How do you compare hell to hell?

when the wind is too cold,
I break down sobbing when
it slices my skin.

there are certain tones that are too loud,
too aggressive,
too sharp,
that spark fear in my heart,
make me flinch.

don't raise your hand too close to my face,
too quickly.
it's muscle memory
to duck and hide.

you'll find me asking "are you sure are you sure are you sure are you sure"
more often than I will accept
"It's okay,"
as a response.

you'll see me picking at my cuticles,
twisting my hair,
touching my ears,
adjusting my necklace,
because I have to be perfect,
at least in appearance.
I won't let there be something
to be easily preyed upon.

I am fiercely protective,
you'll see.
of you
and of effort I put into things.

I know I only have two talents-
writing and cooking of any kind.

I do not cook for just anyone.
food is love,
I will tell you constantly,
though I barely allow myself to eat.

I am getting better,
slowly but surely.
my flight pattern is lopsided,
but at least I'm in the air
with you.

it's not much,
but it's a start.

Your eyes gazing into mine
leaves me breathless,
I can't look you in the eye,
the pooling of tension and fluttering butterflies in my stomach
leaves me speechless

and if I want to hold a conversation
that's no good.

and sometimes I wonder what it's like to be sane,
but then I remember
that's a life without living, a life without pain.

I'd be stupid,
but not my brand of stupid--
I'd be exponentially stupid,
stupid to the power of stupid
if I pretended to be someone I'm not.

and that's what you'd be--
stupid to the power of stupid,
if you wished I pretended to be
anything less than I am

because I've always been too much,
that's my problem.

I'm too emotional,
too needy
too affectionate
too damaged
too this
too that
too smart for my own good.

but I'm sick and tired
of wanting to be someone else
I like who I am
I won't be anybody else.

I could be better
but a better me
not a new person all together.

your eyes leave me speechless,
your words leave me breathless
and without you my heart means less
than it did before.

I wonder what you see
when you look at me
if your heart slams into your ribcage
the way mine does sometimes when I stare at you for too long
or when you touch me unexpectedly

I wonder if when you hear my voice
your stomach bursts into small fluttering sensations
or when I hold your hand
if it feels like home.

with or without my sanity
you leave me speechless
and I'm disjointed,
just like always.

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.

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.

I could easily fake
Being socially acceptable
I could easily accept
Falling into a well-received
Stereotype.

I could be pigeon-holed.

But then I'd be a liar.

And I'll never do that.

YOU

Did this.

YOU**

Broke this.

I am nothing like
My favorite poets.

I am nothing like
Bukowski,
With his hopeful cynicism
And distaste for most things.

I am nothing like T.S. Eliot,
And his pompous pride and hatred for
All things American (though he was American by birth.)

I am not an addict like Poe,
Nor filled with satirical sass like Oscar Wilde.

I am somewhere lost within the imagery of Emily Dickens
And the love of the world around us like Frost.

Or maybe I am all
Or maybe I am none,
But either way,
The angst always wins out.

I thought about you a lot,
Those years apart.

What if I had
Opened up this blackened rib cage
And revealed a heart,
A little scarred,
A little beaten,
Would you treat it the same
As the whole, healed heart
You see on my sleeve now?

I think of sitting in the rain,
Alone on the curb of the street.
Rain was soaking through my sweatshirt,
Soaking through to chill my bones.
I think of getting home and being too tired to change out
Of my soaked through clothing, but doing it anyway.
Of ratty t-shirts and jean shorts,
Because the only warmth I wanted didn't exist.

I think of wrapping myself tightly in my blanket,
And softly sniffling until I sleep,
Fear of the nightmares
Of the blood
Of the fire
Of the guilt.

I think of when the house smelled faintly of the wood stove,
And dog fur.
And I could hear the laughter and quarrels of siblings, foster and genetic alike, below my room.

I think of screaming in the car
After some bad news,
Poorly singing (and sobbing) along to a song
I'll sing over and over and over until my voice goes out.

Think of rain
Think of snow
Think of winter and the ache in my bones
Think of how loss was all I knew
Before I knew you.

I think of the smell of burning newspaper
And I think of friends I don't talk to,
And I think of what I thought I knew
Before you.

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.

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.

You'll leave,
Just like everyone else.

I re-re-re-re-repe-repea-repeat
just like a broken record.

But, surprise.

It wasn't you.

I can't finish my coffee.
And the caffeine hasn't kicked in,
But I think the meds are starting to.

I'm barely hungry.
Well, right now I'm not even a little bit.

I know I don't exude confidence,
But I'll get there, I promise.
I am sure of my abilities,
My intelligence (sometimes)
And my determination.

I am sure that I am good, and kind, and forgiving.

I just need to work on liking my outside self.

I'm getting there. I promise.

I'm going to pour the coffee down the drain,
And introspect for an hour or two.

Maybe I'll come to an epiphany
That I'm not entirely terrible,
And that I am enough, if not more than.

If you had waited for me
Just a little longer
These angelic wings
Could have
Been yours
Too.

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.

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 brighten your day
With a laugh,
With a smile.
I want to take everything away,
And only let you have what's good and filled with light,

And I'm so sorry,
Because I can't do that.

But I can dream of holding your hand,
And I can remind you of how much I love you.
And I can build, slowly but surely, upon this foundation.
I can go "Aroooo" and be your little coyote,
Hoping to make you smile.

I can put the teal container I keep my headphones in
On top of my head,
And grin while you laugh
At my poorly done monkey noises,
Because the first thing that came to your head
Was that I was impersonating Abu from Aladdin.

I can whisper that I love you, Bluebird,
And hope that across a sky so blue,
You'll hear me.

I can promise that I'll run my hands through your hair,
When  you come home.
That I'll kiss your face,
And scratch your back.

I love you,
And I want to do
All I can
To make this a better day
For you
But I can't
Do everything I want to.

If I could,
I'd cross the distance,
I'd come find you,
I'd come love you.

The distance might be grand,
But know I'll never love you from a distance.
You are always within my heart,
And I love you so.

You all always need someone
To blame.
So cut me open
And observe my flaws
Again.

Pick the one
That loosely suits your
Fancy.
All this waiting for the other shoe to drop
Is making me
Antsy.

Light up
The fire,
And toss me inside,
Because I'm just getting
So tired.

But I have these visions,
I have these dreams,
Where everything is okay
And I just don't know
What they mean?

Gather in a circle
And cast your stones,
But know that each sin you accuse
Is your own.

"I go to type the URL of this site into the search-bar-typey thing (I'm so great with words.), and I type hope instead, and stare at if for a second trying not to laugh."

You asked today how many poems you'll come back to,
When you finally reach home,
Where you probably won't reach until midnight,
And I hope to God you drive safely,
And that other drivers aren't idiots.

And I'm sitting here,
And you don't know this,
But I'm scared.
Because you don't know
Exactly how many years I've laid in bed,
Bandaged hands/wrists/arms,
Regretting things beyond my control,
Myself when I was beyond my control,
Wishing someone had been there
To calm me down before I very literally
Lost my head (or more of left my head).

Wishing someone could have stayed,
'Cause when you start bleeding out at nine years old,
And coming to and having to figure out that
Meat tenderizer and coriander gets blood off shirts, carpet, and sheets.
Otherwise you need to wear red or black.
And the one person you want to tell you can't tell,
Because at ten years old you still don't know how or why it happens.

And it hit me hard today
At ******* Barrel.
When we sat outside and you touched my scars.
Because in a way you were touching a part of me
No one else has had the unfortunate circumstances
To come up upon
Besides myself.

The part of me that knew all along
That all of that sickening regret that would
Sit like a blade in my stomach,
Sinking and twisting,
Was because my scars would hurt someone else
Who never deserved to be hurt at all.

And for all my talk,
I'd never hurt anyone
Without a reason.
So to think that maybe
My scars,
Or the fact that I got that bad,
Has somehow made you feel
In a way that is painful
Or fearful
Or something,
It makes me want to *****.

This isn't self hatred.
I wasn't there.
I can't control myself if I'm not there to control myself.
I had a reason.
I was fifteen when the worst scar happened,
And very early in the year of being twenty when the worst wound happened.

Maybe I feel too much guilt.
Maybe I apologize too much.
Maybe I'm too afraid of giving in to this feeling of you and me, and us.
Maybe I'm not proper,
And I don't know how to explain myself correctly
And articulate myself very well,
But this is who I am right now.

As Soupy Campbell from the Wonder Years once said:
"I'm getting better, but it's in small steps."

And I'm so much better.
I don't think you understand.
Who I used to be
Is someone I hope you never encounter.

The tears,
The rage,
The pain.

I never want you to see me that way.

And while I do care
If you like my parents
Or if they like you,
I want you to know
I've been doing this whole life thing
Mostly on my own
For a very long time.
Support systems don't really happen for me.

It's not like being alone scares me,
It's letting someone in
So entirely
That terrifies me.

And yet it's happening anyway.

And it all began
with a childish glance
a type of mattering
a sense of silly faces
and caring
and playing
and able to find a balance
between the properness of age
and the fun of not acting like it.

and then it begins again
with wide open conversations
and sorting out feelings
and nervous but giddy meetings
and realizations upon handshakes and hugs,
and falling into you
the way I fell for you,
consciously, consensually, and close to immediately.

to begin the beginning
happens slowly,
and then all at once.

like the process of becoming real,
or falling in love.

and maybe that's because that's exactly what it is.

to begin again
is to become real
and to fall in love
all together.

I could hold up the world
With a single phrase.
I could stop it from spinning,
With a single action,
But what would be the point
Of halting something so tragically beautiful?

And no,
Maybe you're better off without me.
But I'm sure not
Better off without you.
And maybe that's a little selfish,
But when have I been any different?

She said a thousand times,
Or at least it rung a thousand ways,
I only care about myself.
And while I know that's not true,
If that's how she sees me,
Then hell, maybe I'll paint a better image.

But I'm not chasing anyone
Ever again.
Not her,
Not anyone.

And it's pouring rain,
And I'm remembering things
That it's probably bad for me to think about,
And I'm freezing cold,
But I'd only want it one other way.

And maybe,
Just maybe,
I'm better off now.
You can miss someone
Without wanting them back in your life.

And maybe,
Just maybe,
I could make you dinner some night (or every night),
And we can laugh and talk until we fall asleep,
And we can live the type of life
Where you can be you,
And I can be me.

They'll still paint you black,
When you used to be golden.
So take a breath,
And live in the moment.

Their words are water,
Breaking down your levee.
And with each ugly phrase,
The pressure gets more heavy.

And I know you're feeling
Sick to your stomach.
But this is the truth,
So please don't run from it.

We'll laugh and we'll cry,
We'll love and we'll fight.
The words won't matter,
It's if we live them through life.

The way they left,
It's alright, it's alright.
I know you hate them,
But you know that I'm right.

People tend to be
Cruel and inconsistent.
But my love for you is steady,
And you know that is different.

And I know you're feeling
Sick to your stomach.
But this is the truth,
So please don't run from it.

We'll laugh and we'll cry,
We'll love and we'll fight.
The words won't matter,
It's if we live them through life.

There's lots of things
I have left to say,
But I'll fold them up
And put them away.

So patch up your levee,
And get the doubt from your brain,
We'll burn it up and
Wash the ashes in the rain.

And I know you're feeling
Sick to your stomach.
But this is the truth,
So please don't run from it.

We'll laugh and we'll cry,
We'll love and we'll fight.
The words won't matter,
It's if we live them through life.

I wonder
if you can see me
the way I see you.

I wonder if you see
all the shaking in my features
when I feign confidence
when speaking about myself.

I wonder if you hear
the honesty in my voice
when I  feel raw
and unlovable.

I wonder if you can feel
the joy and adamant passion
on my skin
when you touch me.

I wonder if you can smell
the fear in my breathing,
when I try so hard to fake being strong,
and all I do is hesitate.

I wonder if you can taste
the satisfaction and pride on my lips
when I make you smile.

I wonder if you see me
the way I see you.

i see colors and i see
all of your heart
and none of it
all at once.

i see within your eyes,
and i feel fire
but smell snow.

i wonder if,
if you were to look with your heart,
if maybe you could see me rightly.

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.

If I had to choose
Between loving you
And seeing the world,
Well I'd pray to God,
That I'd wake up blind.

Because I don't care
About the past,
And I don't care
About what people say or think,
All I care about
Is you and our future.

I've been trying to compliment you
Through rhythm and rhyme,
But I've come to the heartfelt conclusion,
That these things take time.

And I thought for so long,
I was broken and damaged,
And after being told
For so long
All the things
That are wrong,
You came along
And started putting things
Where they belong.

And I'd rather see in shades of gray,
Than lose you any day.

Humans change,
We grow
We learn.

We like to think that it's
Only us as individuals,
But it's not.

We all change,
For better or for worse,
We all grow
And we all learn.

And even if it sometimes hurts,
Changing and growing is an important part
Of being human.
When we stop changing,
When we stop growing,
When we stop learning,
We cease being alive.

I used to love crows and blackbirds,
But since loving you,
I'd rather hear a bluebird sing
Than a raven caw.

Will a significant other
Make your life better?

No.

Will a man who tells you beautiful things
Make your world brighter?

No.

But can your best friend
Love you like no one else?

Yes.

Can he light up the world
Like nothing else has ever had light before?

Yes.

Will loving yourself and him selflessly make your life better?

Yes. Yes it will.

Do not try to tell me
That humans
Do not need
Other humans.

We are pack animals
By nature.
Love is love is love.

And I love you.

And just like always
There is no equal ground,
And I'm attached
And invested
And my heart hurts
My heart yearns
And I'm curious
And bouncy
Until I learn,
There's always new flesh to be burned.

The lump in my throat
Keeps me from screaming,
And time and time again,
History will repeat itself.

Cross my heart
And I hope to live,
Because I've given
All I ever had to give.

I'm rubbing scar tissue,
Remembering days
I could have bled out.

The dizzy sensation
Of coming to,
And cursing myself
For ever thinking
I was cured.

That a promise
Could change a thing.
Well that promise
Developed into further cause.

And I hope to God,
You won't find me so odd
That you'll give up too.
I hope to God,
That you don't find this odd,
But dear lord, I miss you.

And sunshine graces the grass and pavement,
Just like when your smile graces  your features,
And I'd like to think it's me that it's meant
For.

But my glance hits the floor,
The same way I can't stand rain anymore.

Wish I may,
Wish I might,
Heavenly bodies,
Give me purpose tonight.

Wish I may,
Wish I might,
Shining stars,
Give me strength tonight.

Wish I may,
Wish I might,
What's the point
Of staying up tonight?

Wish I may,
Wish I might,
Please understand,
My tears are not a slight
At you.

Wish I may,
Wish I might,
Heavenly bodies
Do not compare to the sight
Of you.

Wish I may,
Wish I might,
I may be hurt,
But angry? Not quite.

Wish I may,
Wish I might,
Close my eyes,
Wishing to be with you tonight.

"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.

I spent all day
Crying
Or cleaning.

I know I'm technically sick,
But the guilt I feel
Doesn't want to leave my side.

I wish you were here instead.

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.

Right when I think
I might be maybe getting better,
I mess up again.

I have to be better.
Stronger.
And I need to do it now.

No more being gentle with myself,
I don't have time for patience.

I don't mean to be so afraid,
To cry so very often.

But I will stop.

I spent five years
Not showing fear or emotion,
Giving in to what punishment
He thought I deserved.

And I spent one year
Being berated and scolded
For showing any and all emotion
Besides endless appreciation.

I can manage not crying.

I can be better.

I just have to keep telling myself that.

People will find their way back
To the past.

It's whetherwhether we learn
From the trend or not.

I compare myself to the weather because
I constantly change.

But don't know
If you'd miss me
Or if you're just polite.

But i miss you
Even when you're right next to me.
Because i know better than most
That humans are fleeting,
And promises don't mean ****.

But they're still nice to hear,
I guess.

If people were shelter animals,
I would be almost feral and entirely afraid.
And you would be adopted
In a heartbeat.

But what i would give
To feel your heartbeat
Against my back
For eternity.
What i would give
For this to last.

For people
Are flighty
And fleeting.

And, needless to say,
I crave something more permanent than my own self and being.

Sometimes the light is hard to see
Behind the fog of my instinctual self-hatred,
And sometimes the light is hard to find
Behind the fog that is my mind,

But you seem to be able
To crawl and wriggle your way through
The cracks in my defenses,
Piercing the the core of the walls,
And finding a way to my heart.

And you hold a light within your palms,
And a fire in your eyes,
And I don't know where it comes from,
Yet.

But I'm willing to put forth the effort
To find out.

And I wonder if the light
Held within your palms
Is enough to warm me up and heal me
In all the ways that time hasn't been able to.

And I'm scared and I'm nervous,
You could so easily break me.

But I'm trusting
That you won't.

And when I look at the colors
That spiral and cascade around you
I wonder if you understand
I see everything you think and feel
In a lack of detail
So that I know it's there,
But I have no idea what it means.

So when you hurt,
It feels like a thousand burning knives
Piercing through my ribs and the flesh of my heart.

And I wish I could bottle
The fire in your eyes
So that way when you're far away
I have some part of you to keep me warm.

I'll just have to trust
That your promises are sound,
And that the light within your palms
Will always somehow find me
In the darkest depths
I tend to swim.

So technically
You're four hundred miles,
Give or take forty three,
Away from me,
But the distance doesn't feel so large or wide,
When I think of your smile
Or your voice
Or the things you say
Or the way you laugh.

We share the same sky,
And as someone who believes in fate,
I believe in the phrase
"One sky,
"One destiny."

I remember looking up at the stars
From my window one night
And I guess I thought,
"If we're under the same sky,
We can't be that far away."

And as the sky clears up
And I close my eyes and try
I can still feel your fingers
Laced between mine.

ANXIETY

The alarm starts to go off,
You think you know the code
But when you enter it in
The alarm gets louder.
And then you can feel it
Inside your head
Thrumming against your eardrums
It leaks into your heart
And and it's squeezing your lungs
And you can't breathe
So you begin to collapse into the fetal position,
But then it stops.
It stops and a voice asks if you're okay.
They then ask for your name and the verbal password.
You give your name, and explain that you don't have the password and why.
They disconnect
The alarm continues for what seems like an eternity,
But it's only ten minutes.

You fight with yourself
Not to start crying.

You don't go outside until your roommate gets home.

You drive to bring your husband his cellphone.
You get lost for the third time today,
And when you call the line he called you on, to tell him that you finally made it,
They say he went away, back to where he was.
You sit in the car and cry, because he could have at least told you
He could have called to tell you so you wouldn't keep getting lost.
Besides the fact that his absence is taking more of a toll on you than you thought it would,
This breaks your carefully constructed but flimsy
Front of strength.
Then you get a call.
Same number.
You answer.
It's him.
He'll be outside.
He comes to the car,
Comforts you,
Even though you can't properly explain what's wrong
Without the fear of sounding
Immature
Or
Needy
Or
Clingy
Or
Helpless.

You drive home.

You don't want to go drive again tomorrow,
But you want to see him
And you want to be there for him.
So you'll go,
But you have to wear his sweatshirt to bed,
And you have to make sure to fluff his pillow
And you have to make sure all his clothes are neat and folded.
Because if none of that happens,
You're a terrible wife
And he won't come home.

Even though he will come home,
But what if he doesn't?

The what-if's flood your brain,
And you can't stop shaking.

You cannot ban
Demonize
Villainize
A person
Or idea
Just because
You're scared of it.

People are scared
Of a whole lot
Of stupid things.

Some people are afraid
Of falling in love.
Others are afraid
Of commitment
And knowledge
And change.

I am afraid,
For example,
Of the dark
And of the unknown.

That might have been redundant.

But I like plans.
And back up plans.
And back up plans for my back up plans.
My constant questioning and curiosity
Has turned into a vicious cycle of
"What if"
And doubting myself
And everyone I know.

I have recently become reacquainted
With someone I have never doubted,
And I still have yet to doubt him.
I hope that day never happens.

It's strange,
The only bad feelings I have
Are if I have offended him
Or are caused by my own trauma.

I'm not trying to say he's perfect,
Because no one is perfect,
But that's what makes it great.

Because you can see a flaw in someone
And normally greatly dislike it,
But it's not so bad
In this one person.

Love is not
Being blind to flaws.
That's being a liar.

Love is seeing flaws
And loving because of them when things are good,
And loving even though they're there when things are bad.

But humans are afraid
Of the unknown.
So we're afraid of bright happy things
And acceptance
And kindness
And compassion
And empathy that goes so very far.

We're afraid to help others,
And our fear turns to hate
And it's disgusting.

So push me with your lies
And cold behaviors.
Call me cold,
Call me a *****
For not chasing you
Like the runaway you want to be.

But you cannot chase people
Who do not want to stay,
And you, darling dear, never had any intention of staying.

My fear that no one intends to stay,
Though rational,
Cannot continue to be.

So continue running from people who only wanted to help,
Continue hurting people who did nothing,
Continue fighting due to fear,
And continue killing because you're afraid.

I will continue to be here,
On my adventure that is life,
With those who intend
To tag along and stay along.

It's funny,
Because I have gypsy blood in my veins,
I do not fear anything at all,
(Or I'm not supposed to)
Except being stuck in the wrong place
For a little too long.

Nothing is scarier
Than living, breathing people.

I've never had nightmares about corpses,
Because I've never seen one.
All funerals I've been to
Have been the closed-casket kind.

It's a morbid thought
That makes me uneasy.

The scariest monsters
That do the most harm
Are living and breathing.

We only fear the unknown
Because it is unknown to us.
I have no fear for what is already dead.
I seek to bring them peace,
And nothing else.

I am afraid of humans,
The living and breathing kind,
That float around your subconscious at night,
Reminding you how terrible you are.

I am afraid of humans
Because they are dishonest.

Animals are better.
When an animal doesn't like you,
It tries to bite your arm off.
Humans pretend to like you first.

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.

Lots of tears
Lots of panic
Lots of being
Wary. But!
I refuse to let one
Or two bad experiences
Make me miss out on
A life with you because
I love you. I just do.

Your laugh, your smile,
Everything.

I can't think of something I don't
Just love.

My ease when it comes to speaking to you
No forethought,
No pressure of judgment
It's like being able to breathe
Cold fall air
After muggy summer swamp air
For three months straight.

But then you said it back.
Wait, back up.
You said it back.

And you've said it to me at least
Five times today and it's only
6:55 PM (as I wrote out the rough draft to this)

And we can still speak
About everything from life to games
To geekery to the most lovely aspects of life and
I've been pretty happy at the most
For awhile,
But I'm flying.

I'm flying with you,
Bluebird.

I forfeited
the right to my heart
the moment
I went in for a hug.

I forfeited
the right
to my heart
the moment
I decided
this was it.

mistake or otherwise,
everything I do is the same.
grand and full of intention.

Don't worry about it,
It doesn't matter.

How do I fit?
Where I go from here?

I struggle with this
Belonging
In the same way
I struggle with feeling
Wanted,
And if I'm not even a person,
Then I'm guess I'm just a problem.

And problems require solutions
Or to be eradicated from the equation
Upon not finding a solution.

And after years,
Up until May 18th, 2016
When I figured out that I'm not that bad,
I had been contemplating
Eradication.

But on May 18th,
I realized it wasn't quite
Eradication that I needed,
Rather a solution.

And in your arms,
On July 4th,
I realized that neither
Eradication
Nor a solution would help me,
For I am a solution,
Not a problem.

I am not used to walking
On steady ground,
But I could get used
To walking beside
You.

Forgive me
For my slip ups,
For my faltering,
I am painfully aware
That being mentally ill is a struggle,
But I will persevere,
If not for myself,
Then for you and here and now.

Some days I fight the fight
For myself,
And others I can only bring myself to get out of bed
For you and what pride you could fathom having in me.

Other days I cannot wait
To leap from the blankets
And start my day.

But each and every day,
I get up.

Whether it be out of excitement,
Or a desire to be better.

Forget it.
I have a lot to say,
But not a lot of it can be said
For sure.

I'm not so great under pressure
That isn't life threatening.
And I'm not overtly funny,
Or good at acting,
And I can't sing a **** thing.

But I have some music in my heart,
That can sometimes be expressed through words
And food that tastes pretty alright if you ask me.

And I know things most people don't,
Though I don't know things most people should,
And I'm not great at things like math
Or science,
But I like science,
And math proofs are pretty cool to read too.

My train of thought is run by color,
And the ever changing varieties that appear
And are caused my sound and noise.
Like plates shattering is a translucent blue,
And knives on ceramic are yellow.

The word liar is
Light brown, yellow, pink and orange,
And the word love
Is light brown, green, yellow, and red.
Like a sunset over a forest.
The word forest is brown and blue with a hint of white.

I see the world as ever changing,
Ever turning,
But one thing,
Color,
Will always remain the same.

Bright and vibrant,
And it touches my spirit and my circulation,
Driving me from fiery to ice cold.

I see the vibrant blue of the sky,
And the soft pastel of a budding leaf,
And laugh at the orange of a sunset,
And the red of the sun.

Because nothing compares to the beauty I find
In a Bluebird I call mine.

And to know that random facts
About things that aren't necessarily important
Don't seem to bother
Someone important,
Settles the storm within my soul
Like no other.

I have spent years
Looking into the mirror
And calling myself broken,
Damaged,
No good.

I have spent my life,
Looking into that ****** mirror,
And fully comprehending
Why people give up on me,
Why people see me as broken
Damaged
No good.

I have spent the last
One hundred and two days,
Seeing myself as
Good,
Whole,
And somewhat decent.

I have spent
The last one hundred and two days
Defending and arguing and
Contesting
Those who dare say otherwise.

I am vividly aware of my flaws,
But I am slowly becoming
Somewhat vaguely aware
Of my virtues.

And finally,
I hope one day
I can see in me
Whatever type of light it is
That you see in me.

Allow me
To find my honest parts
And show you the cracked shards.
Allow me
To dig up my heart,
As shards of broken glass.
Be careful,
The edges are sharp.

Allow me
To show you
That I am whole,
Within my scars and missing parts.

And with all your light,
I hope one day you see
Why you give me so much hope.
I hope one day you can see
The good in you
As I strive
So hard
To show you.

And please,
Allow me to ask of you,
Do not go,

For I am whole
On my own,
But the best version of me
Is with you
At my side.

For me as a kid
It was never about fitting in.

It was about belonging
As I was.

Not like it mattered.
I moved around too much
To have more friends
Than a dog and a stuffed lion.

By the time
I was around
Long enough to have anyone
At all
I was perceivably damaged
Enough
That I didn't know how to interact,
And how to treat and be treated.

So I'm figuring it out.
I'm pretty close, I think.

But it's a weird feeling,
Finding a place where
Your abnormalities
Fit like a missing element to a painting.

Being ripped from it,
And ripping things from your
Personality and nature
To fit somewhere where you'd never belong
Anyway.
You're just not that way.
Not that catty.
Not that fake.

And when they reveal the horrible,
Razor-laden truth to you,
You sit there bleeding,
And ever so
Softly
You are approached by quiet footsteps.

You breathe in and smell the forest.
You breathe out and feel soft feathers.
And ever so gently
You are enveloped in a new type of kindness,
A new type of love.
Something real and refreshing,
But familiar.
But instead of being the missing element of the painting like before,
You're a missing instrument in a song.
The missing metaphor
From the poem,
That connects all the symbolism,
So the imagery is just right.

And finally,
Flying by your side,
Within your arms,
The fire in your eyes,
And the light of your smile,
I am home.

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.

I don't know how long forever is,
I'm not saying I do.
I guess you can't measure time
In such a heartfelt way.

But I do know this,
I'm real glad I didn't die
Before I told you I love you.
And maybe that's a little morbid,
A little strange to say,
But it's true.
I'm glad I failed
When I tried.

And I'm curious if you know,
Every day I'm with you
Is the first day
To the rest of my life.

And I guess I just didn't know,
How every part of you is my home
Until a month ago.

I'd love to travel the world,
But I wouldn't want to
If I wasn't by your side.
What's the point in seeing
All the sights
If I can't love you,
Right?

And I want to share it all
With you.

I don't know
How long forever is,
But I sure do know
I want to spend it all
With you.

I'm real glad
I'm alive,
It's easier to love you
With a heartbeat.

When the clouds draw near and you can't hear the shouting over your own tears, it's not going to be who you loved that destroyed you, but how much.

And even then, I promise it will have been worth it

I'd rather be afraid
Of what I'm afraid of
And not myself.

I'd rather fear
The weather and rain
And the thunder and the lightning,
Than fear something about myself
That I cannot fix.

But I'm labelled
Mentally ill
I'm labelled
A psychopath
I'm told I'm not well,

But this is the best I've been in years.

And I'm so afraid
I'm not the best I can be
But I'm getting better
In the only ways I know how.

Working harder at coping skills,
Falling asleep when I don't want to,
Waking up in general,
Wearing presentable clothes.

I'll be up-ing my medication
On Friday,
Because I need to be better,
I need to be stronger.

I need to be the very best
I can possibly be
For you,
For us,
For our future.

And I'm so afraid of the rain,
But I'd rather be afraid of the rain
Than afraid of myself.