I dreamt that you left
not-so secret words
in not-so secret messages
where those who I made mention of
in a different verse
brought upon
such the curse.

"do you love her more?"
the wretched ***** typed to you
"hardly,"
was your cold response

and through my tears
I had screamed and cried
and yet you still
refused to deny
it.

and I know my mind plays tricks on me
because I know you love me now
more than you loved her then
but I need the reassurance
that my logic is sound.

Paying attention
to your heartbeat
and your breathing
feeling your warmth
bleed through your shirt
and onto my skin.

and I can feel myself
shivering
because warmth is leaving my body
to make room for my wanting of you
because there's so much of it constantly
coursing through me.

and if I am
to be good
and if I am
to be strong
I must come to terms
with the fact
that there will be times
where you are gone
and it will hurt
and strike fear in me
in all kinds of ways
but i will be okay,
as long as you always
come home to me.

And even in the depths
of the unknown
that I call my mind
there is a light within
that pulls through the fog
the fear
and the pain.

and there's a light in my heart
that I've tried to ***** out.
and there's a light in your eyes
that I desperately seek out.

and I hope you know
that I love you so
and the fire in your eyes
ignites my bones
and so I have found,
within your heart,
my home.

I really hope that
no matter how far the distance
between us
that my heart will always be yours
and that yours will always be mine.

I really hope that
we can always never grow up together.
and that you'll always find me
in my darkness
and that I may always find you
in yours.

I hope you know
you'll always be my person,
my light, and my Bluebird.
even if I seem lost to you,
I will forever be yours,
and no one elses.
I always have been,
and always will be.

anyone who tries to say otherwise
can ******* fight me.

Have you ever heard something that makes
your heart sink,
whether it be pain or rage or sadness?
and your heart sinks right into your stomach
and you only want to pretend you didn't hear the
name
that

makes your stomach sick
and destroys your idea
that everything is okay
and you don't need to outdo anyone
or be better
or seek some type of vengeance.

and you want to light fire
to your flesh
or light fire to them,
but you won't.

and you hate the fact
that your hatred of the past
and this person
and who they were to someone you love
is so strong.

but it's okay.
I am yours now.
now and forever.

no one else is me to you
and no one else could be you to me.
and I hope that remains
within the times
my hatred gets the best of me.

You want to travel the world,
And do things for the sake of thrill.
I crave the stability I grew up without,
And my dream is for a happy family.

I've given up on dreams of travelling far away,
I've given up on hopes of finding new places.
I've given up on aspirations to journey
And open my worldview.

I gave up those dreams,
Because I never thought I could have that,
And the kind of stability
That makes you feel safe at night,
When the flashbacks wake you up in cold sweats
And vivid smells you know aren't there.

But you're the kind of person
Who gave me an entire galaxy
When I only asked for a star.

So if you want to see the world,
And if you want to travel far and wide,
Then please remember to take my hand,
And slow your pace.
Because I want to be by your side
The entire time.

I have been searching all my life
To see if anyone can see
Beyond my facades and darkness
And rather see into it,
And find the hurt soul
Trying desperately to repair.

And I was astonished
At the fact that you
So willingly
Would see me,
And brave my shadows.
And I am so appreciative
Of the fact that you're here
To stay.

There is no greater conflict of interest
Than learning that one out of your only two consistent wants
Is no longer a want
And no longer a desire.

It destroys every preconception you've had of life.

And that's a good thing.

The only two things
I have consistently wanted through out my life,
Until now, that is,
Is either to belong,
Or to die.

It has been a little over six months
Since I began to have a thirst for life and living.
And within your arms,
I have succeeded in my goal to belong.

It's funny how some goals can be reached
With the help of others,
And other goals
Well,
They just shouldn't be reached.

I fight a constant battle
With who I used to be,
And how it compares
To the person I am now.

I was broken down in a lot of ways,
And it made me cold,
And sooner or later
That cold broke too,
And I became fearful
And shaky.

But upon carefully looking closer
At this
I've found that
I can slowly rebuild myself
Into being somewhat okay,
Even if I am a different version
Of myself.

Your eyes are composed of
Storms and galaxies.

Your voice is constructed from
The low growl of a tiger,
And the cry of a warrior.

Your mind is a monument
Of walls upon walls upon walls,
And behind those walls
I see a glimmer of light
And love
And some darkness scattered
Here and there.

Your body is structured to resemble
Gods and stars.
Your hands find me
In between warm breaths
And laughter fills the air
In lighthearted bursts of tickling.

I could steal glances at
Your eyes and the galaxies they hold within them
For all of forever.

My skin is freezing
But I can feel myself sweating
And I know I'm shivering
But I'm much too hot.

And maybe you were right,
The other night,
Maybe I'm sick.

But if I'm sick
I made myself so
Out of stress
And overthinking.

Sometimes I worry
Because you're not very blatant
Or forthcoming with your words
When you tell me you love me
Or that I'm beautiful
And sometimes I have to remember
That you say these things with
Other words and actions.

Like when you kiss me on the top of my head
When you're playing video games,
Or when you listen to me
When I ask if we can do something else,
Or when we're going outside to talk
And you suggest I put on my slippers.

Or when you hold me in the morning
Before you have to go.

And maybe it's better
That you're not as wordy as I am,
Because it makes the moments
You tell me that you love me so much
Or that my smile is beautiful
So much more
Meaningful.

I feel like you think of me
As a child.

Pat my head,
Kiss my cheek,
I'm cute sometimes
I'm funny sometimes

But I won't get what you think
I won't get what you feel.

You're proud of me occasionally,
But you won't ever lean on me,
Or let me help you.
I'm too broken myself
To help any part of you.

And I'd like to say,
That after each wall I break through
There's another and then another,
But there's only one or two I've gotten through.

Maybe I am just a little girl,
A child who's been too used
And too injured
To really get it,
But that doesn't mean I can't get it.

Though I understand the fear
Of opening up to anyone.

There was a lot of fear
When I opened up to you.
I just kind of thought,
At first,
"What do I have to lose?"

Apparently a lot.

I have a lot to lose.

Am I pretty enough?

Am I worthwhile enough?

Am I honest enough?

Am I aware enough?

Am I there enough?

Am I smart enough?

Do I cook enough?

Do I clean enough?

Am I talented enough?

Am I nice enough?

Am I assertive enough?

I know I'm not confident enough
But

Sobs wrack my body,
And I don't know if I'm good enough,
And I'm terrified
That you'll see me the way everyone else does
Broken and terrified
A shell of something that once was strong and human.

And my hands shake as I type
Backspace after backspace
Because I keep mistyping
And I keep needing to pause to breathe
Because I'm being too honest,
And God, it hurts.

I'm so scared
That you'll see me as this broken little shell
Not worth the time to mend,
And that's why maybe you don't see me as beautiful
Or strong
Or anything good,
And I guess this is just how I feel,
I have no idea what you think.

I want my opinions to be worthwhile
And I want to know if I ever make you smile,
And if you think I'm smart or funny,
Or if I make things easier or better,
Or if I'm just a burden you have to carry now.

Stop.
Breathe.
Wipe the tears away.
Breathe.

Digging my nails
Into the flesh of my
Chest
Only to rip open my rib cage
And hope for the
Best.

There's a heart
I'm trying to show to
You
Because it's slowly healing,
And I was wondering if you could love it
Too.

My eye is swollen
From allergies but I can't look at it in the
Mirror
Because it reminds me of the black eyes I had
And if I don't look at it I can think
Clearer.

Today isn't the best day
I feel a lot like a
Failure.
My self esteem that I've built up
Is slowly depleting and I wish you could be my
Savior.

But I'm in this
Alone
And this battle is my
Own.

Blood drips from my open rib
Cage
I am waiting for you to sew me back up,
Despite my fear and all its' false
Rage.

I feel that you are up to the
Task
But in case you are not,
I should probably just
Ask.

If I focus beyond the noise
Upon your voice,
I am reminded of the thrum
Of your heartbeat,

And if I feel shaky
I know your arms are the safest place for me.
And If I feel scared,
I know your gaze will somehow find me.

And even in the darkest parts of my mind
Which enjoy acting out
As we near joyous times of the year,
I know for a fact that you love me,
Whether it only be for now
Or for eternity.

I hope a day never comes
In which I cannot find comfort
In your love,
Or in which you no longer
Have love to give me,
For I will always have love
That is yours and yours alone.

Can't think
If I think I'll think too much
Can't speak
I have nothing worthwhile to say.

Think before you speak
I've always taken that to heart
Be careful what you seek,
It may just tear you apart.

Thinking too much,
Will be the death of me.

It already
Almost was,
A few years back.

I'm much stronger now,
Much braver now
Than I was then.

Before I was apathetic,
And reckless.
I didn't care
If I lived
Or if I died
It didn't matter,
And I put myself in a plethora
Of dangerous situations
I narrowly escaped,
And I had only escaped
Because something in me
Made me think on my feet.

And I wonder if you would have
Understood
Or thought less of me.

I was a different person,
And after I lost that innocence
Or the only part of me that people care
If it's innocent or not
I began to not care
What really happened to me
And that was more dangerous
Than anything else.

A lot happened to me
That I had no control over,
That I had been forced into
Or worse, it had been forced upon me,

But there were other things I chose
That ended up being dangerous
And other things I did
That I'm lucky I got through
Without breaking entirely.

Most of these things
I did for people
Who threw me away.

And that's okay.
I don't need them.
Never really did,
When I stop to think about it.

But it hurts to think
They thought I needed them.

And I wonder if any part of you would have cared
About the sad goth girl,
Who used to walk with a doll in her arms,
Insisting to be called "Blood,"
And would lash out at those
Who dare harm anyone
She cared for.

Not much has changed,
I'm not sad anymore though,
And I'm not goth.
I prefer the names you call me,
Whether it be my own or something else,
And I'd still lash out though,
If someone tried to harm you.

Whatever.
Thinking too much.

Anxious breathing
Would devour me whole
If it weren't for my unwillingness to be a burden.

I breathe in and I count
And then I lose track because I'm dizzy.

Waiting for time to pass,
Distracting myself via baking cookies.

I can't even begin
To articulate
Why I feel this way.

That you'll find something better--
That this isn't so permanent to you.
That you don't think we're meant to be
The way I do.

And it shouldn't bother me
But it rubs me the wrong way
Because I can't read you
The way I read others.

Other people are obvious,
They think they're hard to read,
And because of their colors,
They aren't.

But I see your colors
And I can't tell what they mean
Because there's so many of them,
And they don't move in the same way,
And you try to hard to be level and steady
That rarely does anything slip out from your carefully constructed walls and gates and fences.

And usually people are trying to break me down,
Figure out what I'm all about,
And the change is nice,
Even if it's challenging.

Sometimes I feel like I don't really know you,
Like there are parts of you I'm not aware of,
And some days
I feel like I know every inch of you,
Inside and out,
And that I always have,
And was always meant to.

Today I'm not sure,
Anxiety and intrusive thoughts are devouring me whole.

And my fears rip the flesh from my bones,
And maybe I'm just insecure,
Or scared, I'm a coward after all,
But I know you know
I'm not going anywhere.

And I hope you know
I hope you understand
When I say some things aren't options,
I mean it.

This is it, and I don't know
If you really thought it would be this final,
But I knew,
And while it scared me,
I was so very ready,
And I'm just afraid
You don't quite understand that.

Maybe you do,
How would I know?

I never claimed to be a mind reader.

Loving you is like finally be safe and warm
After a snow storm.

Loving you is like the relief of being able to see
After an ocular migraine.

Loving you is the comfort of the thrum of a safe heartbeat
After too much sensory input.

Loving you is like when the clouds drift from the sky
After the rain finally stops.

Loving you is like realizing you were really just hungry,
And not really all that angry at all
And the laughter that follows.

Loving you is like crunching autumn leaves
And the excitement of fall.

Loving you is being able to breathe
After a night terror.

Loving you is seeing my favorite flowers
Beginning to blossom in very early spring or the warmer parts of winter,
And bouncing with warm satisfaction.

Loving you is knowing that anything you give to me
Is wonderful and beautiful and I am always more than honored to have it to hold.

Loving you is finally being home
After years of not recognizing myself.

Loving you is being the best I can be.

In my dreams
I'm haunted by my mistakes
And what I have done
Or what has been done to me.

I am haunted by your voice,
Coming to me and telling me
That you worry and you're scared.
And it confuses me,
Because I know you know
That's not how I work.

I am haunted by vivid memories
Of storms and shades of vicious purple and grey.

I am haunted by gore
And people being burned.
Things I have no reason
To feel as though they are real.

And yet even in my dreams
I can feel the aching and stinging
Heat of the flames.

I keep seeing things
Quotes
About how you should be with someone
Who is terrified to lose you.

And maybe it's right.

But if you think I'm going anywhere,
Or letting you go anywhere,
You can ******* fight me,
And **** it, I'll win.

I'm just angry,
I'm just sad,
I'll get over it.

But I am yours,
And you are mine.

And nothing will change that.

Try to breathe,
Try to get oxygen to your lungs,
Try to breathe.

Slightly angry,
Slightly fed up,
Do I address it,
Or do I let it go?

I'd love to let it go,
But I'm here to try.
I'm here to be honest.

I need to know what you think,
If you find me beautiful or weak,
If you'd rather I stay
Or rather I go.
I'm sorry, I just need to know.

I'm sorry I'm cold,
I'm sorry I'm mad,
But I feel distant and
It's driving me crazy.

What am I supposed to do
When you're so far away
And I'm just here.

I feel like Ariel,
I have no voice right now,
And instead of true love's kiss bringing it back,
It's true love's acknowledgment.

I'm a beast,
And I'll remain a beast
Until the petals wilt off the rose
And I fall into dust and ashes,
Or until you acknowledge me.

I'm cold
And I'm not feeling great,
And sometimes I wonder if you
Can see me.

But thank you for giving me
A very good day.
And thank you for being mine,
Thank you for loving me,
And thank you for being gentle and kind.

I'm not always perfect,
And I'm not quite always sane,
But I love you
And I'm glad you love me.

Though sometimes I worry,
If you see me as more beautiful,
Or more good,
Or more kind
Or if you don't.

And I'm filled with these anxieties,
That I'm not quite sure how to handle,
So I sit and I worry and I fret,
That I'm not quite the best,
No, not yet.

But thank you for seeing
Anything in me at all.
I'm not the best,
But I'm trying.

I ask if you believe
That things happen for a reason,
If people are meant to be in each others lives
Because I'm afraid
This isn't as special to you
As it is to me.

Because everyone leaves when they're tired of me,
And I'm not saying you'll leave,
I trust that even if you don't believe in soulmates,
Or fate,
Or "Meant-to-be",
You'll make the conscience choice to stay.

I've never had any control over my life,
Over anything
At all,
And when so many bad things happen,
I have to think they have to happen for a reason.

I think there's still conscience choice
And individual will power
And decisions,
But there has to be a reason.

Maybe I ask "why?" too much,
But those "Why?"'s give me answers
And some type of way to be content
With life.

I believe that there are people
That are meant to be in your life,
Some type of soulmate philosophy.

And I believe that you're meant to be mine,
Because some things are written,
It's all about whether or not
We know what path we're choosing,
Because I'm not going to say there's only one
That's laid out before us.

Pain is a dangerous thing to be felt.

Hurt is a dangerous thing to be.

I hate being this way.
Bleeding over and over and over
For someone else's wound.
Someone else's pain.
An empathetic heart,
Feeling the hurt of those around me
Unwillingly
Unwarranted.

Internalizing
My pain
And yours.

And I'm stuck
Trying to sort out
Whose pain is whose
And what pain is mine.
And I'm shaking and cold
Because I can feel something
And it isn't mine
But the colors from it are much too familiar.

My mother always said
My empathy makes me a good person,
But I hate it.
I hurt too much.
My hear bleeds too much.
I cry too much,
Because it gets overwhelming.

Have you ever met a person who loves and feels too much?
I haven't, but I am one.
It's dangerous and annoying.
We get attached. We get angry at those who hurt you.
We become relentless in our quests to set things right.

Sometimes I feel like
My heart is going to bleed out,
And everything is
Red and violet and black.

Pain is a dangerous thing to be felt.

Hurt is a dangerous thing to be.

"So.."

I look up from my book, and sigh.

Here it comes.

"What are you?"

"O positive."
I sigh out,
And look back down at my book,
Begrudgingly.

That could have been a comment on my clothes--
Mostly black. No real intention for anything, but it always gives off the wrong impression.

It could have been my complexion,
My features.
My parents have always told me
I don't look quite entirely white
Even though I am.
My eyes and hair are too dark,
My skin too olive.

Most people mistake me for having
Some type of Asian in me.
I don't,
But that's everyone's first conclusion.
The next is
"What type of white?"
If I answer their question honestly.
"The pasty kind."
I get irritated and grit my teeth.
They ask, "Are you some type of middle eastern?"

"No," I roll my eyes. "Irish and Sicilian."

A Princess Bride joke
Or a joke about the potato famine.

"Yeah, haha, whatever."
Forced laughter,
Fake cutesy smile.

"So,"

They always start in.

I've learned to grin and bear it.

Thank God I know my blood type.

It's easy to hate people
For things you don't understand.
I know.
I've been on both ends.

And the funny thing
About people hating other people,
Is that we're really not that different.

I mean, according to recent studies,
Race doesn't even biologically exist.

And most religions look and act the same,
In some way, shape, or form.

Almost every one has started some type of war,
Though it was truly based upon greed and power.

Humans have a strange thirst for power,
I've never really understood it.

I've hated my fair share
Of humans.
Granted, most of them were violent ******.

Granted, so am I.

Though I am violent in the vindictive, spiteful sense.
No better, really.
A false sense of righteousness
Because I believe I can cast judgment upon those who have sinned,
While ignoring my sins.

You have no reason to judge another,
For you are not clean of sin.

Now,
I'd get off my high horse,
If the ground wasn't so *****
And full of hate.
It makes my stomach weak,
Too much dark.
Not enough light.

Of course,
If all were well,
I'd think there were too much light,
Not enough dark.

There needs to be a balance,
But the balance is too dark.

I wonder how you can't see it,
How you can force yourself into denial
And live in your little fantasy world
Where all is good, and all is this, and all is that.

I'd like to think it's because you haven't seen what I've seen,
But you have.

But you do know.

And that scares me.

So keep hating this,
But not that.
Keep hating that,
But not this.

You can't make excuses,
When you hate all around the board.

Be careful who you hate,
It might be someone you love.

You'll never know
How hard I tried
To be good and perfect
On the in-and-outside.

I choose to be this way,
This soft spoken with good intentions,
Because my flame has died out,
And does not ignite at its' own mention.

You'll never know
How many fights
My temper and flare
Have gotten my into.

How many bruises I can take the blame for,
How much skin torn like tissue paper
That's been on my body,
That the guilt for is mine and mine only.

I have learned to be
And chosen to be submissive,
As after awhile
Getting bloodied and bruised
Consistently gets a little tiring.

My bold statements
And harsh tones
Cause only pain
And pain alone.

I hope one day
You never see my fire,
Or taste the ash
From my ire.

Maybe I'm much too plain,
And maybe I'm much too ordinary,
But I can spin tales and
Write soliloquies.

I can paint a new world
With figurative language and imagery.

And some days I don't have much self worth,
Today I'm struggling a lot.
I'd like to think I was some type of
Ethereal vision,
Breath taking and otherworldly,
But I'm not.

I dunno.

Maybe I could be.

Maybe one day you'll see me that way.

But I'm really good
At making comfort food
And cuddling
And deep conversations
And consoling other people
And compliments
And finding cute pictures and videos
And using slang that isn't from this decade,
Like all that jazz, cool your jets, and rad.

Maybe I'm not so bad,
I just hope you can try to find
Some type of good within my mind
Tonight.

I don't have much to offer,
I'm not the brightest in comparison,
And I'm not the best
At really anything.

So let me offer to you
A few poems I wracked my brain for,
And some pictures I think I made
Look a little nicer.

I know it's not much,
But it's really all I have.
I'd offer you my heart,
But you took that already.

I hope you don't mind,
It's really not much,
But these words
And pictures
They're really all I have.

Take them with ease,
Please,
And take them with care.

I need to be treated gently,
for I am somewhat fragile.

I need to be given attention,
and treated as more than a doormat.

I need to be made comfortable enough to speak,
so I know that having opinions is safe,
because it isn't always, I would know.

I need to be shown affection,
otherwise I get ornery.

but i realize that it's pointless.
I am a blur,
both here and not here.
you are the best parts of me
and more
and therefore
forever out of reach
because you hold so much back from me,
all the bad,
but most of the good too.

Keep your eyes closed
bite back tears.
you don't need the attention,
you don't need the affection.
get over it.

be kind
and respectful
keep your head down
try not to flinch
when things get too loud.

don't tear up
and don't cry
don't make it obvious
if you do.

you're worried and you're scared
but there's no need to fret.

cook, clean, who cares for praise
or acknowledgment?

be nice and respectful and small.

you have no voice to be used, yet.

choose to be obedient and submissive because your fire starts too many confrontations.

bite back tears, anger, words.
bite back your defiant voice.

no need to start up, yet.

Red,
Like the sunset.
Orange,
Like the clouds.

Green,
Like seafoam.
Blue,
Like the sea.

Cold,
Because you're guarded.
Warm,
Because you choose to be.

Cheeks flushing pink or red or burgundy,
Shock of a ginger touch on raw hearts,
Fear of being left, fear of leaving.

Stupid fights,
Stupid hurt.
Resolve quickly,
Softly.
No yelling,
No accusations.

Leaving me dumbfounded
At things being handled
Lovingly
Calmly
Gently.

How damaged must I be
To think this kindness is strange?

I have bruises
On the inside
That grow to the outside.
I have bruises on my heart,
That grow inside my mind.

I have bruises
On my thighs
And scratches
On my shins.

All these things
From dreams I can't unsee.

I dreamnt that I couldn't save any of them,
Because I didn't.
And I woke up in your arms,
Feeling guilty,
And afraid of myself.

Nothing feels real,
And that's my fault.

I could list off the reasons why you shouldn't love me,
But I know that you do,
And who am I to change your mind?

And I guess it all reminds me,

I've got running away running through my veins,
But I'd like nothing more than to stay.

So stay I will.

Your heart,
Golden like my intentions.
Your voice,
Soft orange and inviting blue cascading through me like warmth I've never felt,
Safety I've never known.

Your hands trail my body,
Warm and somewhat calloused,
Tickling me softly,
Enough to force laughter out
But not quite enough to cause pain.

And kissing my lips,
My cheeks,
My face,
Flooding me with sensations
Of overwhelming love and kindness.

And I am content,
And I am happy,
And everything is well,
For the first time
In a very long time.

Sitting in a pew,
Thinking of my nightmares of you.
Kneeling to pray,
But no God will save me today.

I sit in the confessional,
But what can I confess to these halls?
Bloodied traces and
Tear stained faces,

I was thirteen when I threw up blood for the first time,
And I was turning nineteen the last time,
And humans are filled with bad intentions,
We sin in order to ignore all that our hearts mention,

Like you're only doing this for the thrill,
Or who would it ****?
You.
It destroys you.

We make excuses
To validate our uses,
Of people or words or things,
And this judgment is all that I can bring.

I'll let you in on a secret,
Let's hope you can keep it.
I never feel better after confession,
Maybe I'm too guilty for my good intentions.

My skin is like ice,
And your touch is fire.
And you've melted me,
Melting me,
Into something I don't recognize.
No more walls, no more hiding,
No more being afraid.
Ever so slowly getting comfortable
With being loved.

Your heart is ice,
There's warmth close, beneath the surface.
But you don't speak to what your mind thinks,
You don't speak of the fire in your eyes,
Or the storm within your chest.
But I see it,
And I know it,
Because I feel that fire in your gaze
And it bleeds into me through every kiss,
And I know that storm fairly well,
It guides me back to your arms
When I feel wayward and scared.

And your voice is level and steady,
An array of soft orange at its' most anxious,
But cool blue and green at its' most loving and calm,
And I've grown so used to that
That when it's not,
Whether it be jokingly so or otherwise,
I grow concerned due to the intentions of others before you.

I'm freezing, honestly,
But I know when you're home,
I have a fire to look forward to.

I fall easily for knowledge,
For interesting facts,
And peculiar information.
Things that most people
Don't know,
Which leads me to not knowing
Things that most people
Do know.

I had a little cousin
Who used to think I made it rain
When I was sad or angry.
And she used to be absolutely livid with me
When it rained.

There were points in time,
Where I was such a mess,
And the rain was so unrelenting,
That some small, childish part of me
Partially believed her.
But maybe that was my
Ability to take guilt from anything.

People used to say
That I have a chip on my shoulder,
That I have rain clouds
trailing behind me.

It used to be,
That if you wanted to find me,
I could be found on the front porch
Of my foster parents home,
Sitting in one of the rocking chairs
That used to out there,
Listening to the rain,
Watching the storms,
Reading T.S. Eliot or Edgar Allen Poe,
Or something.

That was before.

Now hearing the rain makes me flinch
And I can't watch it,
And I can't let myself focus on it,
But if it's the only thing to focus on
That's all I hear and I'm stuck in the past.

Now if you want to find me,
I don't know where to point you to.
I'm relearning myself.
Damage and all.

You stole my heart.
You had a grasp on it a long time ago,
I'm sure you were familiar with parts of it,
Even though now it's scarred up and bruised
And has a few pieces that don't fit quite right anymore.

You stole my heart,
Within a smile and a laugh,
And I was pretty sure you took it
That Saturday when I asked for a hug,
And you gladly obliged,
Because when I walked back to my parent's condo,
I was walking on air,
My head was so far up in the clouds
That I swear I could see the stars
That made up your favorite constellation.

You stole my heart,
Upon glances you thought were stolen
By the fire,
And warmth and kindness within your voice,
And understanding from your tone
Melting down my walls and my fear.

You stole my heart,
When you taught me how to play chess,
And I ultimately failed,
But I revealed that I cared this way,
That same night.

You still stole my heart,
When you held me,
Touching my hands,
My shoulders,
My sides,
When I was afraid of your touch not by fault of your own,
But not afraid of you.
When you reminded me that you're here to stay,
That you're not them,
That you won't hurt me like that,
That you won't hurt me at all.

You stole my heart,
By making me laugh,
By understanding my tears,
By being honest
And caring
And careful.

You stole my heart,
So I took your last name.

I can't really listen to that band anymore,
But that's okay.

With hearts of gold,
Comes the idea to always do right,
Or to at least always try.
And it leaves me too smart for my own good,
As he told me many times.

I am golden,
Like the sun,
Like the stars,
Like the light that could guide you home,
If you ever wanted it to.

But some people prefer silver,
And that's cool too.

I don't have to be the best
In the eyes of anyone
Besides
My Bluebird.

And to him I'm much more than gold,
Much more than a prize.
I'm his Hummingbird,
And that's worth more than any value
Any metal
Could ever have.

(Understand my intentions,
These are not my confessions.
Trust, though, that I've done my wrongs,
That's it. So long.)

Freezing cold because I deserve it,
That's why I reject things like warmth
Or sweatshirts
Or hugs
When I'm sad and shivering.

I didn't want to tell you why,
Then and there,
When I already seemed so broken to you,
So wounded,
So damaged.

So hurt.

I don't want to burden you with that.
I have trouble letting myself be comfortable,
Because I think I don't deserve it, it makes me a problem.

Recently I've only wanted to sleep.
Change takes a lot out of me.
But I spend my days wide awake,
Because I can't get comfortable enough
Until I know you should be home,
And then I just want to be in your arms.

Your eyes take my breath away,
And I don't feel like catching it.

I've read that
The opposite of two
Is "a lonely me, a lonely you."

I'm freezing cold,
Bundled in blankets that can't keep me warm
The way you do.

And I'm not sure
If I'm fire
Or if I'm ice,

All I know is that
Being in your arms
Is really nice.

I'm not entirely sure
If I'm lost
Or if I'm found,

But flying with you
Is so much better
Than being on the ground.

Missing you
Is like having a headache that's almost gone.
It still hurts a whole lot,
But you're so close to relief
That it's driving you insane,
And probably perpetuating the headache more.

And loving you
Is like finally being able to breathe.
Loving you
Is like coming in from standing out
In a blizzard half naked,
And being wrapped in blankets and warmth.
Loving you
Is feeling safe
After years of being afraid.

And missing you
Is like the inability to sleep
After being awake for more than twenty four hours.

It's waking up from a nightmare,
Panicked and afraid it might be real.

But loving you is knowing it isn't,
It's knowing it'll be better in the morning.

Knuckles white,
Bared teeth that clack together with every barked out, growled out insult.

Black eyes that show nothing but cold ferocity,
And your tears reflected in the churning, opaque surface.

Red lips, curled over teeth that are too light,
And a tongue that's too sharp.

The silver tongued flattery is gone, any sense of mercy or humanity within her words is gone.

She's throwing insults,
And they're pointed but not full of curse words.
Things like,
"Your useless daddy issues and ability to use people to give you a sense of self worth makes you even more pathetic than I previously had thought,"
Or
"How emotionally unstable and black heart'd do you have to be to lie through your teeth and attempt at wounding people worlds smarter than you are, you sick freak?"

Something else about crying wolf and worthless worms.

She analyzes people to dehumanize them.

You're sickened by her words and ability to be so cruel,
And the hot rage boiling inside her makes you feel queasy,
So you slam the door and lock it,
Locking her away.

She wasn't talking about you,
But she is you,
And that scares you more
Than you're sickened by the people she was talking about.

"What do you do with your time?"
"How do you spend your days?"
"What have you done with your life?"

I'm a writer, so really, what do you expect from me?
I've spend my days brooding and type type typing away.

Your voice and the color of your tone
Plays on repeat in my head,
And I'm stuck, stuck, stuck,
On everything I should have said.

Sometimes I'm a broken record,
And that's okay, that's kinda neat,
At least I'm a record at all,
Vinyl just won't admit defeat.

I'm glass work,
Built by wind and flame and coarse earth,
To create something so fragile and beautiful,
With colors spiraled about.

You are cold metal,
Only warm with the heat of my skin
Holding you tight.
Built from the iron of the blood from 4000 grown men,
And water and heat and other bits of science and smithing I don't quite understand.

I am air,
Soft and warm but cool in the heat of summer,
Gently kissing leaves, wind chimes, and your face in the humidity
In order to allow you to breathe again.
I am the harsh winds of a hurricane,
Destroying all in its path,
Reducing houses and homes to shrapnel and rubble and dust.
I am your first breath of fresh, cold winter air, when you cannot breathe
Because it was all too much, too much, and you're too young to really know why.
I am cold but comforting, there and real without being seen or known.
I am the whisper within the trees, from the waters, carrying smoke along my back to warn you of danger.

You are earth.
Steadfast and solid,
Stubborn and real.
Honest.
You are the rocks and stones that hold meaning and power within their pools of color and opaque surfaces.
You are the avalanche of boulders and pebbles that fall and destroy
All that so choose to come in its' path.
You are the soft soil in which you urge new life to grow,
Within soft and gentle hands, urging it forward and through the surface,
So that all may look in awe of its' beauty,
While you are wrapped tight around its roots so that you may protect
And nurture it with all that you are.

I am the color that spirals through your heart and within noise,
I am the burst of soft light that grows too large, too bright, too quickly,
And I am simultaneously too much and not enough.

And you are soft and stark shades of gray and black,
Pooling in to balance the colors that I have poured everywhere,
Adding definition and understanding
Of why they are what they are,
You are just in time and you are just right.

Thoughts of you are warm and lulling me to sleep.
Thoughts of me are dizzying and overpowering.

There's not much to what I have to say,
It could be said softly,
"I love you,"
Or loudly,
"My love for you is vastly infinite, more so than the universe, and more so than the expanse of the mind."

Your voice and the color of your tone
Plays on repeat in my head,
And I'm stuck, stuck, stuck,
On everything I should have said.

I say "Fight me," too much,
For someone who flinches at loud noises
Or motions that are too quick
Or too close to my face.

I'm much too confident in my abilities
To withstand things,
For someone who breaks into tears
At truths that are too true.

I'm much too whole
For a person made of scars.

And sometimes I'm astonished,
That not all of them show through my skin
All the time.

I was once told that
It's the journey you have to depart to arrive.

I never really quite understood.

But it's that you have to let go of the past
In order to be fully present.

I still struggle with that,
But I'm getting there.

There are scars beneath my skin
That hurt when it's too cold
Or when it rains.
They sent me into shivers,
With shaking hands and a shaking voice.

Every single time you kiss me goodbye,
Whether it was to leave for a month,
Or in recent days, to go work,
There are always things I want to say,
But I can't make the words short enough, sweet enough.

I want to kiss your lips,
And run my fingers along your back,
And tell you that you mean more than the world to me,
But more than that.
That you're my everything,
But more than that.
That you make me the happiest person alive,
But more than that.
You make me content with living,
But more than that.
That I love you more than forever, more than always,
So please stay safe and come home to me.

Because you're my home,
But more than that.

Let's be honest here,
Sometimes I don't feel good enough for you,
Sometimes I feel like an embarrassment.

There are spaces in time
Where I'm afraid I'll disappoint you,
And I'm terrified that you'll see all the parts of me
I don't want you to see
And then you'll just
Up and leave.

But you've seen my worst,
My fear and my tears,
And my sharp tongue, though never directed at you.
And if you think that's something
Worth keeping,
Then you'll have to push me into the water
If you want to jump ship.

I usually don't
Try to stick around.
Like most things, I'm fleeting.
But I'm sick of fleeing.

Usually when I fall,
I hit the ground running,
But I've yet to truly fall,
Because flying with you
Is much too nice
To stop.