝗼𝘂 online shop during the midnight hour and 𝘆𝗼𝘂 purchase Indonesian products that were made in sweatshops
𝘆𝗼𝘂 don’t condemn those who killed for no reason, but 𝘆𝗼𝘂 don’t have such ruthless shower thoughts, i suppose
𝘆𝗼𝘂 witness the moon glimmer in the desolate night as the world remains still
𝘆𝗼𝘂 fall asleep quickly and 𝘆𝗼𝘂 repeat
𝘆𝗼𝘂 do this all when the sun hasn’t risen for some
the moon hadn’t shined in the darkest of nights
the war was fueled with gaslighting and bombs
the fog hasn’t lifted, it barricades the doors of little houses
the street wasn’t bright enough and someone got tackled
the gun hasn’t stop shooting in the courtyard
the prayer was never uttered from such posh lips
the emptiness never ceased to exist
how could 𝘆𝗼𝘂 be so selfish?

breakfast in bed and perfume lingering in the stuffy air
stiff bones, the smell of bacon traveling into my bedroom
the hoarse lungs of his gagging and coughing in the other room
slamming bottles down in the kitchen, mumbling to himself
tears might be trapped inside his eyeballs, but he flicks them off before they spill down his regretful face
i lay in the half made/half messy bedsheets, almost motionless, sunken into the duvet
piles of vintage clothes laid all over the carpet, distraught and in a panic
my breathing slowed by the adrenaline rush of last night, heart beat skipping
he stumbles and grips the doorframe tightly, observing if i am asleep or not
my eyes pulled shut, tight as an opening to a safe, trying to calm my breathing in fits of trepidation
his hands—cold and clammy—graze my arms and he sets the tray down roughly
“eat,” he demands
i leap out of my pretend slumber, panting in worry, but too exhausted to fight it

so i eat.

in the unrestrained tornado
i heard the scream of a little girl
she screeched and screeched and got louder with every breath she took
i heaved deeply
so deep i felt my ribs crack a bit
but it didn’t impair me
because i was too locked in to her helpless and terrified yet determined screaming
so locked in
that i didn’t take a moment to breathe

     and that’s when the winds died down
     the roaring halted
     stopped
     the shouting of the young girl was all gone
     the uncomfortableness that i felt, dissipated
     into the shadow of the night
     no damage had been done
     everything is all good now
     i didn’t know natural disasters could be
     created inside the mind of a poser

i write and bruise my fingers just to escape
just to get a remedy for this pain
the pressure stops burning ever so slightly
but the scars still remain
still hang on my flimsy body
making towns and cities and villages
people living inside of my solar system

STOP!
calm down.
they can’t see you.
their eyes are like steel.
like iron.
life kills.
that’s what’s so evil about it.
but you can’t escape the jaws of the inevitable.
you need to stop thinking.
i mean, the overthinking type.
the type of thinking that makes your brain spin.
that escalates every tiny situation.
your pain comes from opening your eyes too wide.
shut them.
breathe.
stop panicking.
you will never be able to escape except in death.
but even the dead are lonely.
even the dead char and sear in pits they were locked in.
stop overthinking.
you write because you want to evaluate what you feel.
not just because it’s the only way to bolt away from crowded rooms and upset stomachs.
don’t bruise your fingers while touching the pen.
stop overthinking.

wAiT...
i think that i get it
sorry for all the run-on sentences
i don’t care much for punctuation
i sure don’t think rapidly about that
i just do it
so, in settings where it matters
everything in my brain halts
and i freeze
why can’t i just breathe?
it pains me to think that i am hurting my own self with my own knives
stabbing me in the heart
i shouldn’t let my hands become numb because of scribbling in the lines
i should press the pen gingerly upon the paper
softly
and i should just do it
without hesitation
just prove i can withstand the erosion
but at least i know
i write to express
and
life kills
that’s what’s so evil about it.

disappearing in the labyrinth
you are still sick
within
the passageways are getting more narrow
your head is spinning
in confusion
your lips turn purple from shivering
your hands turn cold
the greenery gets more
and more
similar
each time
through each corner
the unlucky loser never left the labyrinth
so you stress out
thinking that your escape
is just a foreign idea
an impossible task
that’ll never be put into full effect
and the maze gets tighter
minute
by minute
perhaps the once fever
dream
is molding into a forever nightmare
the lonely labyrinth
wanted you as company
misery loves it dearly
so you are trapped in this network
of dips and turns
only the embrace of narrow paths
can soothe you from
your painful fate

-(read the text in the parentheses if you care hehe)

the gates are opening
and—i don’t mean to sound crass
but the tainted and staggering woman
and the saturated spineless specimen
are ****** and plastered with poison
their corpses are decorated in holly leaves
they won’t be eligible to enter
i hate to be the pointer
the dog in the marsh
but their faces are melting
like molten lava
they will bring this disease through
the golden gates agape
i promise i am not the
burner-at-the-steak-er
i won’t aim the musket
with silver bullets
at them
and their porcelain skin
their lies are painted on them
my sore eyes make assumptions
i am shaking my throbbing finger
at your dismayed face
claiming the woman with the
squid-like back
shouldn’t enter the golden gates
but i am here
the hypocrite of the century
taking accountability
but only in privacy
i should be tossed out of the
weightless sky
not banging the gates loudly
declaring that i have a ticket
when the man in the front
says i am denied access
shrieking
demanding
appalled
who am i to say you won’t
be entering the king’s castle?
who am i to judge a soul
just as damaged as mine?
these gates were destined to
keep out stragglers
strangers
thieves
but we are catfighting
because we both think
our ways are more superior
this is such a waste of energy
how dare us both avouch
that our paths to our houses
are the correct ways to travel
ah—yet he took the road less traveled by
and surely got through
to the other side
i might know for sure
that i have the right code
to the front door
but i shouldn’t assert my dominance
on such a similar being as me
leave it up to the guard
(the one with slicked back hair
and a watercolor smile
the one with medallion teeth
and jewelry sculpted from
lemon grass, brass and gold)
at the opening of the golden gates
to call upon us disoriented people
(or illusions as i call us)
and punish and kiss and love and miss
those who
are plunging to their eternal death
the guard will decide
and i don’t think i will make it out
fully alive
or at least without a single rash
or cause of decay
or a single slap on the back for
not trying hard enough
(not a pat on the back as i would
hope for at minimal
for
getting to breathe
the same air as saints and
“paying their way” passengers)
but anyway
the women and i will give
each other fair grins
and maybe even shake twisted hands
mending the wounds we caused
by (maybe) being ignorant?
my wings will start to be restored
but i know i will probably
tumble to my eternal demise
just like the same people
who tried to dictate
other’s lives
or tried to play the guard
in a playwright
dangling the keys
but not taking the time to
review the sign up sheets
hypocrites!
(i included)

they locked lips as the evening sank further
and further
and further
the sun took one last peek
i stood in shock
and heard the band slow their music
slicing open my heart
pulling its strings
and i am still here
half dead
but wishing someone would also do that to me
or that the moonlight could help me breathe
choose the tongue over comfortability

unlikeable
write it on my
                            F      A      C       E

the air is heavy
incapable of breathing it
it clings to my mouth
******* in the
                    weights

i’ve never hated being alone more
but i know i am not just alone
i am lonely
when the sky falls
turns purple and pink
i am left in an empty battlefield
full of unloaded guns

oh, what have i come to?
but what am i kidding
i have always been unlikeable
i should have known

some of us don’t want to climb out of the tower by ourselves
some of us need to be saved
and if that means i am a damsel in distress
then so be it

i am sick of this false “female empowerment”
when it’s really just shoving ur agenda in others faces
i get sexism exists
but not everything needs to be female, female, female
a woman can do this
a woman is stronger than a man (biologically- heck no)
a woman doesn’t have to wear pink laced prom dresses and high heels (but what if she wants to?!)
a woman this, a woman that
even me, as a young woman
can’t seem to fathom why we need to shove just to make people realize
and we all know they are just rolling their eyes
this fake female empowerment, this damsel in distress, “i’m tired of the woman always getting saved”
i am not
because sometimes there’s no other way
chivalry is almost dead
because the woman who wants her husband to open the door for her and her groceries won’t
he says, who cares?
a woman is just as capable
open that dang door by yourself, Janet!

and then we have all these insane people saying it’s a woman’s right to do whatever she wants with her body
but what about the other body in her body
are we just gonna let innocent children die because some woman claimed it was her “right”?
come on, people

i understand that
woman still have a little way to go with progression and full women’s rights
but not everything is against women and their pride

let me watch snow white and call it romantic
let me dream and pine and wish for a prince to save me by his castle while stabbing a dragon
let me be saved by a man sometimes
let me get kissed when i have been poisoned
let me do something powerful without calling me a girl boss
let me do everything a man can, but without making a sound
let our bodies stop being used as symbols to empower
because some of us women hate ourselves and what our bodies have gone through and we are embarrassed
a body is a vessel, not some kind of boss-like female defining characteristic
let us be empowered without saying it
without taking off our clothes and dancing with the crystal lake in the background
please stop saying girl power because it makes me want to *****
we already have power
makes it seem as if we gain our power
but there’s no men power, huh?
we don’t say “boy power!”
no because it sounds stupid

i am a girl but i am not stomping around saying girls are better than boys, i hate all men
girls don’t get the job done better
they just make more noise to let people know they’re there

ugh, damsel in distress
so what
i least i get saved

looking around the room
watching the door
the windows
every entrance
just to see if you would come back to me

crickets.

only my eyes are lit up by the moon
the tears are streaming in slow mo
the door still hasn’t opened

that’s it.

i went to the trampoline park yesterday
and let me tell you- i have never felt more free
bounding and jumping into the air
i felt my soul condense and release
and turn into flames and dragons and mythical creatures
i felt the pressure leave me
it escaped from my gaping mouth
i stopped caring for a few hours
and it felt as if time was going super slow
it’s funny how today
the next day
i feel sore
as if it hurts me to be free
as if it is detrimental for me to get ideas about escaping
like i should be trapped in this crammed atmosphere
sore and beaten, nothing more than a menace
i can’t be free
i can’t be free
i will never be free

i imagine falling in love is like watching the rain fall onto the porch, dampening the surface
i imagine it is sweet, like drinking soda and downing smarties in the embrace of a summer day
it must feel tingly, like your whole body is on fire
it must be stone cold yet hot as blazes
it must ache and churn and screech and beg you to quit, like a silly addiction

i imagine falling in love is like tumbling headfirst from the sky, diving into a world of the unknown, but you know that’s where freedom lies
i imagine it is fluffy, marshmallow, cotton candy type
it must be fabulous, must be scary
it must feel like the world is crashing down, but you are saved by your parachute
it must tear your insides open and make you scream for mercy

i imagine falling in love is like dancing alone in a rose garden, holding hands with the perfectly positioned statues
i imagine it is heavy, like a weight you almost cannot lift, but you manage
it must be fairytale like, almost as if you are captured in a screenplay, so you act in a Hollywood way
it must be light, like floating on top of clouds or touching silk that softens your skin and removes your scars
it must be troubling, having something so momentous happen to you without any sort of control

i imagine falling in love is like staring into someone’s eyes and finding their soul and reaching inside of their eye sockets to pull it out
i imagine it is fruitful, one nudge and it is a cherry blossom tree, evergreen and forever spring
it must be quick witted, it must happen so fast you don’t even notice the difference
it must be rapid, like heart beating in the middle of the night when life creeps up on you
it must be filling, like eating mounds of bread and filling up before the main course arrives
it must be everlasting, the feeling, the rush of a glance shooting straight to the gut, to the heart, to the veins
it must be enveloping, dragging every part of you into its embrace

i imagine falling in love is like smiling in pure silence, feeling your reflexes calm because this is what your body is supposed to do
i imagine it is perfect, perfect in a way that isn’t entirely godlike, but it feels like perfection to such joyful eyes
it must be like leaping and bounding in fresh magnolia fields, erasing the anxiety and the pressure of society, just so you can be free and flap your hummingbird wings
it must be like finding home and never feeling lost ever again
no matter the circumstance

sometimes i write to no one
nobody is filling the void deep in my soul
so i make up fantasy men to take up the space
to fill in the cracks with their vibrant smiles
cheekbones accentuated
i instruct these prosthetics to heat my freezing
cold heart
stuck in a plain old reverie with kisses and children dancing in a ballroom
these fake and imagined life forms leave behind a vestige of fantastical beauties
these creations are flowing like water in secret caverns
dancing around my empty body
healing my blemishes but they still return to the creations’ surprise
they lift my limp limbs and lower me over the ancient greek pond
letting me drink the rich and luscious stream
filling my body with water, weighing me down
more mass and a bigger center of gravity
btw i am almost dead by the time they finish these rituals
these fantasy men care for me day in and day out, but they are sculpted from my mind
not real, this is not reality
they make me feel “happier” and “fuller” in my eyes but i know this is all a façade
naked and no one shall know
that the girl who waits here for fantastical sculptures to touch her and clothe her is a deep and dark disappointment
some say, “what an ingrate.”
some don’t even bother to care
nobody truly cares
and i figured this out many months ago
i am finally letting go
and as i turn to these creations i have created inside of my head
they blow and dissolve into the wind
therefore i have virtually no one
so i weep into my pruny hands
then draw the conclusion that i will never be loved
at least i know one thing for certain  :/

i talk to my friend on the phone
but i can’t help but wish it was a boy
cause we could sneak out late just to laugh at ourselves
or swing on the swing set and you could catch me midair
but wait, these are fantasies
i will never be loved
by a boy who will wrap me up in his arms
treasure me and tell me i’m one of a kind
and not want my body but long for my soul
yearn for my presence and not for the immodest clothes that i wear
i wish it could be like 1922
when boys were men and girls were women
all of the romances written at that time
were sweet and delicate and dainty and slices of life
whereas now i hate every boy that i see because they like my figure and dislike me
but maybe i’m a rambler
and i have nothing to complain
even so, i’m just as lonely at the end of the day
i wish there was someone who would be my umbrella in the rain
but those boys are so scarce nowadays
i fear they’ve gone away
extinct
dead
eliminated
i’m waiting for the day we are all monsters
not waiting for the day when i find a 60 degree day love
in between my polyester sheets
when we both wake up
and we are just in peace

i want a fire escape love
i want a “feels like i’m in space” love
i want a looking around every crowd to see your sweat dribbled face love
i want a kiss in your car love
i want a hold passionately in the dark love
i want an “aim at your heart cause i know where you are” love
i want a forgiving love
i want a long living love
i want a “shower you in kisses cause this is what i’m giving” love
i want a meadow runner love
i want a midsummer love
i want a “lay in a field of flowers with the sky above, us under” love
i want a fully encapsulated love
i want a “you make me exasperated” love
i want a never cause arguments or leave me aggravated love
i want a strong love
i want a hold me while i’m crying hard love
i want a never let the sadness get too far love
i want a peaceful love
i want a hand that removes the letal love
i want a “give me medicine so i don’t become feeble” love
i want a free love
i want a frolic on the beach love
i want an “end of the week it’s you i want to see” love
and i want an everlasting love
i want a light up the shadows that are casting love
i want an “end of a disaster it’s you and i that are going to be lasting” love

i want you, love

i met Good
oh, she was a beauty
she was so perfect, everything almost felt rehearsed
she sat down beside me, and handed me a cup of tea
and complimented the shirt i was cautious about wearing in fear of seeming unprofessional
her voice was smooth like silk
and her laugh was sweet like cotton candy and jolly like Santa Claus
she only told me fabulous news
news about how much she loved the world and how many people provided her joy
how a kindhearted gentleman saved a baby deer from a rabid bear
and she spoke with such eloquence that i couldn’t help but listen attentively
and i smiled
and smiled
the whole time we held the engaging conversation
when she and i bid our goodbyes, she kissed me on both cheeks and said i had beautiful decadently smelling hair
i smiled again for good measure
then i left

i met Evil
he grimaced as soon as he saw me
he seemed alarmed that someone wanted to have a word with him
i sat down without speaking and i let him start things off
he glared at me with discontent and didn’t crack a smile once
his judgy eyes shone on me and i felt insecure and confused
his voice was raspy and it sounded like he smoked frequently
his lips would curl up in disgust if i looked at him strangely, so i just watched the water bubble and churn in my cup
his body language showed malicious intent
but his eyes had some kind of spark in them
a light, a blue/violet light that overshadowed the deep dark brown eyes he bore
underneath it all, i am pretty sure Evil is just misunderstood
he isn’t all bad sometimes
he isn’t loving the bloodbath twenty four seven
so once i got up and whispered in his ear
“you aren’t all what you are cracked out to be, so just put the beating and stabbing devices away please.”
and i left without looking back

i met Indifference
now he was a doozy
he was nervous and shaky
it was painfully obvious, but i overlooked it
he half smiled sometimes
fake smiled to make me feel validated after i told a few icebreaking jokes
but sometimes he would watch me with a scornful face
so i fixed my posture and stopped conversing for a while, then began again
he never gave me an opinion or a complete response
it would always be “maybe,” “only time can tell,” and “i don’t really know.”
the vagueness of his disdainful answers fascinated me
how can someone remain neutral about everything?
he wasn’t at all like anyone i had ever met
his face was always neutral
his reactions never negative nor positive
and he showed confusion when i said things that were too passionate or too far sided
so i asked him a quick question
“what do you think is the right way? Evil or Good?”
his eyelids quivered and he shrugged with little effort or desire
“i don’t know.
i think we are all evil and good in our own ways.
you may think a rabbit is good by eating grass, but you are bad for eating animals, another living organism.
evil cannot be defined by bad where as good cannot be defined as the only way.
we are all mixtures of both.
therefore, that is why i am Indifferent.
i choose to be everything
and after all, good comes from wanting to be loved and valued in society, whilst evil mostly comes from being misunderstood and i am none of the sort.”

my innocence floated away in fourth grade
when all my classmates grew up and it petrified me.
the world has ruined my bones, has ruined the soil where i planted my first milkweed for the monarch butterflies
we have all been destroyed
we just don't realize
or maybe we do, we just shower and bask in it.  
every soul is so uncouth and the world now stings more than the crack of the whip.
termites are crawling inside our mouths
moths are being inhaled through our nostrils.
when i was nine, everything had a clear answer and i was always happy
but now that my innocence has been scraped from the bark of a crabapple tree
i am so bewildered and i can’t find any sanctuary and life is so unendurable.
restore my patient calm and timid mind
i loathe this planet and this wicked institutionalized harbor where i now have to spend my days
all because i lost my innocence in fourth grade

only true poets listen to the voices in their heads

now i am doubting that i will see you
it seems way way too good to be true
march third is too close
i could wear it like a scarf
i thought i wanted to see your dim lit face
but now i am nervous
and i am stapling my fingers
anticipating everything
escalating the situation

ever been anxious about seeing someone you’ve known for ten years before?
well, i am
and you might not even be there
might not want to waste your time on such time consuming activities
i wouldn’t blame you
i have never been interesting let alone stand alone material

now i am contemplating and overthinking
why can’t i just stop torturing myself?
this is getting out of hand
this is over some stupid reunion
this is getting so overwhelmingly nerve-racking
and it’s wailing so loud
like a siren in the sea
that you wouldn’t want to die for
or get eaten alive by
it’s so excruciating
the pain i feel when i relapse
and when i fixate on the silly things

help.
that isn’t a request
that is a demand
a constant reminder that i am spiraling
and that you will never help.
and that i will never regain my strength
to climb up the steep mountain

help.
i am so serious this time
the days are getting longer
and you are getting farther away from me
please help.
especially since this is all because i am worried that you might not come
show up and look me in the eyes
or wonder what i am doing on such a perplexing thursday night

now i am doubting that you will even show
so i am lining this heart of mine with barricades so no foreigner can get inside
come if you can
if you have the time
but i won’t cry
if you only stay for a little while
just stay.

i hate the sun

why?

maybe it’s because i am never truly fully happy
or because i don’t want my ***** pale and wretched skin illuminated in the light for everyone and their mother to see
maybe because the sun shined when i was having a crisis and now i resent his rays
or because the sun is gorgeous and i am not and jealousy can eat someone alive
i am sick of watching the sun rise and fall almost every single day
only a few clouds bid me goodnight
maybe that’s why i find comfort in the gray and the gloom
because i can hide in the cracks and crevices and in the light from the moon
i hate the sun because he understands how much i despise him and yet he still returns over and over again
my family say that i sound crazy
sound like a vampire or something
i just retreat and retreat
the sun shouldn’t follow me shouldn’t define me shouldn’t label me depressed for hating the extra light
but i will still hate the brightness of the sun no matter what

why can’t i be as pretty and translucent as water?
the little tiny ripples
the mistakes
the errors- they are beautiful

when i am worried
the tears fall out of my eye sockets
the only part of me
that i find admirable

water, why can’t i be exactly like you?
melting into different shapes
and sizes
shimmering in the strawberry light?

why can’t i be as beautiful?

apparently the opposite of love is fear
so why do you think running away from him skittishly after he burned you
means he loves you?

my tears could be your tears
f
a
l
l
i
n
g
          ever so s
                          l
                            i
                             g
                               h
                                 t
                                   l
                                    y

                        ­                      different but not
                                              quite noticeable

my tears could be
a part
of the rain
d r i z z l i n g
onto your

                                f
                       a             e
                                c
                  
                                                  my struggles
                                                  could­ transfer
                                                  to yours
          
                      through the w
                                            a
                 ­                           t
                               c y c l  e
                                            r
          
   ­       we aren’t so different
          after a
                       l
                         l

firstly: i know one hundred and fifty percent that i will blush when i see your face after all these years. my smile will morph into a full face frenzy of happiness. and i will definitely hide behind my friend that i see basically every single day. sorry, you always brought out my nerves
secondly: i miss you and i have missed you so incredibly much ever since you left and i left too. i don’t want to admit that unless you read my poetry one day, which i might end up giving you the username and you’ll read every poem i have ever written, you will never know what i truly feel about you. breach of privacy, but it’s for you. cause i wrote almost every time i missed you and i tried to summon you as if you would appear outside of my window, throwing rocks, waking me up in the middle of the still night. maybe you don’t miss me?
thirdly: i will struggle making conversation with you. i was always horrible at doing that before, but now it’s gonna be even worse. you will laugh and say i am being awkward and then i will laugh to try to cover the awkward, but it will always creep around the corners where i reside. i am hoping it can be just like before without any hesitation
fourthly: i am gonna show up to impress, probably in ripped jeans that show off my thighs. maybe you will be encapsulated by my features and maybe ask for my number that you never got. who am i kidding? from you stemmed my worst insecurities and the nights when i sobbed the loudest in the pouring rain. but i will still put my heart and my body out on the line, ready for objection and rejection of all kinds. maybe this time you will call me “pretty” or “pleasing.”
and lastly: life hasn’t been the same since i have seen you. i am afraid that i will act differently than you have been expecting. a different girl from a different world in a different form. don’t judge me for shifting my personality to fit in. whatever, as long as you say hi and we all have great recollections of such fantastic memories, i think it will all be ok. in the end, i am the only one who can control what i do and how i speak. i just can’t wait to see you and everyone else. and read my poems :D