There's a fire in your eyes,
But a calm surrender in your voice.
There's a flare in your touch,
But a wave of peace in your heart.

You hands
Grazing my skin,
And your lips
Upon mine,
Is a type of home
I've never had
And a type of hope
I've never felt.

But in this flowery depiction
Of love and all that it is,
I have to say that there is
A hold you have over me,
That reigns my madness in,
It keeps my insanity
In check.

If you are the sunlight,
Allow me to be ivy upon a wall,
Growing and crawling up to reach you,
Flourishing and blooming
All the while.

Close your eyes,
And realize
Things are dangerous
From my end.

Each and every step
If not placed correctly
Will result in my shattering,
But if placed
In the order
It should
It will
Result
In maybe something better
Than before?

And I am frozen
I am cold
But I see a type of light
Within you.

If I were colder
I would be bolder
And if I were stronger
It would take longer
To break me apart.

But I am
Who I am
And I'd rather be me
Than anyone else.

For the friends that hold
My heart
Don't know of the part
They play
That keeps the darkness
At bay.

And my light
My love
Knows that I am his
And that he is mine,
And in time
I will be whole and healed.

I know I have been bent
Into a different shape
But sometimes it's hard to tell
If I can ever go back
To my previous shape.

And maybe I can't.

And maybe I don't want to.

Maybe my lines
Just need to be more defined
And maybe I'll be
Just fine.

I am not the same shape
I was before.
I have jagged edges
And indents and scuffs,
But I am better
As the shape I am now.

It is unfair of me to ask you
To love this shape compared to the one
You once knew.

But if you are
To find a way
To love it
The same,
Then please,
Go ahead.

"I have been bent and broken. But, I hope, into a better shape." - Charles Dickens, Great Expectations

Because there are moments
Where you feel defeated
Because the past
Feels like it weighs more than you can lift.

And when I dream,
I dream of those who tried to destroy me,
And I am not to be destroyed
By any God nor man,
I am much too stubborn for that.

Though when I dream,
I sometimes dream of the day I'll finally lose you,
And I say finally because that day is sure to come.

And I have seen hell,
And I have greeted Death,
And I have defied him
And denied his offers.

Have I ever told you
Of when I was a child?
When I was admitted into the hospital
For two weeks or longer
Because I was so sick
That if I had gotten there in later
I wouldn't be here,
And I would never have met you.

And since that brief encounter
With death
I had forever since been confused
And fascinated by Death.

Maybe Death only steals us away,
Because he is lonely.
That is a thought I once had.

That Death is terribly lonely,
And it has skewed his selfless thoughts
Into selfish ones.

But he releases us,
Into Otherworlds
Upon teaching us
What we had to learn from here.

There are parts to my life
In which I have seen hell,
And I have felt it.
In which I have stood up to face it,
And it has left me bent in a way
That I'm not sure if I can go back
To how I was before.

What can heal best
And what can hurt best
Other than the love we give
And the love we get?

There's a funny kind of feeling
That stirs within your stomach
And it flutters into your chest,
And pulls into your bones,
The very same way
Fear paralyzes you,
This feeling drives you to act.

And there's a funny type of way
That the fire in your eyes burn
And there's a funny type of way
It burns me.

I think they call it lovesick
Because love makes you ache,
And it hurts.
It twists at your heart,
Especially in moments
Where you can't make anything better,
And even worse in the moments
Where you can't explain
Why you hurt so bad.

There are many ways in which a person can be broken,
And many ways in which a person can be healed.

And pain shows itself in various platforms.

Some people numb their pain through entertainment, or ***, or drugs.
Other people allow their pain to be felt,
Through music or writing or art.

Some people lash out because of their broken parts.
Whether it be through rage, physical or verbal,
Or tears that tear them open.

And the only way to truly heal and learn from
The things that break you,
Is to feel them.

So hold the memories of what broke you close to your heart,
Remember the things that were taken with a grain of salt.
Maybe they weren't as good as you wanted them to be,
As you remember them to be,
Maybe it wasn't all it was cracked up to be,
But it was still there,
And it was still yours,
And it was still important.

It is important to mourn,
Important to grieve,
To remember the loss,
Because it was part of you.

And maybe that's what pain is entirely.
It's all some kind of loss.

But we gain new parts of ourselves
After every loss.
And maybe that's important.

I want to show you all the ways
In which you mean to me,
And I want to show you all that
You've done to heal me,
But I'm still scarred and bruised,
I'm still a little less
Than I guess
I could be.

And it's hard for me
To open up
To anyone
I don't know how to explain
The dreadful details
Which explain
Why certain things set me off
Why I shiver and I shake
Why I seem so defeated.

I'll tell you little bits
So it makes sense
But I'm terrified
If I tell you anything more
Than the little you know
That maybe you'll think of me
A little less
Than you did before.

I want to show you
How much you mean to me,
But I can't love you properly,
Until I learn to love me,
And part of that
Is letting you love me too.

Sometimes i think of fantastical things
And how i wish i could know most things
And how i wish i was stronger
And better
And so much more
Worth it.

But these things i think up
Remind me i'm more than
My mistakes
Or my scars
Or the things that
Left me slightly less than before.

"I have been bent and broken. But, I hope, into a better shape." - Charles Dickens, Great Expectations.

You're asleep,
And i'm cooking dinner,
And i listen to your thoughts
Whe you choose to speak them
Because i like hearing your worldview
And your voice levels me.

But sometimes i need to talk,
And i feel like i'm an annoyance
And whatevet excites me
Doesn't really
Matter

And it's that way with most.

I've had my likes called stupid
My confessions of triggers called cancer
So why should you
Hear me?

I'm falling into the
Just-because-it's-not-all-the-time-
It's-okay
Mindset
Again

­And that's not okay.

If I think
I'll over think
And if I over think
I'll cry.

And I know I'm the problem,
I know I'm not quite
Where I should be
And I know I have a lot of
Problems
But I can be better
If only given the chance.

I will falter,
I will fail,
But some days
That's okay.

But I can't think
About it.
I can't think
Can't react
Just remain steady.

Maybe I just want to be good enough.
Maybe I just want to be told that I am enough.
Maybe I just want to be anything but forgotten.

Maybe I just want to not feel like I have to run away,
Maybe I just want to feel like I belong.
Maybe this is hard for me to say,
But maybe it's been this way all along.

Because maybe I want you to see me,
And maybe I want you to hear me.
And maybe I just want to be me,
And maybe, if you could just love that part of me.

Then maybe I'd be okay,
And maybe I wouldn't want to push you away.
And maybe if I felt lovable,
Then fcking maybe I'd be stronger and more able.

Because, fcking maybe, if my parents didn't fck me up.
And, fcking maybe, if those ******* didn't use me,
And maybe
Just maybe
If I could heal at the rate you want to see results
Things would be better,
I'd be better.
But I can't.

I will never belong
The way I want to.

I will never be yours and yours alone.

My mind is too twisted
By my insanity
And you're too distracted
By
All of it.

("It" being every possible
Distraction)

I'll never be perfect,
I'll only ever be me.

And that is very, very, far from perfect.

I do things better when I'm drunk.
I think fuzzily,
But I feel much more profoundly.

I do lots of things better
When I don't think too much,
Though.

When I giggle
When I laugh
When I'm all smiles
And nothing fazes me.

But I shouldn't have more than two drinks
When I'm with you,
Especially when you're drinking.

I barely have enough patience for your drunk-self
When I'm sober,
But when I feel this much,
For both you and I,
I can't do it.

Frankly,
You make an *** of yourself.

I'd point out why,
But I'm too buzzed for that.

I'm sure I'll forget
Come morning.

The only person who has ever been there
In my moments of brokenness

Is four hundred miles away,
And I know
She knows
I love her.

And I know
She knows
I appreciate it.

But if I could give her the moon,
To keep her in my life,
I would have captured it within a ribbon'd box
By now.

When I was broken and bleeding,
Who stitched up my wounds?
Not you,
It was not you.

When I was scared and alone,
Who held me close
And whispered of my valor?
It was not you,
No it was not you.

When I was building myself out of the darkness
When I was finding my strength
When I was beginning to feel whole
Who was there?

It was you.

And I like
To believe
That part you
Recognized the blossoming strength
In part of me
And saw it as
A hope.
A light.

But damage does not heal damage.
And while I want nothing more
Than to take the hurt away from you,
For I was not there when you
Felt small and alone and angry and scared;
I can't take that away.

And I desperately want to,
I would give my heart and soul
To take away your pain,
But I cannot heal you.

And you cannot heal me.

I just can't with the
Lack of compassion
And I just can't with
The way the world is
And I just can't
Understand
What makes the hypocritical
Irrational
Spewing you do
Make sense.

I know neither option was good,
But the only good option
Got ******* over.
And we had hope for this world,
We had good things coming,
And say what you want
But I think compassion and caring
And thinking the best
Is much better than money
And power
And whatever is easiest for God-****-You.

There are things more important
Than money.
There are things more important
Than power and praise.

We have lost sight in that.

So I have lost faith in you, in us, in all that is human.

We, as a species, are lost.

And I just don't know
What can guide us back.

Can anything
Guide as back
On track?

Or are we doomed to repeat
The same mistakes,
The same war crimes,
The same mass genocide,
The same cruelty and hypocrisy
Over and over and over
Until we're gone and obliterated
And all that's left of humans
Of us
Is a depleting O-zone layer,
That may or may not be on its way to healing
By the time we're dead and dust.

And
I just can't
Bring myself to believe
This is it.

You are the bluebird of peace
In the springtime.
The energy filled breeze
Of summer.

You are the hope for better days,
You are what grounds me back into place,
You are the sun, the moon and the stars.
Why?
You just are.

I see constellations in your voice,
I hear birdsong within your touch.
I feel the sunlight from the fire in your eyes.
You hold the whole sky,
You are the sun, the moon, and the stars.
Why?
You just are.

You are a dazzling within the depths of your soul,
And you hold stardust within the feathers you use for flight.
You swept me off my feet time and time again.
You taught me to fly,
And though I may falter,
I'm doing better than I've ever done.

You are the sun, the moon, and the stars.
Why?
You just are.

I want to twirl like constellations
In your eyes
I want to shimmer and shine
And I'll be just fine
If you promise you won't leave
Tonight.

So I'm kind of like the weather,
On the good days,
I'm great,
And on the bad days
I'm the worst.

But when I'm bright,
I'm the brightest star,
I am all smiles and sunshine and green grass
And birds singing
And flowers blooming,
How I'd love to be a flower
So I could be beautiful.

But flowers wilt,
And clouds roll in,
And I can be the storm
That destroys everything you loved,
And you fight it or you leave it,
But in the end
There's only destruction in my wake.

But sometimes
In order for things to grow
There needs to be fire,
There needs to rain,
So the grass and trees can grow greener.
So the flowers can really bloom.

I am good,
And I am bad,
Not everything has to be
Wrong or right,
But I don't do grey
Very well.

All that's known
From here to the past
There is light
There are shadows
But take me to the lasting parts
From the past

And we're cold
And putting up fronts
Because it's a coping skill
And that jazz.

But here we are
Found together
Under cherry red skies,
Like birds of a feather
Or dying stars,
Seen distantly from emerald grasses.

If I could hold
Your heart entirely
I would hold it so close
To mine
That your warmth
And mine
Would flourish
Into ours.

You are the red and orange of the sunset
And i am the grey and blue of the clouds.

You are pink and blue and green,
And I am the lilac, the yellow, and the soft orange.

Hold me
To hold me over
I am cold
And i am calm
And we are the the daylight,
And simultaneously the nighttime.

You won't get it
Because you don't get it
Living as a hopeless romantic
In a hook up culture
Is a special kind of hell.

I'm not the kind of person
Who doesn't fall hard.
I don't do
Low key commitment.

I'm all loving
And loving hard
And with all
That i am

I've been told
My way of loving
Is dangerous
But it's all that
I know.

I don't look at others
And think
"But how would it have gone
With you?"

I am not
I can not
Fathom another
When my heart is
Already claimed.

You won't get it
Because you don't get it.

You're all over the place,
A flight risk.

I'm already home.

My birthday
Is Sunday
And i'm terrified
Something always
Goes wrong
And all i want
Is for it to go right.

My thoughts are split.

Part of me wants a normal birthday.
Flowers, dinner, a present or two.

The other part of me wants to hide under my blanket the entire day.

But what if i go the route
Of a normal day.
I'm selfish
For wanting flowers
And i'm
A glutton
For wanting dinner
And greedy
For presents.

And if i go the other way
I'm melodramatic
For thinking the day
Will be terrible,
And i am making it so
By being scared.

I lose
Either way.

I don't know how
To be someone
You'd miss.

I'm awkward
And spastic
And giggly
And over zealous.

I'm terrified.
I shut people out.
I say too much.
I don't say enough.

I'm cold
And cruel
And i hurt too easily.

I just want to be
The one
For you
That makes it all okay.

I just want
To be the one
You want to be with
At the end of the day.

And promises don't mean much to me.

Actions speak
Louder than words.

But i'm all words and honesty.
My actions are usually skewed
By my twisted sense of
Guilt.

I wanted to be the kind of girl
That made you feel like
I was the only one in the world.

I wanted to be the kind of girl
That made looking at other girls
Mostly unfulfilling and pointless.

I wanted to be the kind of person
That you would be terrified to lose.

But with reality settling in,
And my realization
Of my being so easily replaceable
To family,
And on the coming anniversary
That reminds me consistently
Of what a poor friend
And person
I am

I realize
I am not
That kind of girl
That you long for.

I am not the kind
Of person
To be missed.
People do not
Get attached to me.
And why should they?

I keep telling myself
That i deserve the love
I keep trying to give
Everyone else.
And i keep telling myself
That i deserve someone
Who would be terrified to lose me.

But i don't think
Anyone would be.

Sunshine
Softens
Blue skies.

I was born
Under a waxing gibbous
Moon
I was born within
Darker days
But light was just overhead.

I was born in a blizzard
I was born within a storm

I was the lost cause
That found themselves.

Be the sunshine,
Or be the storm.

But either way,
Be something.

There is light,
There is dark,
And no,
You don't have to choose
Right now.

I am the sunshine.
I am the rain.
I am the promise
Of brighter days.

I am not
Perfect.
I am an
Extraordinarily
Flawed human.

I cry a lot.
I laugh a lot.
I yell a lot.

I am quiet when i should not be.
I am loud at the wrong times.

I smile when i'm uncomfortable.
I cannot cry when others are crying.

But i am full of love
And full of empathy,
Sometimes too much.

I am whole, in a different way.

You have taught me that nothing is irreparably broken.
I have learned that i am greater
Than just the sum of my parts.

Please heed your own words,
As mine seem to fail to reach you.

You have to remind yourself
That the negative things
Humans point out about you
Are usually the worst things
They see
In themselves.

So rip me
To shreds.
So tear me
Apart.

I am empty,
I am bleeding,
I am yours
For the taking.

But I certainly hope
That they know
I will sooner
Or later
Care less.

"If you feel so miserable about your life that you must try to hurt others, then I sincerely
And whole heartedly
Feel bad for you.
I might only be
5'1", but I would never want
To be that small."

You think you know
The ghost in my bones,
But you get all this misconstrued truth
From the haunted look in my eyes.

You do not know
The ghost in my bones
The way they haunt
The way they moan.

You do not know
The ghost in my bones
The way they pray,
And worst of all,
The way they're not coming home.

You took to the air
As though you were born to fly.
I have trouble staying airborne,
Probably because I was born to run,
Seeing as I've got running away
Running through my veins.
But I'd like nothing more,
Than to stay.

You chase storms-of-people.
thunderstorms.
rain showers.
heat lightning
with light mist.

but I am a hurricane.
I am all necessary destruction
and eerie calm.
I am the uprooting of trees
centuries older than myself,
I am the burning of homes, towns, and worst of all, bridges.
I am rain upon rain upon sheets of rain.
I am winds the break concrete,
that break people.

but what people often times forget
about weather and people alike
is that we are constantly changing.

I am a hurricane
on my darkest days.

I am sunlight
and clear skies
and the smell of mid to late spring
on my brightest.

I am crab-apple blossoms.
I am lilacs tinted the scent of the breeze.
I am daffodils
popping up from the dark soil
to greet early spring
with a bright and fierce
yellow passion.

you're used to
thunderstorms.
rain showers.
heat lightning
with light misting.

they all amount to
partially cloudy
sunny with a chance of rain
a half hearted dismal drizzle
on their good days.

my heart and soul
is the hurricane
and the spring sunshine.

I am destruction,
and I am creation.
it is the very essence
of my being.

if you're a storm chaser,
you're in for one hell of an
adventure.

You were a grey sky
and I was terrified of rain.
You were the churning clouds,
and I didn't have an umbrella.
You were the downpour,
and for the first time,
I was cleansed by the rain
instead of being stained.

Humans are stardust.
Nothing more
Nothing less.
We, being stardust, are also energy.
So we cannot be created
Nor destroyed.
Only reborn, constantly.

And I think there's something
Just lovely about that.

I think the reason some of us like the smell of gasoline,
Or the smell of a charred grill,
Or just things burning,
Is because that's what they say space smells like.
And think those few of us
Who enjoy the smell of gasoline,
Charred grills,
And burning things,
Are those of us who somewhat remember
Being nothing more, and nothing less, than a star.

And I think the only people who can remember being stardust
Are the newest and oldest of souls.
Because they're the ones closest to both
The beginning
And the end.

And, while I know it hurts to remember
Things you cannot fathom,
I think there's something beautiful--
Strangely beautiful.
Obscurely beautiful,
In having lived so many lives
Yet still remembering when you were the very first you.

Humans are stardust.
Nothing more,
Nothing less.
We, being stardust, are also energy.
So we cannot be created
Nor destroyed.
Only reborn, constantly.

And I think there's something
Just lovely about that.

I couldn't stay asleep
Last night.
So when I felt your arms
Around my waist,
I have to admit,
It still comes as a shock.

I've spent years
Trying to deny
Trying to pretend
That I could love someone
Other than you,
Because it certainly seemed
Like I would never come back.

When you have nothing,
You make due with what you have.

Maybe it's cruel
That I was just making due,
Maybe it's cruel
That I used them
To replace you.
Rest assured, though.
I never loved anyone
The way I love you.

And maybe I'm a fool,
But I like the saying

"Light your past on fire,
And move on."*

Meaning burned bridges
Should stay ashes.

Thankfully our bridge never burned.
It just got left,
So that the woods surrounding
Either end
Might have gotten the chance to grow and flourish
Into one singular forest.

So as I lay,
Exhausted from insomnia and this cold,
I watch our trees grow so tall,
And I breathe in all the fog
And the smell of the leaves
And take in the chirping songs of the birds,
Eyeing hummingbirds and bluebirds.

So as I lay,
I surrender my anxious anticipation
For the other shoe to drop, so they say,
And find comfort, in this.
And find comfort, in us.

Humans are foolish,
Strange creatures.
It's easy to say
That we're awfully self-obsessed,
Horribly dressed
To most occasions,
And of the
Sociopathic, apathetic
Persuasion.

But what's more difficult
Is holding ourselves
To a higher standard,
Because if we hold ourselves higher
We must act better.

And it's easy to say you're going to be better,
What's hard is being better.
Doing better.

But I am of the school of thought
That people,
Human or otherwise,
Are generally good
By nature.

Our hearts our kind,
Our souls are pure,
And it isn't until events
And the choices of others
Occur
That we become so very
Vile.

And maybe we aren't a perfect species,
But we're all we've got.

So be better.
Do better.
Despite all recent failures,
And despite all upcoming failures,
There's hope for us yet.

Every time you tell me
That you love me
It means a little more
Than it did
The last time
You said it.

And I know you mean it,
So it's easy for me to say
That we're meant to be,
Like the way humans
Like the smell of gasoline
Because that's the way space smells,
Because that's the scent dying stars give off,
And it  reminds us of our past lives.
(We're all stardust, anyway.)

Winter blows through my heart
Like the way I remember the sunset
Sitting up in the trees
I never could climb on my own.

And I'm frozen,
Freezing,
Thinking back to late winter,
Early spring,
When my home was the smell of
Yellowing paper, ink stained hands,
And the taste of thunder on my lips.

Sometimes there's a sense of some kind
That strikes right through your skin
And ignites a type of fire in your bones.
Sometimes it's when it's so cold
That you feel all light receding,
And there's nothing but the memories
That tear you down.

And sometimes,
Most of the time, honestly,
I spend my days waiting
For the warmth of sunlight
That sends the fire in my bones
Into a warm frenzy,
And ignites me into
The person
I am meant to be.

Words
cannot
describe
this lost way
I feel inside.

and I cannot
explain
the source of all
this pain.

and I feel as though
you will not try
and all these smiles I'm faking
remind me of how I feel
like breaking.

I want
you to care
but persistently nagging you
over it
just isn't fair.

I have been too often
used and
broken
to allow myself
to be ignored
to allow myself
to be walked upon.

it is so hard
to be mad at you.
but I must be strong
in the face
of my love for you.
I cannot allow it
to make me weak.

I refuse to be
walked all over
and I refuse to be
taken for granted.

You lift your wings
All blue and white and silver
And you take to the air
As though there's nothing to it.

And,
While in awe
I gaze upon your feathers,
All slick with the eager urge of flight,
And some missing pieces
From flights that turned to falls.

And I glance upon my own wings,
Still somewhat fluffy and down-like,
Most of the more mature, darker feathers,
Bent and missing parts because
I've never flown before,
I've barely even had the illusion of flight like you have.

But you take to the air,
And you soar.
And I gape at the sunlight bouncing off the various shades
Of blue.

There's the icy aqua
And the deep sapphires,
Along with the midnight, almost black.
And my favorite, the bright seafoam turquoise,
And the darker teal that looks emerald if you stare at it just right.

And don't even get me started
On the  contrast of the silver
And the white
Streamlining against the pleasant blues
That fill my heart with calm.

I watch as you spiral, and hover, and dive
And then pull yourself back up and into the air
Waiting for me to join you.
And once I did, I wobbled and I shook and I was terrified
To jump off that cliff,
But here I am,
Soaring, flying,
Right here beside you,
Holding my own fairly well.

And even still, after years of being in awe
Of the memory of your feathers,
I am even more in awe and filled with love
For the way you fly with me.

I can't blame you,
Really.
You're bound by blood and guilt,
Guilt and blood.
You'd be better off
Without the xanax though.
You'd be better off
If you didn't smell like a decaying skunk.
But you wouldn't know right from wrong
The way you know right from left
When it comes to the haze you fall into
When all that high
And all that guilt
And all that blood
Comes into play.

And as for blue-tipped skinks,
Who like to pretend they're dragons,
Well, you might be garden variety
But the advice you gave unto me
To help a mangled capricorn
Ended up helping me
And now I'm so much better
Than I was.

I couldn't thank you enough,
The way you asked me how I was
Less than two months after
Everything imploded.
You only did what you thought was best,
And I will always understand that,
Even if it never landed in my, at the time, favor.

And as for weasels
Who have the tongues of snakes,
You did what you did for your own amusement
And you did what you did to stir up trouble
Because you thrive on chaos.
But your chaos forced me away
Forced me out
And into the arms
Of someone I've known and loved
For much longer than I've even flightily cared for you.

And I'm grateful.
Though it hurt,
So does all growth.
You were a growing pain,
And I have grown
Far beyond
My need for you.

I grateful to bats
And skinks
and even snake tongued weasels.

And I always will be.

There's no right way
To communicate,
Is what you told me.

I told you there's a plethora
Of wrong ways.

You told me
That you can't love someone
If you see their flaws,
Essentially that's what you said.

I explained that that's not what love is.

To this day I worry and care for you,
To this day I think about what I could have said
To make you stay.

But that's the thing,
Friends can break your heart too.

And ****,
Did you stomp all over mine,
Right?

The hypocrisy of it all,
I cover it with bitterness
And insults,
Because I can't understand,
I won't understand
The hypocrite you've become.

I refuse to acknowledge
That at one point
Maybe you did care
Maybe you were good.

I'm stubborn,
You know.
And horribly vindictive.

I will never be
Given vast displays of affection.
I will never make that kind of connection.
I will only ever be me,
My own worst enemy.
I will always come face to face with my own pale complexion,
Never reaching perfection,
In fear of this self-inflicted constant rejection.
Some kind of hell I've made, constructed so carefully.

And haven't you heard?
Just like always,
I have broken wings,
And I'm just a little bird,
In search of steadfast praise,
To heal my threadbare heartstrings.

I wonder if you even know
The way I yearn to be yours,
To be wholly yours,
Not just legally so.

I wonder if you know
The way I long to be shown
That you feel the same way for me.

I don't take
Hints very well.

I'm smart,
But I doubt myself
Much too often.

And I feel as though
You are the light that burns within
My heart,
And you are the hope I've held close to me
For so very long.

And if there's anything I've had
Since I was young
It's been the hope that pushes me forward,
It's been the hope that reminds me
To "Get up and Walk!"

If you were to know
Of all the love I have for you
I think maybe you'd understand
Why I get so misty-eyed
So often.

Foggy navy skies
And purple and pink clouds
Gleam and glow,
And we wait and we wait
Waiting for snow.

I find light in the gentle
Falling of fluffy wads of snowflakes,
Softly caressing the earth.
And the grass freezing
With the morning dew,
There is a type of comfort
In the slow destruction.

Slow and calm,
Freezing winds rush through the air,
And the harsh drought upon my skin
Gives way to the slow destruction
That winter brings.

But if I must be destroyed
But gentle cold
Compared to stinging heat,
Then watching the snow drift
Down from the heavens
Isn't the worst way
To be reborn.

Bruises and scars
May wound my flesh,
But words destroy me.

And maybe it's not words,
But the lacking of them,
And the lacking of inflection
Or enthusiasm.

It's funny how
Words and injuries hurt,
But the things that destroy you most
Aren't even there.

You know how they say
That if you pinch yourself
And it doesn't hurt
That you're dreaming?

Well I think
The same thing goes for love.
We get angry and hurt
Because we feel so deeply,
And we're so vulnerable
So it's easier for things
To scrape at the raw parts of us.

Not to say
That being angry
And being hurt
Should be common.
Just to say
Love makes people
More reactive.

I get hurt because I feel like
You don't let me in.
And I get hurt
Because sometimes it feels like
You don't care
Or don't pay attention.

And it's alright,
It's okay.
I'll be fine,
Anyway.

But I know you care,
I know you wouldn't lie to me about that.

But within my dreams
You leave me
Because I don't stir a fire in your heart,
And I don't feel like home to you.

I pray to the God you don't believe in
That all of that isn't true.

No, I don't think
I have a smile
people are addicted to seeing,
and no,
I don't think
I'm your dream girl,
and no, I don't think
you'd get stuck on me.

but I do think
I'm worth your time,
and yes, I do think
I can brighten your day.
and while I have a tendency
to fall into insecure patterns,
I do happen to think
that I don't have to be pretty like them.
I can be beautiful
like me.

and I'm not the best,
but if anything,
I am beautiful like the stars.
dangerous if you edge too close,
scarred in a sense,
but whole entirely, even still.
I am strong,
lovely,
and ethereal.

I am worth every second
of the attention I so desire,
of the affection I so desire.

I am bright,
I am good,
I am sweet and kind,
and I am stronger
than I am given credit for.

Manic Depression means a lot of things.
It means when I'm up, I'm way up.
It means when I'm down, I'm way, way down.

My PTSD makes me *** repulsed,
And my manic depression gives me an excess desire for ***,
And my demisexuality makes me only want that
With you.

With manic depression,
There's lots of unwanted thoughts,
And destruction on my self esteem,
And a false sense of superiority all at once.

And my generalized anxiety disorder
Makes me hyper-vigilant,
And repeatedly going over unwanted thoughts.

And my major depression,
It makes me lose my appetite,
It causes slowness in my activity,
Y'know,
All that usual exhaustion.

But I guess the thing is,
If I can pick myself back up
From complex PTSD and the other plethora of things,
I guess I'll be okay.

It can be difficult, but it's the best I can do.

I can only be the best I can be,
And I'm still working on that.

"You're not a good person just because you pity-fck the sick girl.

That's a quote from a movie where Anne Hathaway plays a young woman with bipolar disorder. It's a love story, apparently.

I've never seen it.

But at one point, I too would have been just as bitter,
Just as scornful.
And the intrusive, unwanted thoughts
That spiral in my head
Causing breakdowns
Try to get me to be that way again.

I just wish you understood,
I can't always control what I think,
And my mind likes to hold me and my common sense captive,
So that way it can convince me that everything you say
Is a lie.

But I know it's not,
And while at one point
I would have been so bitter
As to say something similar to
"You're not a good person just because you pity-f*ck the sick girl!"

I know that's not how it is,
That it's just a delusion
Caused by dysphoria
That the other character
Is a good person,
And maybe he does love her.

Because,
As frustrating as people like us are,
We love so much,
And feel so deeply,
That maybe the frustration we cause
Is worth it?

I'm freezing cold
And nauseous
And I'm dizzy in a not-so-dizzy
Way
And I just want to be better
But I can't
I can't
I can't.

I always fail,
And within my dreams
My greatest fears come true.

But I'm still trying
To be better
If not for me
Then for you.

And you could stand
To read up on mental illness
And mental health,
And I could stand
To not be such a *****.

The room is spinning
And my throat hurts
And I'm cold
Despite the warmth of my clothes.

I wish I could explain better
How PTSD and Manic Depression
And Generalized Anxiety Disorder work,
But I can't.
I just can't.

I'll still laugh and still smile,
But depression still eats away at me,
And doubt and self destructive behaviors
Push you away
And I'm trapped inside my head
Watching something else,
The anxiety,
Take over.

And I'm screaming and crying and slamming on the bars of my prison,
But no one can hear me,
So instead the anxiety makes me push you away,
And all logic and self-preserving behaviors are thrown out the window.
I just wish I could show you
I don't mean to do what I do
It isn't my intention to hurt you,
It's my intention to hurt me,
And I don't even want to do that.

I'm not cure,
If anything
I'm the epitome of
Nicotine.

I'm deadly and addictive,
Filled with venomous scorn
And a flaring volatile temper
When my insecurities get the best of me.

I'm too smart for my own good,
And quick-witted.
My moral compass almost always
Points north,
But being Chaotic Good,
I rely on my moral compass,
Rather than moral and orderly rights and wrongs.

Kiss me and breathe me in,
I'll blacken your lungs.
Kiss me and breathe me in,
My words will blacken your heart.

I am dangerous,
I am deadly,
How you chose me,
I'll never know.

But you've healed these
Blackened lungs,
And you've cleared up,
This blackened heart,
Just by the
Gentle care within
Your voice
And your touch.

And I can't imagine
A life without you,
So I won't
Even bother
Trying.

All I want
Is to be held
In your arms.