We're back there again.
That feeling that I'm only a step child.
I do not know what you want from me.
But your overthinking is effecting my sanity too.
I appreciate everything you do for me.
Except the part where you shove words down my throat.
"You're like the wind" he said,
"Shifting and changing and sometimes unbearable".
It kills to never know when you will be normal.
But sometimes you're gone and not my mother.
Some type of high trip maybe.
I don't know who you are anymore.
Ever since 2011 it hasn't been the same.
I know you blame him, but you've made it go on longer than it should.
It kills me to see the way things are.
He's hurting and dying.
Breaking his back to please you.
And he, the younger, is shutting himself up away from the world.
You take the hope and life and only think of yourself.
A manipulative martyr.
Everything has been attempted.
The therapy, apologizing, and effort it does nothing.
I want my loving mother back.
The one who put all else before herself.
Who acted like a mother.
God I pray to have her back.
The soothing, the warm meals, and calm environment.
Oh how you're breaking my heart.
Not my own heart no, but it breaks for you to be the person you were before the storm.
My mother.
Who loved me to the moon and back.
Now you won't even say goodbye.

I've never just felt the need to write.
You make me feel like I have to write it all down, transferring thoughts to intricate curves on a blank page.
You say I smile a lot and I think I know why.
You whisper you're infinite in my ear makes my soul catch light.
It's been a while since someone parted my lips into a crescent curve, but I feel
infinite too.
Maybe it's the brown and blue husky your eye holds or the odd sense that I feel like I can trust someone since the fire.
You bring out the thoughtful, intricate parts of myself I've been trying so desirously to unfold.
Uncovering the person I’ve aspired to turn.
I adore the person I am with you.
I'm a free spirit gently floating in the symphonic directions of the breeze.
I love that you want to know every small thing about me, that you want to know me.
I find myself listening to lyrics and not just the sound of music.
I know you're different like me, we live the same life.
Adventures are always arising.
We took the bridge to Narnia.
We went hiking behind my studio.
We swam in a one foot fountain.
We made out on the grass breathing in the sparkles of the sky.
We got ****** before a reggae concert.

They say not to make yourself small.
But then why must love be so big?
Can a person with power and confidence truly love as much as someone who gives their heart away?
Can power have a heart?
Naivety is all that seems senseful.
The less you know the happier perhaps?
They also say the best thing a girl can be in this world is a beautiful little fool.
But no that is for the hopeless.
God is within so I can never fall.
She has wisdom and innocence.
She needs the one who only wants one, someone who can see eye to eye.
Someone who can be young and dumb in the sober moments.
They can be infinite when they only even look at each other.
But this isn't about them.
It's about her.

She knows her worth.
Look into her eyes.
You'll see the pain of the past.
She loves old books.
She likes to be different.
Not wild, but free and also intelligent.
She's the girl who will love you so much she feels powerless.
So maybe she's better off alone.
She's perfectly content alone lost within her imagination.
She loves the white on the page.
She wants her innocence to be loved.
Is she Innocent?
God tells her of how beautiful she is.
Long brown hair, grey stones as eyes, and cheeks a little rosy.
A soul on fire and heart a little broken.

She will spend hours in the bookstore.
Blasting Mr. Martin in the roads.
Sitting in the rain bleeding onto the page.
She is powerful.
She cannot stop.
For what is better than to say I know God and he loves ME.
He wants me.
No one thing can ever bring her harm so long as she knows this.
She cries frequently because she feels the pain the world brings.
She cannot stand against the worldly pains yet but she can in God.
She's a quiet one but the thoughts in her head dance round and round constantly.
It's amazing she does not burst.
Her head seems to be her only enemy at times, but also her greatest comforter.

She wears the same old black boots, breaking at the seams.
Her best friend is a book.
She sits in the rain with no manicure on her fingers.
She wears the same old flannel.
And long flowy dresses that may reveal too much.
Her favorite color is black.
She doesn't pretend to like what everyone else pretends to "love".
She would rather watch Harry Potter on a Friday night than get drunk with them all.
She is classy in her own way.
She hates those Hate words.
She does not brush her hair.
She loves her kitten.
And her coffee.
She's quiet but not stuck up.
She's inward but loves herself.
She hates reality and loves Fairy tales.
She wears flowers on her head instead of her jewels.
She's 18 and still reads about the lost boys.
She likes to drink out of old teacups.
And eat expensive pastries.
She dreams about bouquets of peonies in all their simplicity.
She wonders what it will be like in the city.
She's reached heights she never thought obtainable.
She likes to think she's creative but who's to say what creativity is.
She's knows she's a bit crazy and dramatic at times but aren't the best of us all a bit mad?
She trusts no one, but oddly enough she trusts him.

SHE cannot be defined.

You ask why I believe in Jesus.
Well why did you believe in Santa Claus as a kid?
Because he brought you gifts right?
Why question something that brings you gifts right.
That's why I belive in Jesus.
He brings me life.
Allows me to dream endlessly.
Gives my mind freedom to shut out the ghosts because he has plans for me to prosper.
But most of all ignites my soul and allows my mind to romp all the days of my life.