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.

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.

Watch me defy the world
To make you smile,
If it means
You'll stay awhile.

I will defy
All odds
To let myself
Fly
With you.

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.

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.

Silently
Tears
Tend to fall.

Usually
I sob
In that ugly way.

But who cares
Who even reads
Into my words
Into my motives
Into what I'm trying
To say.

Who even cares.

Who's to say
Anyone cares,
No one says anything.

I don't mean likes,
I don't mean comments,
I mean from the people I want to
Hear speak.

It doesn't ******* matter,
Because in the end
These words are ******* worthless.

You'll never get it,
And my care will never
Be good enough
For anyone,
So who the ****
Even wants it?

Why do I even
Try?

Because I'm hoping
That one day
I'll stop feeling so rejected
When you just don't know what to say.

How you can love me
Even with my moods,
Even with my short temper,
No matter how just or unjust.
That you can love me
Almost because of my laughing at my own jokes
A little too hard,
Or finding stupid little things
A little too funny.

How you can love me,
Even when I'm too tired to properly say goodbye
To you in the morning.
When my nightmares wake me up,
And then I proceed to wake you up.
How you can love me
Maybe despite all my scars and wounds,
Or maybe even because of them.

I just find it so crazy,
That you love me.

But I've learned to accept it,
That maybe I'm worthy of the love
I keep trying to give.
That being
The unconditional,
Comforting,
Appreciative,
Finally being home,
And finally being free,
Kind of love.

And that's how you make me feel.
Worthy, and comforted, and like I'm finally home and finally free.

I couldn't be more grateful if I tried.

Sometimes I forget to feel.
or, I should say,
I forget to feel anything about things
I'm supposedly required to emote towards.

maybe it's because I'm too busy
feelings things about everything else.

so I can't feel bad that I didn't chase her or him,
that I didn't break myself all over again
to keep this and that person in my life.

I'm too busy feeling
happy
and free
and guilty for mistakes
I have yet to repent for.

I don't have time,
I guess,
to care whether or not
I'm feeling bad about whatever you want me
to feel bad about today.

sorry.

guess i'm
unfeeling.

I've been in worse places before,
And I can feel myself tugging on the ropes
To pull me out of it.

I feel alone,
Even when you're here.

The weeks seem longer,
The days seem like two at once,
I just want you to touch me,
Remind me that this is real.

But you're distant,
And I'm trying too hard.

I try not to cry,
And I try to be cute,
And I try to be sociable,
And I try to be smart.

But all I do is cry.

Maybe you won't be so distant
Forever,
But it sure hurts
Right now.

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.

I can feel the nausea and distaste
Pooling like blood from a wound in my mouth.

Spit and flush,
Brush my teeth,
Ignore the flashback creeping in the corner of my mind,
Because girls weren't people to you,
They were triumphs,
Beasts to have wrestled with and overcome.

And it makes me feel
The exact opposite of clean
Knowing you fooled me.

And as I'm scrubbing dishes in my mother's kitchen,
I make sure to scrub my hands with the rougher side of the sponge too.

When the hot water shuts off,
The cold of this virus
Hits me like a ton of bricks
And I see all these dark parts of myself,
And it twists like a knife in my stomach,
When I realize how much I hate you.

Bouncing between indifference and hatred,
The whiplash makes me nauseous.
I want to light your favorite shirt on fire,
Since you left it with me.
And I'm going to send the necklace back to your mom,
And the ring back to your brother,
Because neither thing was yours.

I don't deserve
To be reminded
That you were a part of my life,
And that part of my life was a lie.

I'm trying to pull through
An anxiety attack
So I type away
And hope to God it doesn't get much worse
Than a few labored breaths.

I can feel this virus
In the back of my throat,
Wrapping around my windpipe.

And with a few forced breaths
And dry eyes,
I push the sickening feelings
Back down my throat,
And this takes a turn now,
Because I just texted my Bluebird,
And all of a sudden I'm explaining almost-anxiety attacks
And we're talking about Pokemon Crystal,
Which he's playing on his phone.

And I ask him to promise,
And so he promises me
That he's not going anywhere.
And I'm crying because for the first time
In my entire life,
I believe someone when they make that promise.

And it hits me
Like a ton of bricks,
I'm okay.
I'm okay.

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.

Break my bones,
Just not my heart!

If I could force myself awake I would,
If I could push away all the nightmares, I would.

But I can't.

And within my sleep
I find no peace
From what was done,
Or who I was.

And I can feel cool, dry air
Rushing through my pores,
And through my nerves into my bones.
As my teeth clatter and my limbs shake
I am become vividly aware
Of the smell and taste of blood
That I can't quite get rid of.

No matter how many times I brush my teeth,
Or how often I prepare baked goods,
It lingers in the back of my head,
A memory that is much too real,
Much too there.

But each time I close my eyes,
I find myself drifting in the ****** ashes
Of bridges I had to burn
To preserve whatever sanity I had left.

And the fear that our bridge may be one
That will be burned in some way, shape, or form
Brings the flashbacks to a halt,
And I wish I could say, within the dream,
That I was demanding and loud
And told you not to.

That I fought tooth and nail
For you to stay.

That I chased you down.

That I begged you not to disappear like everyone else.

I wish I could say that.

But I didn't.

No. Instead I only said,

"Break my bones, just not my heart."*

And into the darkness you receded,
Ignoring my wish,
Just like everybody else.

My brain doesn't work right.

Most of the time,
I feel like I'm not real.
Like I don't exist.
But more like I don't consciously exist.
It's a very faded feeling.
It's, I guess, like being a ghost.

It's like everyone else is alive.
Like they're real.
They have real live bodies.
But, in comparison, it's like I'm not physically real.
I'm just a dull flicker of consciousness that occassionally flares into a full word.

I'm sorry, but I don't know what that word is, yet.

My brain doesn't work right.

Sometimes,
I feel too much.
Even though I might only be feeling one emotion or I might only be having one thought,
I feel all of it.
I feel everything.

I've been told that it's part of my illness.

That when people have the same chemical imbalances I have,
We feel things fifty times stronger than most people's.
Our emotions cut deeper.
Things mean more to us.

I guess that's why pretty much every great sentimental artist in history was thought to have some sort of Bipolar Disorder.

I guess, people become great and wise when they have Manic Depression Disorder.

But, I guess, only after they die.

Right now, though,
I can't bring myself to feel anything at all.

I suppose it's because some intuitive, subconscious part of myself knows that I'll be feeling much more than my fair share later.

You can do everything.

all the breathing exercises, all the mind calming techniques, all the grounding rituals, take all your meds at the appropriate times and with food, go to therapy, do the worksheets, make the changes, but you'll still falter sometimes.

and it could be anything, and you could see it coming and not even know you're seeing it.

it could be a song, a word, a noise, an action, anything.

for me it's the sound of rain on roofs.

and you'll fall back into the darkness and the hatred where you think no one can find you or pull you out again. You'll slip under the raging black sea, and let it consume you entirely
as black water
fills your lung
like rapids

and it burns but you let it happen.

because it was too quick, too sudden, for you to stop the water from drowning you.
you try to stand but you can't find your footing because there are no sandbars for you to stand on
only water.

and you thrash but sooner or later you're dizzy and your throat burns and everything is spotty and you can't think

and you're gone.

replaced by a shaking shell of the memory
of not being able to move your arms
and the thunder and rain drowning out your screams
and each blow to your head making it harder to make any noise at all
(and people wonder why you have memory issues)

and finally, when it's over
you're shaking and shivering and your sobs are so violent that they don't make any noise
you can't eat for weeks and when you do you just throw it right back up.
you can't look at your brother
or hug your father
and the disassociating gets so much worse that your arms bleed and ache almost constantly.

your "friends" worry, but not enough to do anything.
your teachers worry, but not enough to ask why.

no one ever asks, so you never tell.

and while you shake and shiver in the car
because you remember it all so well
and you just want it to stop
but you can't get enough air
and you're an absolute wreck,
there's light drifting down to you
through the murky black water.
it's bright and blue and warm
and suddenly you're on dry land
and can breathe
but you're looking into eyes made of galaxies and storms
and you're afraid if they see you this way that they'll leave,
because you're such a mess
but you can't pull it together.
but he found you, in that deep, dark water.
and he pulled you from it,
and helped you breathe again.

and you wish you could show some type of gratitude,
but you know that even if you said thank you a thousand times over,
you'd need a better word than that.

and you sooner or later smile,
and it's like the water and tar never took hold of you.

so maybe you can be better, with a little help.

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.

And I remember
The look in her eyes
When I explained that I hated her,
But it was a lie.

And I remember feeling the guilt
For the way I tried to save her,
But it was the only way
That I knew how.

And I regret trying
To do what I did,
But I cannot change the past
And I cannot change who I was.

And as much as I tried
To seek out forgiveness
She revoked it
Like a toy from an undeserving child.

I will always hold you
To a higher standard
Than others.
And for what I did,
I will hold myself
Even higher.

She probably won't ever understand
The point that intrusive thoughts drive you to,
Or how blackened my mind had become,
But I trust that as long as I can
Work towards
Forgiving myself,
I can be better.

I rhyme better
when I'm not thinking.
and I think better
with better flow
when I don't stop to think
of what I know.

and it's cold
and it's windy
and I can't think
of why I'm here,
and I wish I could vanish
just disappear

but i can't
I won't
that's not my
game
that's not how
I play.

I am shivering and frozen and missing you
and I wonder what I can do
to keep the winds
from making me colder still
and I wonder if you will
follow me through
what I've lost
and what I've gained?
older still,
I forget the name
of what the whole point
was.

but not that it matters
as long as you are mine.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

And then there's you.

You are colors spiraling through the air,
Magnificent and awe-inspiring and warm.

You are notes and octaves spun together to make
Music so sweet that I even think to sing--
But I don't, no, I don't.

You are Times New Roman,
Not appreciated by those who know nothing of valid script,
And yet still just as good and fawned over
As always and ever.

You are relief,
You are un-scarred flesh.
You are healing, you are love.

You are words bundled lovingly
And words scattered wildly.

You are warmth that melts my bones,
You are the love that melts me.
You are you are you are

And then there's us.

I'm having trouble
Eating while I sit on my break at work.
I worry a little too much
Excite a little too easily.

I'm a little eccentric
My foster parents used to say
I was a walking thesaurus.

My bio mom comes to me
when she finds science articles she thinks I'd like.

I'm dangerously slow to trust,
And much too quick to love.

But I've begrudgingly given my heart away,
And yeah
Yeah
Yeah
I know.

Red flags and sirens all around
Warning this Storm Siren
that she's falling
and falling hard.

But darling no,
No don't worry.
For once I am not falling.

I am no longer just a Storm Siren.
I am a Hummingbird,
to a Bluebird.

And I'm flying.

Call me selfish,
Scream it in my face,
Spraying saliva across my tears.
Accuse me of wanting to fight.

I spread myself too thin,
I ignore my needs
Because I want to care for other people
So badly.

I want to care so much
For everyone.
I want to make them smile,
And I hate making them cry.
I don't relish
Making others feel bad.
And I don't understand
Why others are cruel
It just doesn't make sense.

And I'll rack my brain
And cry over the cruelty
Others exhibit
But it's not worth a thing.

And I'm wanting to make you smile,
Because making other people feel better
Makes me feel better,
And I know that's a selfish reason,
But why not?

I hope I can make you feel better,
Make you laugh or smile,
Because bad things don't last,
They can't.

And my friends always ask me
"You're always here for me,
You always spread yourself so thin,
Who's going to be there for you?"

And I laughed and laughed
My way to the hospital.

And I'm trying so hard
To make others smile,
And some people try so hard
To bring me down.

And you've brought me down.

Call me selfish.

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.

There's a funny part about life
That you only notice
When you've seen hellish things
At too young an age.
When you tell your therapist(s)
"Oh, I'm only 21."
When they ask your age,
And then they shake their head
Because
"That's too much for you to have
Been through
At such a young age."

And then he asks
"When did the __ happen?"

And you respond with
"Well, there were multiple. Lasted over a span of five years."

His eyes go wide,
"How do you trust anyone?"

"Trust? Ha! Not anymore, sorry bud. I'm just honest."
I laugh, trying to sound lighthearted.
I sound cynical.
I sound bitter.

But this was two weeks ago.

And today suddenly
Trust is coursing through my veins
And I'm confused, and concerned
Because I don't get attached.
I don't let people in.
I stopped doing that a long time ago.

First person in three years that I let in,
Left without a good bye.
Then the first person I let in
In seven ****** years
Tried so very hard
To shatter me like the glass he thought I was.
Silly little boy,
Silly little, foolish boy,
I am not glass.
I am iron,
I am steel,
I am petrified bone
That will break your fist
If you try to break me.

And now, the person I trusted
And let in
About eleven years ago in September,
Is the person I am letting in
Once more.

And it's different this time.
We're not kids.
It's not platonic,
It's not looking at each other
On a bad day and thinking
"Thank God, my friend is here. Everything is okay now."

Instead we're adults,
And it's miserable.
And it's romantic but fun,
And it's looking at each other on a good day and thinking
"Dear God, am I lucky."

It's like even on fairly clear days,
Everything is a little brighter.
A little more colorful.
All weights
A little lighter.

And these things you've seen
That I've seen
And that we've been through
It would destroy some people,
But I truly believe
That having been through hell and back
Heaven can't be too far off,
Especially not when heaven
Is being held in your arms.

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.

"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.

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.

My flesh,
Soft and pale,
Against yours,
All muscular edges
And smooth surface,

Leaves me out of breath
And hopelessly dizzy.

And when you hold me
And speak
The vibrations of your voice
In your chest
Elates me,
As I am all yours,
And you are all mine.

And hearing your laugh,
Or opinion
Makes my day.

Your hand in mine
Brings a light
Forth
On my darkest days.

I am warm as I
Drift off to sleep thinking
About it tonight.

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 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.

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

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.

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.

Tears.

Confessions of a mindset.

Tears.

Relating to that mindset.

Tears.

Making it better.

More tears.

"Are you only wanting a relationship with me, or a life with me?"

"Bluebird, I want a life with you. I thought my hinting at that was fairly strong."

"I just wanted to make sure. But I want a life with you as well."

Tears.

Holy crap,
So many tears.
Do they stop?
If I talk, I'll hiccup.
I can't stop smiling.
But I'm all choked up,
And finally the tears are slowing,
And you feel bad for making me cry,
But they're good tears.

I never thought that
It would be requited.

And my head hurts,
So I'm going to go drink my tea
Or some water. Start preparing dinner.
All that jazz.

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.

My wrist hurts
Occasionally
From where he pushed me
And i tried to catch myself.
It has ached on and off
For three years.

My ankle twists
Occassionally
If i step on it wrong
From where he grabbed me and pulled
When i tried to run
The fourth time.

My shoulders still hunch
Into a flinching form
From people whose quick and too close movements
Were intended to hurt.

And I'm ashamed
And embarassed
But i know you get it,
But there's more that's left me
Less than before,
Than what i've told you.

Do you even know
How long I waited
For you?

Picking petals off roses
"We'll see each other again; We'll never see each other again."
I don't even like roses,
But when sitting in a ****** dress,
In a pool of rose petals,
You get to thinking.

White sheets
And the smell of
Warmth and stars,
I dreamnt of you
Rescuing me,
And I would sit in class
And daydream
Of a hero.

But I had to save myself,
But I couldn't escape
Myself.

And after saving
Myself
Yet again,
I found you.

And all that wishing
And wondering
And hoping
And dreaming,
Wasn't a complete lost cause.

And now you're here,
So completely and finally,
And I have no idea what to do,
But to fly with you.

And I'm scared and skittish,
But I'll take off and soar,
Keeping the thrill of my delight
To a dull roar.

On a night where my teeth were bloodied,
I went to sleep and my dreams were
So sweet,
Because I met you there
And for some reason
I knew it was all or nothing.

You lay in bed
Melting your mind
With video games.

Video games that you use too often
As an outlet
Video games that you pay more attention to than you do me,
Even during our designated "let's actually spend time together" time.

Electronics are SOOO
Much more important.
Whether it be your phone mid-conversation with me,
Making you have to ask me to repeat myself (for the third time in five minutes) because you were distracted.
Or whether it be your video games,
That you focus so intently on,
With so much more focus than you have
EVER given me.

But interupting things is rude, right?
My asking for your full attention while you play your ******* games
Is so rude, right?

Go **** yourself.

I am not a hobby,
I am not a book,
I am not a toy.

You cannot just pick me up and put me back when you're bored with me.

I am human and I am alive and I need to be more than just a passing glance or an after thought.

These games,
They are hobbies.

You seem to be confused.

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.

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.

I have been left
in the rain
in the midsts
of my own storms

I have been diminished
demeaned
and berated.

but none of that matters
now that you are so finally mine.

we have both changed
and beyond the pain
of change
and the hurt
of growth

but beyond that

I have felt the pain
of loss
and grown used
to being left
and yet I still fear
a more permanent farewell
between you and I.

but I do not doubt
your efforts
or you.
I do doubt
my sanity
and however long
it will last
and how long
you will stick it
out.

but for now I will appreciate
the warmth
and the dry
that is here.

I am not one for goodbyes.

goodbye means going away.

and going away means forgetting.

I do not care to forget you.

that's from Peter Pan I think.

but you are no lost boy
I trust that
flying away to Wendy
or Neverland
are not options
you are looking at.

I love you
so
and I know
that we were brought together
to last.

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.

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.

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.