I can't laugh maniacally
And I can't hurt someone
Without feeling lots of guilt,
I can barely keep a secret
If it's mine and I think it'll hurt someone.

So stamp
"Chaotic Good"
In red on my forehead,
And I'll only do good
If it so suits my moral compass.

But my good involves
Vengeance,
It involves fighting for honor.
It involves putting the care
For the people I love
First and foremost.
***** the idea
That those who attempt
Volatile blackening
Of names
Deserve to be validated
Or made to feel supported,
I'd rather rip them to shreds,
In that righteous way I have about me.

And maybe it's wrong,
But I can't make a plan for world *******,
Because honestly I don't care enough.

And I'd make a terrible villain
For the same reasons I'd make a terrible lawyer,
Because I shake when I'm anxious
And cry when I'm mad.

But at least I know
I wouldn't be able to sit back
And watch the world burn.

"And what are men to rocks and mountains?"

Out of all the things I have read,
I am most fond of stories that display
That love is powerful
And that love conquers--
And I used to believe
Love was just a fairy tale.
That it wasn't real,
That it was a piece of fantastic fiction
That everyone agreed
To pretend was real.

I convinced myself of this.
That if you couldn't be mine,
That I didn't know romantic love at all.

But you are mine,
Wholly and entirely.
And if I had read anything
To be true,
It would be also from Pride and Prejudice:
“The distance is nothing when one has a motive.”

Distance,
Drifting away
Drifting apart,
It's something I feel deeply,
Something I've felt so often,
That the absence of absence
Makes me feel skittish.

And maybe it's just
Me.

People come
And people go.

They drift in and out of my life
As though I'm a rest stop
For busy travelers
On busy journeys
That I may never
Be a part of.

And though I give them a chance to close
Their strained eyes,
And a chance to rest
Their weary heads,
When they awake
They always expect more comfort.

But I was not made
To make them comfortable.
I was not born
To please.

And when I decide
I would like to start my journey,
They go.
It's too much trouble.

I'm too much trouble.

The absence of absence
Leaves me anxiously pacing,
Panic-stricken,
Ringing my hands together,
Waiting for it to all
Come falling down.

But this absence
Is killing me.

It's all in the cards,
So let's shuffle our deck,
And see what say our hearts.

Shuffle your deck,
Lay out the cards
And we'll find within the symbolism
Whether we're fleeting
Or meant to be.

And I be a liar if I said I trust cards
More than people,
But I definitely trust the books that hold stories of them
Infinitely more.

But these books,
They're my home.
I got to the library, the bookstore,
And please understand, that's my church.
Within those walls and these papers,
I find my truth and my guidance.
My gospel is To **** a Mockingbird,
My old testament is the complete works of Charles Dickens,
And my new testament is J.D. Salinger's Franny and Zooey.

I find prayer within Lord Byron,
And I seek guidance from Richard Bach.

So maybe it is all in the cards,
But if I could read the cards
As well as I read Edgar Allen Poe,
I'd be the most profound clairvoyant
In the history of history.

But I bet you
That when I seek prayer within Brent Weeks and Oscar Wilde,
Know that I'll find every reason to be with you
And none other,
And I'll see the beauty
Of our future
Together.

I love you so much.

More than the moon and stars.

I love you so much,
That I would lock myself away forever
If it meant you were finally given some type of peace.

I love you so much,
That I would anxiously give away
All the scars and memories I have
That I'm so twistedly proud of,
If it meant you could be happy.

I love you so much.
You are the air I need to breathe.
But I would gladly
Die of asphyxiation and oxygen deprivation
If it meant you were safe.
If it meant you could be okay.

I love you so, so, so much.

And I know it doesn't mean much,
But I am going to keep my promises,
Even if they're already broken.
I'm going to fix this, us.

I love you so much.
Though I understand if you don't believe me.

I mean, how could you believe that someone
Loves you
When all they seem to do is leave?

I want to tell you that I know that I wouldn't be able to believe that either.

But what you need to know is that I already don't.

If you have wings
why bother with walking?

whether they be ivory and scaled
or black and feathered,
spread your wings and fly--

for those who know flight,
a life on the ground is meaningless.

I trust,
deeply and sincerely,
that you're not meant for the red clay-mud
and ever sharpening blades of grass,
and dew drops and ladybugs,
but rather the burning hydrogen lights
and the shimmering moons
of the starscape.

The more you try to tell me
What is right
And what is wrong,
What I should do
And what I should not,
The more you make me
Want to face-plant
Into a wood chipper.

And yet,
You continue to speak.

I'm sure one day you'll see me.
One day you'll appreciate that I stuck around.
One day you'll realize that this is give and take,
And that I've given more than my fair share,
(But I'm okay with that.)

One day you'll understand that I can't read minds,
And one day you'll articulate that you care,
And one day you'll verbalize how much I mean to you.

One day you'll hear me,
Without words.
And one day you'll see me
With your heart.

But until then,
I'll keep guessing and hoping
That maybe I am enough for you.
And maybe there are just words you haven't said,
Maybe there are actions left to be done.

One day I'll be healthy.
One day I'll be better.
One day I'll be what you subconsciously want me to be,
Because maybe that's the problem.

But until that day,
I sit here with misty eyes,
Choking on whimpers and sobs.

I just want you to show that you care.

"It's the only color I call home, because where the flora is green, life will always be seen." By K.A.S.

The storm ebbs,
Always at the very edge,
Teetering off the very ledge.
The storm flows,
But it just never moves,
It just never goes.

I remember when your words dressed me so proudly.
I remember when your eyes said love so loudly.

But I guess I was right,
Because every sunshine day ends in a cold dead night.

You never knew what I meant
When I swore every breath of yours was heaven sent.

But I guess I was always wrong,
Because we just sat in silence,
Forgetting all our words,
And forgetting all our songs.

But I still love you from the highest sight,
I still love you to the dimmest light.
I still love you every day,
I still love you every night.

But if a time should come
Where our future is unclear,
Know that I love you always,
I'll always be waiting right here.

I think
You might think
That maybe I didn't feel when our ship began to sink.

I think you didn't notice
The break in my heart,
And in all my other parts.
Because you turned away
When I started to decay.

I don't know if you'll ever tell me
Where we were led astray,
But I know, now,
Nothing green can stay.

Yeah. Nothing green can stay.

I cannot wait
To weather storms with you,
And I cannot wait
To see all the miracles of life with you.

And I used to think
I was the Eponine
To your Marius,
But I am the Hinata
To your Naruto.

My head hurts with
Pain I faced alone,
But I can't wait for the day
We face the world hand-in-hand,
Because you are all that I've ever wanted
Out of life and more.

It's taken awhile,
But I'm finally where I'm meant to be,
I'm finally within your heart.

I have a
Cheshire Cat Grin.
Just as mad
Just as eerie.

I have a Cheshire Cat Smile,
I'll coo to you in the wisps of your rage,
"Oh, but didn't you know?"
But you never knew
You never knew,
Did you?

I have a
Cheshire Cat Grin,
Because I am just as mad,
Just as eerie,
Just as innocent,
And just as deadly,
Within the words, the stories I spin,
The webs I weave.

I have a
Cheshire Cat Smile,
And, Darling Dear,
I'm Mad as a Hatter.

Did you hear?
Did you hear?
The crash and the clatter?

Did you see?
Were you there?
When all that red splattered?

I am the
Voice of the Trees at Night,
I am the
Whisper in Your Bones when Panic Takes Flight.

I am the
Cheshire Cat
And honey, look at my smile.
I am the
C
  H
     E
        S
           H
               I
                 R
                    E
(They're burning in the fire!)
                      C
                   A
                T
(What was that?)

Feel the shiver down your spine,
As the air of this toothy feline
Makes you wonder
Where does madness draw the line?

Do you want the answer?
Will you chance her?

"Why is a raven like a writing desk?"

I'm flopped on the side of the couch,
Dressed in torn up leggings
And your wrestling sweatshirt.

I'm missing you,
And I feel utterly
And entirely
Blah.

Sluggishly I wander
Into where I keep my clothes and shoes,
and eye my tight black dress,
And my thigh high suede black boots,
And I wonder how you'd react
If you saw me all done up.

And while normally
I'd play with the idea,
Today is just makes me sadder,
And I miss you even more.

I will get
All dressed up
Tomorrow.

And send you a picture
That you won't get
Until Saturday.

And maybe I'll wear
My thigh high suede black boots--
Otherwise known as my suede-slip-on-confidence.
And hopefully this week
Will go by faster.

The saddest part about hearing
Someone's voice start to crack
When they're talking about something
Most people find poetic,
Is that you can see
The strength in their eyes
Start to sever from their heart.

The saddest part about people
Is that we find love and death and hate and life
To all be extremely poetic, beautiful things.
But they're none of that.

Love is painful.
It can destroy you,
And even when it helps you grow,
And everything is going great,
There's still an ache in your heart
Because you're so used to the possibility
Of it ending at any second, at any time.
And even during the happy hurt,
It still hurts.
You ache to touch,
You ache to hold.

Death isn't beautiful.
It's horrible. It rips people from your heart
Without so much as a warning,
And even when you had warning,
Even when you thought you prepared for it
It still rips every part of you to shreds.
It takes everything you thought you were,
You thought you had.

Hate isn't poetic.
It's deadly.
The passion may empower you,
But it can **** you.
And you won't recognize
The monstrosity you've become.

But all of this,
All of this life,
It's lovely.
It is gruesome and painful
And filled with aches and wounds,
But it's so ******* beautiful,
With all its juxtaposition
And irony.
And if you can find just a glimmer of hope
Within all of this sadness,
Then you too
Are so beautiful.

And the saddest part about life
Is how it can break you,
But the most beautiful part
Is seeing how you can stand back up
Despite all odds.

It hurts a lot to open up
To anyone.
But I think it takes a lot of courage
To handle it on your own.
But I think it takes a lot of courage
To open up to someone.
And I know for a fact
Courage is underrated.

Why are poets sad?

Interesting question.

Maybe we feel too much.

Are too thin skinned.

Maybe we care too much.

But maybe we need thicker skins.

But what makes a poet
A poet
Is not what would make us different,
But what makes us the same.

A poet
Is a poet,
Because of who they are
And the flaws that are healthy enough
To embrace.

I am a poet,
And though I am not always sad,
I know I care too much,
Feel too much,
And my skin is much too thin
To stand being ignored.

I am a poet,
And if you so choose to take me,
You take me as I am,
Ink stained bleeding heart
And all.

(I will not change
For the love
Of a human,
I will not change
My heart.
As I know
For sure
You will love me
Through it.)

I am the blue of a bruise.
I am the black of the bags under your eyes.

I am the tar in your lungs,
I am the acid in your throat,
I am the venom in your veins.

I am shivering out of fear
And insecurities.
I am shaking out of hatred,
And all the rage you possess.

I am making the music louder
Louder
Louder
Louder
Too loud.

I am curled in a corner,
With a blanket pulled over your head.

I am the poison you know
All too well.

I am the reason you say
You're probably going to hell.

I am disgust
I am rage
I am the reason
You don't make it
To the end of the day.

I am all your deep seeded
Insecurities
And I'm coming out to play.

BPAD
And
MDD
And
GAD
And
ADD
And
PTSD

And you wonder why I call my brain
Alphabet soup?

So many things
Going on in my head
And while I am astonished
That you love my insanity,
I am even more bewildered,
That you've somehow
Come across the parts of me
That are sane.

And I struggle from time to time
Finding bits and pieces
Of sanity
And putting it back together,
But you help
With casting light on those parts
More than you could ever know.

And I feel like
My chest is too tight
And like
My throat is closing
And like
I need to rip my heart out,
It's beating too fast.

But even on my worst days,
You still find ways to show
That you love me,
And I could never be more grateful
To you--

For holding me through anxiety attacks,
For wiping away tears,
For making me smile
When I forget that I can.

I know you hate when I thank you
For things you think you're supposed to do,
But no one before you
Wanted to.

And no,
Love can't heal my disorders.
But it sure does help me
Along the way.

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.

I have friends who have gotten hot coffee thrown at their backs
for only half of their heritage.

and I have friends who have been told to hang themselves
with things they only wear on special occasions.

and I have friends who know nothing of these fears and these events,
because their privilege is as dominant as their
race
sexuality
gender
and they're as seemingly neurotypical
as it comes.

but still,
they empathize.
they understand.
and I'm certain if they were asked,
they would fight alongside
us too.

there is hope within this darkness,
there is warmth within this storm,
we will fight until the end of days,
and then we will fight further on.
please just stay strong.

it would be easy to give in,
it would be easy to give up,
it would be easy to let this be the end,
to sigh and wrap our time up.

but this is just the beginning,
and we know nothing of the end.
so stand against us as our enemies,
or rise with us as our friends.

Her birth name was Ryan,
But she was a girl
In every aspect
Except the one you wanted to believe.

And her older brother,
His name was Simon,
But we called him "D",
Short for Denial.

Because that was all he could do,
Deny life was bad.

And we loved them so much,
But when the old German man died,
They went to a new home,
And then Reese couldn't take it,
After they cut her hair
And made her wear polos
And jeans.

No more sparkly shoes,
Only white sneakers.

No more pink,
Only blue.

So she was gone,
And most of D left with her.

And when he finally faded out of this world,
Everything broke.

In March,
Literally a year later,
We found his letter that he left for us.

To this day,
When I think of anyone I love dying,
I promise myself I'll try to be with them,
Because you were so alone,
And I don't want anyone,
Especially my Reese
And Simon Jonathan Marter
To feel so alone again.

I call the raccoon
"Theo" for short.

he has a twin brother
named Franklin.

Franklin likes to fly about at night,
while Theo likes to snack on stonefruit and
cold pizza.

they might look
drastically different.

they might be
drastically different

but they're still twins.

whether Theo speaks too softly
or Franklin plays music too loudly,
they're still Theo and Franklin.

it's a funny thing about being attached to someone like that, by namesake.

no matter how different you are from each other,
your names will still roll off people's tongues
together.

and while you think no one sees you as an individual,
know that your counterpart does.

so while he flies around and peers at you from the windowsill,
and you nibble on a plum and watch Netflix too late at night,
know that you know
you're different.

I love in vast amounts.

With all of me.

With my whole being.

How do you "low key" love someone?

How do you not give your all?

How do you not wear yourself thin?

I'm destroying myself
Because I love so much.
Because with the amount of love I give,
I know I'll never be worth half of it.

And maybe it's some kind of cosmic punishment.
For whatever sins against whatever god I may have committed.

Too much of anything is too much.
Even something like love.

My skin is starving for your touch,
And my heart aches for your voice.

I don't think I'll ever get better
And maybe that's why you're so far away
Even when you're right here.

I do not want
To be touched.
I do not want
You to whisper sweet nothings
Into the air,
Meant for me.

I want someone to fight the world with.
Someone to see the battle
From my eye level.
Someone to raise me up,
So I can see it from theirs.

I do not want
A lover.
I do not want
Passion.

I want fire,
And fire power.

I want a comrade in arms,
I want someone to be my equal,
I want to fight alongside
Someone in this battle of life,
And stand at their level,
And be awarded
With the same valor as them.
I want the same pain,
I want to help them with their struggles,
Because I, too, have been there and theirs.

I want to fight demons off
With a blazing dagger
To protect my friend,
My colleague,
This person I want to stand up and fight with.

Do not mistake me
For a girl who wants
To be a princess.
Who wants to be a fairy.
A goddess.

I do not need the spoils of war.
I need the breath of fresh air,
The honor,
The knowing I have done right by my friends.

I do not want things and gifts and shiny bobbles.
I want to know
That through the thick mustard gas shrouded fog,
When it clears and my vision returns and oxygen finds my lungs once more,
That I can stand by someone,
And in turn they may stand by me.

And together we will feel horror at the trenches,
But when the light of day finds us,
When the enemy's white flag is raised,
We'll have each other,
And in that, even after waking up drenched in cold sweat from the PTSD-induced night terrors,
We will have peace.

“DEMON MATH
What is JUST in a world
you've ripped in two
as if there could be
a half for me
a half for you
what is FAIR when
there is nothing
left to share
what is YOURS when
your pain is mine to bear
this sad math is mine
this mad path is mine
subtract they say
don't cry
back to the desk
try
forget addition
multiply
and i reply
this is why
remainders
hate
division.”


― Kami Garcia, Beautiful Chaos

And as a remainder,
I've closed my eyes,
And let fear take me
Too many times.

But don't you know,
My darling,
We're under the same sky?

I've lost
And I've gained,
And I've lost again.

But today my hand
Is yours to hold,
And it will be tomorrow,
And each day after.

Because after all the terrible things
I've known,
You're the best part
Of anything
I could ever
Call my own.

So please,
Add me to your equation
And I know you'll find the answer
Within the loving-me kind of persuasion.

And I'm so glad
You'll be mine
For forever,
And I'm so glad
You're going to
Stay.

We're under the same sky,
But we'll be together soon,
You and I.

This is the year
Of being alright.

We'll be okay,
We'll be just fine.
We'll figure it out.

This is the year,
This is it,
This is the year
Of being alright.

We'll be okay,
We'll be just fine.
We'll figure it out.

We'll paint the sky
With new color,
And we'll sing the birds
New songs.

We'll be okay.
We'll be okay.
We have to be okay.

The rabbit hops through the snow,
Almost disappearing
As his fur is bright and white as the fog behind him.

He halts when he sees the large black bear.

The bear spots him immediately.

The bear bounds over to the rabbit,
And stands on his hind legs after they touch noses.

The rabbit ***** his head to the side,
And the bear paws at the note tied to his neck.

A man clears his throat.

The bear jumps, obviously shaken by the noise,
While the rabbit edges closer, chest puffed out and head held high.

The man laughs.

"I won't hurt you." The man says softly.
"That note, I believe it's for me."

The bear is crouched,
Seemingly trying to hide behind the rabbit.

The rabbit sticks his little arms out to his sides,
And shakes his head.

The man frowns.

A lion appears behind him.
And then a tiger.
And then cats and dogs and birds and snakes.

"There haven't been animals in this wood in decades." Explains the man. "All these animals are just like you."

The bears slowly looks up and blinks at the other animals.

The rabbit puts down his arms.
He suddenly bounces towards the man, sniffs him furiously,
And then grabs the note off the bear's neck.
The bear lets out a halfhearted roar,
And sits down.

The man reads the note.
He crushes it in his hands, and calls to the various, now having become animals.
He stands, back turned to the bear.

The bear's eyes go wide.

"All of your people did what they could to protect you. It is now that we seek vengeance for them. It is now that we take back these woods, our land. It is now that we save the remainders of our people. We have become, because of them. It's time we pay our debt!"

The rabbit stands at the man's feet. He looks awe-struck, and he squeaks in agreement while the other animals grown and yowl their responses.

The bear does nothing, but stare at the man's back.

Because out of the man's back
Sticks a wind-up key.
That just keeps on spinning,
With no end in sight.

I hope you're well,
I hope you're warm,
I hope you're safe,
I hope you're happy.

'Cause I'm alright,
But I'm cold,
But I'm scared,
But I'm sad.

There's lots of things
I'm worried about.
I'm scared that you'll change your mind,
I'm scared you'll walk out.

And I wonder,
If you're worried too.
If you are,
Then I wish I could
Show you you're wrong.

There's lots of things
I'm scared about.
I'm worried you'll find something better,
I'm worried you'll walk out.

But I remember
Your arms around me,
And I remember
Everything you've told me.

And I wonder if
You're scared too,
Or if you miss me too.

I hope that you're not,
I hope that you don't.

'Cause missing someone
Is the worst feeling to have,
When they're still a week and three days
From your arms.

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

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

I've never seen it.

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

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

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

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

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

Your eyes are filled with fire and galaxies
And your heartbeat thrumming against your chest
And into my eardrums
Pierces me with some type of calm
I'm not used to feeling.

And your presence
Is presently
The only thing I crave.

I hope for my heart and soul
To collide with yours,
In some type of sunset-colored supernova.

And your voice plays along inside my head,
Building up waves of robin's egg blue
And rushing white and royal, shimmering navy.

You are mine
As I am yours
And despite all my fears
Nothing will change that
Not truths to falsehoods
Or falsehoods to truths.
Not visions of the past
Or past visions.

And I could count every star
Visible to me
And still the number would not compare
To the great sum
That is my love for you.

But every star in the sky's
Brilliance does not compare to you.

And it *****,
Because your grin pulled a trigger,
Sending an explosive array of metaphysical
Bullets of "This is all I need,"
Right through my chest.

And as I lay in the grass,
Sadness and confusion bleeding out from my wound,
And an infection of optimism
And gleeful epiphanies
And feelings of finally being home,
Developing in the torn up skin and broken bones,
And shredded muscle tissue,
I look up at the stars overhead.

And finally I understand,

Because you are not one single star to me,
You're the whole **** sky.

Call me light and call me dark,
As soon as  your lips grace mine,
I am enveloped in hope,
I delve into sunshine.

There is a certain feeling
That you get from bird songs.
And there is a certain buzz
That you've given me all along.

Maybe it's your smile,
And maybe it's your arms around me,
But I want it to be you,
And I want it to with me.

And all the light
Of all the days,
Doesn't compare to how you make me feel
In every beautiful way.

You are the sunshine,
And I am the moonlight,
And I will love you for forever,
And everything will be alright.

The thing I like most about November,
It's that it's easier to let go than to remember.

But if I've learned anything from October,
It's that even relentless things can be over.

And if I know anything about September,
It's that love is an ever burning ember.

Or if I know anything about August,
It's that your eyes are flawless.

Yet if I know a thing or two about July,
It's that true love never dies.

And if I know about June,
It's that things can never start up too soon.

If there's anything I know of May,
It's that the cruel shall perish and pay.

If I know of April,
It's that people can grow to be hateful.

If there were something I knew of March,
It's that death's scythe claims a cruel arch.

But if I know of February,
It's that frost kisses my heart like butterflies kiss fairies.

And if I know a thing or two about January,
It's that I fear no fire, and that should make you wary.

And I know anything at all about December,
It's that the smallest memory will make your heart dismembered.

Though what I love most about November,
It's that I'm so glad you remember.

And whether you be near to me,
Or far is where you have to be,
I am here to stay,
Because even if there's a thousand miles between us,
I'm looking your way.

I breathe in.
I breathe out.

The air is cold--
Or maybe that's
Just me.

My hands are icy,
But that's nothing new.

My heart is racing,
But I have yet to hear from you.

I can feel my pulse,
But I can't feel any blood.

My wrists don't ache,
But maybe they should
And I'm confused
Because isn't that
How anxiety presents itself
In the physical form?

But maybe this isn't
Anxiety.
Or maybe I don't
Have a physical form.

I breathe in.
I breathe out.

He whispers something kind under his breath.
Something that makes me stop going towards that light.

Something like
"I wouldn't want you to keep talking to me
If it makes you uncomfortable."

And I stop and I look over my shoulder
And he's looking down at his feet,
Remembering something good,
Something fun,
Something real.

I hear him again
"You're so kind and good. I'm sorry that happened to you."

And it makes me feel sick,
Because if I'm so kind and good,
Why did you leave?

And then I hear it
Over and over and over
Like the ghost of ex's past.

"Abuse abuse abuse abuse"
All my friends and loved ones
Chanting what a monster you are.
That it was all a game
All  a sham,
An act.

That it was just an act to you.

So I turn from the light.
And walk into something I'm new to.

I walk into the warmth of
Something I don't recognize.

It's called friendship.
It's called kindness.
It's called human decency.

You should look it up.

I breathe in.
I breathe out.

It's cold tonight,
And I should be too.

It's cold tonight,
And ***** this and ***** you.

It's cold tonight,
And why should I care?

It's cold tonight
And I'm shivering
And I'm shaking
And I just can't breathe ******* it.

It's cold tonight
And I just want to be alone and freeze,
Because the only person I want to be warm around
Is four hundred ******* miles away.

And when your words distance themselves
From your heart
It hurts to not be reassured
When all you wanna hear is that they'll stay,
That it's gonna be a-o-******'-kay.

But you don't even know.

It's cold tonight,
And so am I.

It's cold tonight,
And cut me open,
I won't bleed, I swear,
I'll shatter.

It's cold tonight,
And I'm angry for no reason,
Throwing a ******* tantrum,
Because my heart hurts and
You're distant.

And I know I'm immature
I know I have no reason to be upset,
But I am and I can't pinpoint why and
**** it.

Whatever,
Forget it.
I can't even make sense
To myself.

It's cold tonight,
And so am I.

Love with all your certainties,
Love with all your absolutes.
Love with the entirety of your being.

Love without questioning it,
Love without fear,
Without further contemplation on
Whether or not
It is right,
Despite all fear.

Do not love
In percentages,
Less than one hundred.

Because I love you
With 100% of my being,
And 100% of my heart,
And 100% of everything I can fathom
And muster up.

I do not love
In percentages less than
One hundred.

I will love you
For all of my life,
If you intend
On staying.

I will give you
100% of myself.

Some days,
I can only put in
43% of my best,
Because I don't even have
5% for myself.

But on those days,
I will still love you
100%,
And know I will never
Love you less
Than one hundred percent.

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.

Love someone who makes you think,
Love someone who makes you question your perspective.
Love someone who holds you after a nightmare.
Love someone who makes winter feel like spring.

Love someone who you can watch a fire with, and it feels like a light show.
Love someone who you can dance with (and it's not terrifying).
Love someone who you can see a future with.
Love someone who you can tell all your dark, deepest secrets to, and they don't throw you away for it.

Love someone who will be there when everything comes crashing down at once.
Love someone who will see you for who you are.
Love someone who will love you for it.
Love someone who will be patient with you and your broken parts.

Love someone who knows you and all your hearts' songs.
Love someone who knows what hurt looks like when it takes over your features.
Love someone who knows your sadness and your happiness.
Love someone who knows the difference between your smiles.

Love someone who sees how mangled you and your thoughts are.
Love someone who hears you when you say you're sorry. Really hears you.
Love someone who smells like a rainstorm.
Love someone who tastes like a warm fire when you kiss them.
Love someone who feels like you're finally home.

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.

It is 2:00 PM on Thursday, October 20th, 2016.

It is exactly two weeks and five days until the rest of my life begins.

I still can't find the words to tell you in an exact and fitting way
Everything I've always wanted you to know.

I want to tell you that you make me feel safe.

I want to tell you that being with you is like breathing a sigh of relief. It's like finally being home.

And I don't know if you understand how much I've longed to have a home. How desperately I've wanted to feel like I belong somewhere. And I know I belong with you.

I want to tell you that being with you is like being able to see, smell, taste, hear, and feel for the first time. Like I couldn't before. Like I was able to, but it's not the same. This is new, this is different. This is real.

I want to tell you that I was strong without you. That I could stand just fine without you. That I'm capable and competent without you. But with you? Dear God, you give it-- Everything-- purpose.

And I want to tell you that there's something soothing about standing tall without reason, there's something empowering about it. But nothing feels better than having meaning, than doing everything for a reason.

I want to tell you that you make me feel whole-- I was whole without you, but you make me grounded. Like I really am real, alive, and good.

I want to tell you that you make me feel like I'm a good person. Like I'm better than I was. Like I can be better.

I want to tell you that part of me is scared. Like I won't be good enough for you, like if I tell you any of this you'll walk away.

But the other part of me, the bigger part of me, is excited. I want to be yours, entirely. Because I love you more than forever, more than always.

I want to tell you that I'm more than ready to spend my life with you, and that I know our future together only holds beautiful, amazing things. Thank you for being mine.

Your skin
touching mine
your flesh
pressed against me
the rush of your blood
and the curve of your
spine
and arch of your back
and the motion of your hips
and the crook of your neck
is where my lips connect
to your skin
and your flesh

and your heart is b-b-beating against
my ch-ch-chest
and your hands wander
and my mind wonders.

and I can feel you growing ever the warmer,
almost achingly feverish
where my thighs connect to my loving and lustful hunger.

and the world crashes and rebuild and crashes and rebuilds and crashes and falls and rebuilds and then we reach a type of beautiful and extravagant crescendo and the world slowly rebuilds piece by piece
as I collapse and crash with your lips on my skin

and I've never felt more at peace.

Soft yellow light,
Pink lower case,
Soft blue arches,
Green curves,
Red snakes.

Orange like a sunset,
Grey wolves howling,
Warm orange yellow like honey,
Green curves,
Orange like a sunset,
Brown like sand.

Red snakes,
Purple curve,
Orange like a sunset,
Warm orange yellow like honey,
Green curves,
Blue corners,
Blue corners,
Pink lower case.

Yellow
Yellow
Yellow

In short, the love of my life.

There is a ray of golden sun,
I know there is.
I just have to find it.
It drives me to keep going.
It drives me to be stronger
Than that part of me that screams that I should listen.
That pulls and tugs on my heart-strings
And tells me that no one will miss me when I'm gone.

There is a ray of golden sun.
I know there is.
I've seen it.
It keeps my head above the opaque black water,
It keeps me warm against the pitch dark tundra.
It keeps me whole when I feel bitterly brittle,
And when I'm about to break.

There is a ray of golden sun,
I know there is.
I can feel it.
It's soft unlike my thoughts,
Which are jagged and cruel and splinter painfully into my heart.
It's sturdy unlike my shaking figure,
Shivering from the anxiety and wracked with painful sobs.

There is a ray of golden sun,
I know there is.
I've almost caught it in a jar once.
When I was falling into pieces of storm clouds and dust,
I chased after it, knowing that if I caught it,
I wouldn't need the lightning anymore,

There is a ray of golden sun,
I know there is.
I recognize it in your eyes,
Behind the blue.
I know that's what it is because
It goes away when you're too tired,
Or when you're upset about something.
But it comes back when you're happy,
Or when I make you laugh.

There is a ray of golden sun,
I know there is.

Kiss my palm

My hand touches your cheek
My thumb caresses your bottom lip.

You can't help but finally smile at me.

You run your calloused hands
Though my wild tangle of
Dark fire hair.

You pull me close.

It is not what I expect.

You tell me
"I told you to forget."

I sigh,
"When have I ever listened?"

Dear Drift Compatible,

You are my best friend. We do not talk every day, but we do not have to. You are kind, and good, and loving. You are my best friend, and sometimes more like a mom, and I love you for that.

When I was broken up with on your porch and ever so suddenly homeless once more, you let me keep some of my stuff with you while I was in the hospital.

You offered me a place with you wherever you are if I ever need it, and that is the kindest, most beautiful thing someone has ever done for me. If I could compare you to a summer's day, I probably wouldn't. They're humid and gross and sticky, things we hate. Winter wouldn't work either, too cold and your heart is too kind and warm.

Maybe early Fall. We'll look back into it.

Thank you for being the Spock to my Kirk ('cause you make sense and I'm an emotional mess but we're both pretty smart), the Riza Hawkeye to my Roy Mustang without the weird ****** tension, and  the Fireheart to Graystripe because everyone knows you're the logical Fireheart and I'm the poor-decision making Graystripe. You are the Levy to my Lucy ('Cause Fairytail had to be mentioned).

Forever your adopted child,
Who needs glass when we have anime and cats?

Humans are stupid
Foolish creatures.

We destroy in order to create,
And we create to live vicariously,
And ultimately to destroy.

But there are some good things,
Some good parts,
To us.

Some of us care too much,
Love too much,
Want to help
Just a little too much.

And we end up
Destroying ourselves
But we love with everything we are,
So we give with everything we are
And we can only hope
To actually be the good
We want to see in the world.

There is a light within our eyes
That is only seen in the darkest of nights,
And it guides us home,
It guides us home.

I want to be the good
That they want to see in the world,
If not for me
Then for everyone after me.

And there is a light in our eyes,
That is only seen in the darkest of nights.
And it guides us home,
It guides us home.

You always thought it was
Attention, money,
Financial stability.
A solid job,
Whether you like the work or not.

I thought it was good friends,
Love, happiness,
Feeling safe,
Doing what you're passionate about,
No matter what.

It turns out I've become successful
In the way you always thought
Success was meant to be.

I have money coming in,
A secure job (that I like),
I'm making a lot of this money stuff too
People are liking my writing,
Even if most of it is about my disgust with you.

And I'm pretty close
To being my definition of successful.
I'm not in love,
But maybe one day.
I'm happy most days.
I have friends and family
That love me more than you ever did.

I hope you're doing well.
Just know that I'm doing better.

Life isn't a competition,
But I'm still winning.

I feel sick and empty right now,
But that's my anxiety from the rain.
As it pours down,
I realize that I'm so much better off now
Than I ever was when you held my hand,
When I could say you were part of me.

You're so much like you're father, from what I've been told.
Your biological one.
Everyone used to say that I was so much like your mother.
That's probably why we didn't work.

And I'm happier this way,
Because I'd rather be alone for awhile
Than be with someone that
Lies consistently
About everything.

The definition of success
Isn't money.
And it isn't love, either.

It's enjoying your short time here on Earth
Without letting toxic entities
Get to you.

I didn't do too hot a job at that before,
But I'm doing better now.

"I was kinda hoping you'd"
Swallow down the fear,
Keep your head up,
"stay?"

Sheepish grins
And awkward shuffling of feet.

Body language,
And touching of shoulders
Arms
Wrists
Hands.

I spent my summer
Trying to get better,
And I've got to be honest,
I think I'm really getting there.

So when you ask me what I want,
What's going on,
It's stupid
But
All I wanna say is
"I was kinda hoping you'd stay?"

Find me somewhere
Between
What you say
And what you
Mean.

Find me somewhere
Behind
What you see
And what you
Find.

I am found in the darkest
Spaces
Of what you think and what have you
Within good graces.

You are the sunshine,
And I am the grey.
I am the night time,
And you are the day.

And if I gave what light I have,
To bask in yours endlessly,
I would give it up gratefully,
To be yours entirely.

Why am i so far
away
constantly?

I cannot
always breathe
or always think
or always feel

and I am not
one to disassociate
when there's still something worth
associating with.

but I ask why,
why am I like this?
why do I hide
curl into a ball
sob incoherently.

when I know perfectly well
why.

you curl into a ball to protect your face
to hide your vulnerable parts
loud noises make me flinch
loud voices make it worse.

conflict sends me spiraling
I can see my carefully
constructed
sanity
slipping away.

I'm a fraud.
I construct fallacies.
falsehoods about being sane
and good
and kind.

about having a moral compass
that always points north of wrong.

I am cruel within my judgments
I am jealous and snarky.

I am quick to jump
to conclusions
and assumptions.

I cry too easy,
I anger too quickly.

I am an unstable inferno,
either constantly burning at a calm lull
or blazing and consuming
all in my path.

I am a storm siren,
and within the rain and winds
that bring the fall of man,
watch the chaos
descend.

and if only/
if only/
the woodpecker sang
the bark on this tree
was just a little bit softer

if only/ if only
sang the wolf from below.

I would like
the rain
to stop.

I will always be too much for some people.
I will always be too emotional.
Too affectionate.
Too clingy.
Too needy.

I will always not be enough for some people.
I don't emote enough.
I don't display enough affection.
I don't touch enough.
I don't articulate enough.

I will always be too much.
Too damaged.
Too guarded.
Too cold.
Too paranoid.

I will always be too much.
Too strong.
Too opinionated.
Too passionate.
Too forgiving.

I will always be too much for some people,
But I'd like to think that maybe
For you,
I am just enough.

I have scars etched across my skin
like raindrops that drizzled down and stained
the yellowing pages of your notebook.

I don't like talking about the black outs,
where my mind goes,
what's left of me.

I don't like talking about what triggers them,
or who I am after I come to.

but these scars are physical reminders
of memories I never got to remember.

and every time you kiss them
I think to myself
"maybe even that part of me,
whoever she is,
deserves to be loved too."

and I wonder if looking
at my hands and arms
makes you sad,
or if feeling the raised skin
makes you uneasy
but either way

I love when you kiss my scars
and make me whole.