The First person I loved, well, really, it was a childhood crush. It shouldn't have meant anything, it shouldn't have mattered. At least that's what I told myself over and over (and over and over and over and over). But at that  time, my life was the brewing, churning clouds before the storm settles in and stays for awhile, painting the sky a putrid yellow-gray, filled with all sorts of worry and dismay. But he  cared, and he was my friend, and I actually mattered to someone. That's what draws you in, isn't it? Mattering? And then you fall for the way they laugh and hold themselves, and the way they interact with others and how they hold their head up and the fire that burns in their eyes. That fire that keeps burning, even when it's raining. Even when you know something is off, something is terrible, but even if you asked, they wouldn't tell.

The Second person I loved, well, I never really loved him at all. Call it a type of Stockholm syndrome. You get ****** into friendship and obsessed with the idea of being normal, so you try it out. And then you don't act right, you don't behave how they want, you don't do what they want you to do, or you just look at them the wrong way or talk to the wrong person. And then it hurts and you try to escape, for two and a half years out of four and half. And it leaves you broken. You're not able to love the same way you thought you were supposed to, you're more guarded. You break down when people touch you, hug you. Another boy tries to kiss you and you immediately burn the bridge. It takes you a year and a half to recover enough to go out with anyone.

The Third person I loved was different. She was different entirely. After being in the midst of a quickly deteriorating abusive relationship, it's easy to cling onto anything that looks like a lifeline. And that's unhealthy. But I loved her nonetheless. And she hurt me, and I hurt her. I will always regret it, and I will always be sorry. I hold no anger towards her, and when I think of her, it's like a phantom-pain. There's nothing there to hurt, but I know it should. And why shouldn't it? She was the type of girl that would leave any man breathless and dying. Everything I wanted to be. She was beautiful and confident and bold. She was smart and interesting and fun. But she was selfish, and she was a liar. And in the end, it was her beauty that destroyed her, and us, whatever type of friends we were. That ended before the Second.

The Fourth person I loved was a foolish decision. A mistake that I made, but I made it, and it's mine to own up to. I was vulnerable and my mind was fragile, but I fell anyway. I needed an escape, so I used love as an excuse. And he broke me. I honestly believe he took pleasure in that. In breaking me in so many ways. He knew about all the different ways I had been hurt and used, and he hurt and used me anyway, in new and "improved" ways. I fell, and he let me fall, trying to "cushion" the blow of my harsh landing back into reality with syrupy sweet lies and rocks with sharpened edges like "You're the only person I want to be about forever," and "You're more beautiful than the sunrise." while simultaneously reminding me constantly how damaged I am and how he doesn't care to help with it. What he didn't know is that the sun always sets. And I'm glad it did.

And Again, the last person I'll ever love like this, is the First. I fell in love with the way he smiled and the way he interacts. I took flight and dove headfirst into this love instead of falling when I saw the fire in his eyes. And it was no longer that I mattered to him, to tell you the truth, I still have trouble telling if I matter to him now. As I've said, I just don't love the same way anymore. No, I love the way he is gentle when it's difficult to be, or the way he laughs, or reacts. The way he's not afraid to apologize, but is always honest. I will always love the fire in his eyes, and the way it never goes out.

I listen to our song
When nobody's home.
I play it loud
And sing every word
Until I feel better.
Until I don't miss you so much.

I threw on your hoodie
This morning
After washing my hair
In cold sink water.
It smelled like fire.
Now it just smells like you.

I'm bundled in our blankets,
Holding your bathrobe close in my arms.
Because being away from you
Is much more painful
And much more emotional
Than I had thought.

I'm fixing dinner
And it feels lonely
Only cooking for one person.
It feels sad
Only making enough soup
For myself.

I listen to our song
On repeat as I drift off to sleep.
I play it loud,
And hum every word
Until I feel better.
Until I don't miss you so much.

I still miss you
So much.

Close your eyes,
Open your mouth.
Count how many lies
Come spilling out.

You always said
I was more of a friend
But then I spoke the truth,
And you marked me as condemned.

I was never really your daughter,
Right?
You held my head under the water,
Right?
Got my soul ready for the slaughter,
Right?

Well, no, not tonight.
I just might
Have a little more fight,
A little more spite,
A little less bark
A little more bite.

You wonder why I'm this way?
So filled with pain, so filled with rage?
You took my childhood and you let it decay,
You took my pain and put it on a stage,
Taking my story
Away from me,
Twisting my tragedy
Into your comedy.

Listen to the howling wind,
Watch my light as it begins to dim,
As my breathing begins to thin.
You ripped me apart, limb from limb,
Left my pseudo-body dead and mostly skinned.

You never knew the truth,
It got taken from you
In your youth.
You never knew the truth,
It was ripped from your gums like a rotting tooth.

Mama, did you ever love me?
Did you ever love anybody?
Why did you leave me so bloodied?
Why must you muddy
Every chance you have
At helping anybody?

Father, did you ever care?
Was life always about
Earning more than your fair share?
Things only matter
If they play on your despair,
And I'm sorry, but that game gets us nowhere.

Was I ever more than a tool?
An object to be used?
A being to be abused?

I would be playing a fool
If my eyes held more fire
Than this calm cool.

It's hard to convince myself not to care,
Apparently it's just so unfair
That my heart is so threadbare,
That my nerves only know of scares,
But you never cared,
None of this was ever for my welfare.
You twisted me with your psychological warfare,
Bringing me to my knees
As I screamed
"No one should ever care!!"
But now my name is simply a prayer,
A prayer from your lips
That will fall into the cold,
And as your eyes grow old,
It will go unanswered.
The last thing you will hear
Will be the tapping steps
Of Death's dancer.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He left me on my best friend's front porch step
Six months and thirty two days ago.
And looking back,
I couldn't be happier.

And they say that breaking up is kind of like a competition,
Who can lose more weight, be in a better mindset, accomplish more,
Within the span of time that they are single and if it continues through not being single.

And being with him,
I lost twenty pounds from not eating
Because I felt afraid to leave the room
Or the house
And I felt afraid
Of him.

I went to the hospital weighing
110 lbs.

I am now at a healthy weight again,
But my dresses still don't fit right,
They're a little too loose in the waist,
But I'm still full in my hips
And full in my chest.

It was like a divorce,
And he got custody of all our friends
And my toaster.
But they weren't real friends
If they chose him and him alone.

Blind as bats, and just as crazy.

I was a mess when he left, I'm being honest.
And before that, I was a mess too.

But I'm better now.

I'm better and I'm stronger and I can stand on my own two feet
And not let a vapid, controlling, womanizer
Get me down.

I am better than I ever was
Before I met him,
And I am better, a thousand times more
Than I was when he left me.

And I am so thankful,
So grateful,
That he left the way he did
And that he left at all.

I was a shell of a human,
But I am better now.
Small accomplishments and pride in my work and myself.

He's dating the poor thing he cheated on me with.

And I couldn't be happier for them.

I have love in my heart I had held onto for so long,
And I can finally give it to you, because I know you deserve it,
And I can stand with you against the world
As a united front against whatever may come.

Because I am strong, resilient, and ethereal.

Because I am braver now, stronger now, better now.

You picked
A blue bloodstone
When you were younger.
You didn't know what it was,
You probably still don't.

You gave it to me
Along with a dyed blue agate.

It's funny,
Don't you think?

Bloodstone was worn by warriors
Into battle
Because they were of the school of thought
That it would aid in healing wounds more rapidly,
And that it would heal the mind as well.

So I wear it in a spiral cage
On a chain around my neck,
Hoping to hone that healing light-energy,
So that I may heal and be healed in turn.

Blue Goldstone
Is what I'm giving to you.
It provides protection against any type of harm,
And it will light your path from all things frightening.

People of Norse, Irish, and Germanic decent
Used to give it to their children
Who feared the dark.

Please,
Take the crystallized galaxy
Within it's spiral cage,
And come home to me,
Safe and sound.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Walking home in the rain,
Carrying the groceries in one hand,
And a fallen leaf in the other.

Pulling up the hood of my mother's raincoat,
I take a minute to sit on a bench
While rain keeps pouring from above.

I stare at the leaf,
And then the sky,
And I realize,
This place isn't my home
Anymore.

I always thought
My home would be a familiar place,
But it's not.

I always thought
Home would be where my parents were,
Where my brothers and sisters were,
Where I've grown up,
And the place my friends live.

But I was wrong.

So just like how
Fall shows you that letting things go
Can be beautiful,
I need to let this place go
Too.

This just isn't my home
Anymore.

My home is a laugh,
A smile,
Warm arms around me
After tears and nightmares.

I care too much,
I get hurt too easily.
Fall too quickly.
This isn't my home anymore.

My home isn't a familiar place,
Rather a familiar face.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Some girls are made of empathy and smudged, dried ink.

some girls are stitched from red yarn and thick black thread.

some girls are filled with the taste of blood in your mouth and slick, jagged, icy walls.

some girls are built from the emptiness of heartache and longing.

some girls are made of foreign colors, scotch, and the clacking of a typewriter.

those are the girls that look into the fire and show no fear.

those are the girls that try to save the monsters instead of running from them in terror.

those are the girls who are not used to their hair being brushed gently from their ears, or being told by anyone but themselves that they're worthwhile.

those are the girls who believe they're only worth being loved as long as they earn their keep. They're only "permanent" for as long as they are useful.

those are the girls who flinch when you move too swiftly, too close to them. Those are the girls who shudder and shake when you get too loud and too personal.

remind them they are worthwhile. Remind them they are permanent. Remind them it's okay.

with some girls, you won't regret it.

I love each and every part of you,
Piece by piece,
Atom by atom.

I fall deeper into this darkness,
And as it tries to consume my every thought,
I feel your nails digging into my wrist,
Your fingers only tightening your grip.

I'm coming undone,
All the progress I've made,
Slipping through the cracks
In my surface.

Most people can't feel anything
When they get this way.

But I feel everything.

And even though I feel
Burdensome
And
Unwanted,

I also feel
An intense love for you,
Even still.

I just want you to hold me closer,
To hold my hand even when it's over.

These medications let me sleep through the night,
But they also make me want to sleep through the day.
I'm sorry I can't be better
In any way.

But I know you only hold on tighter,
And I know you just want me to get better,
But I'll never be 100%.
I'll never be entirely okay or normal,
Just as close as modern medicine
Can get.

But maybe if I let myself trust you,
Maybe if I open back up,
I can still be the me
That you fell in love with.

Or maybe I'll just fall apart,
Piece by piece,
Atom by atom.

"Precious, brave little bird, it's not you, it's never you, it's me."

And that was the kindest way
Anyone's ever left me.
There was no looking me in the eyes,
There were no disputes in color--
A simple text in white font,
Explaining everything without the words needed.

I was too much,
And they felt they were too little.

People walk out of my life all the time.
There's a lot of temporary people
That stumble upon me,
With no intention of staying or being honest.
But I'm a permanent type of person--
So let me tell you, we don't often mix well.

But it was different upon her exit,
Because I know she intended to stay--
But life doesn't always work out that way.
And I wonder if she knew
That she was one of the best people
I had ever met.

And somewhere inside my heart,
Where I have etched all across the walls in
Calligraphy much more beautiful than my own handwriting,
"Please be strong; Please be brave."
I have also hidden away parts of myself
That will forever be
Her brave little bird.

I'm a lunatic,
Driven mad by the phases of the moon.
As the moon grows to full
I find myself manic,
As it grows to new,
I find myself becoming dysphoric.

I can feel facade
Slipping
I can feel the veil
Ripping

They say to fear those whose eyes
Grow dark like pools of midnight,
And to cower from those
Who have no fear for fire.

Understand my midnight eyes
Have never once feared a flame.

And though it was a fumble of my tongue,
I once told a priest during confession,
"Forgive me father, for I am sin."
And never have accidental words been so true.

Drive me insane by the moonlight,
And I'll love and live in eternal night.

I am hyper aware
That my skin is cold
That I am not being touched.
I am uncomfortable
Like my skin is crawling.
It's almost like when I am being touched,
Because I hate when people touch me.
But instead of wanting to rip my skin off my bones,
It's like I don't even have skin to begin with.

I want to be held by you,
Loved by you.
I want your kiss to quench my thirst,
And your hands to hush my growling stomach.

I am skin-starved,
Touch-starved,
And it's making me drift away.
And I don't want to be far away,
But I know that I already am.

I need your love,
Your heart,
To help anchor me back down,
So that I can stay.
So that I don't
Drift away into volatile nothingness.

It would be raining,
And I would have my head low,
And I really probably should,
But I can't.

And I feel the fever
Boiling my blood,
And maybe I'm just a hopeless romantic,
But I want to hear kind words off your lips,
And I want to hear how well you know me,
And I want you to love me
How I love
You so.

And due to my own
Logic and equations,
Numbers look the same,
But I know the outcome will be different.

I have to breathe
And tell myself
The outcome will be different.

I see patterns,
And maybe I'm wrong to be seeing what I see
But it scares
The ******* out of me.

(And trust me, I know hell is ******)

Tears sting at my eyes,
But I bite them back,
Because I can really feel
The cold of the distance between us,
And maybe it's just fear,
But I am cold and
Craving to be held.

But with each response
You send to me,
And each time I read the kindness
Behind your words,
My heart gets a little lighter,
And the night gets a little brighter,
And my wings slowly
Unfurl.

Today has been a hard day,
And a bad day,
But I hope desperately
That you could help this night be
A little better.

I want to unfurl my wings
And take off,
Fly away,
Fast and swiftly
With you at my side.

This fever is making
My thoughts and words
A little broken,
A little disjointed.

Who cares?

Maybe I don't.

I just miss you,
I guess.

The fire in your eyes
Burns ultraviolet.
The way you weave through galaxies
And resuscitate dying stars,
Makes me want to try it.
Because you're burning me up
With your ultraviolet
Eyes.
You're the common sense
To my chaos theory.
You're the very depth
Of all that's dear to me.
I just can't fight it.
I love you,
And your ultraviolet
Eyes.

My battery was at
94%.

Today it's at
7%.

I used the majority of it
To talk to you about your day,
And listen to your laugh.

I'm waiting on a cord
And maybe a text.
I don't mind waiting,
It's not the worst thing to have happen.

I kind of miss you.
And by kind of I mean really.

This is strange for me
I don't like getting attached.
I don't mind it so much with you.

I was once told
"We need never be hopeless."

And it is true. Things get better.

I was also once told
"Please be strong, please be brave."
I thought it was some type of warning,
That things would get worse.

I have never been happier
To be wrong.

Thank goodness
For Bluebirds.

A sensation
Of cold air
Shivering
Chattering teeth.

I'm back sitting by the chain link fence,
Waiting for them to pick teams for dodgeball,
Or basketball,
Or what was it?
"Fred" ball?

I remember looking for you.
Wondering where you'd gone.

It was overcast,
I could smell the rain coming in.
First time I realized,
It was late in fall that I remembered,
Snow had a smell.

And dragons and dogs and animals filled our days at school,
We played games, different name, same game of tag over and over
When at home I'd go back to the screaming,
To the cold,
To the hunger.
A girl and her dog,
Wondering what her friends were up to.

Black outs and ****** paper clips
Turned to livid men and bruised abdomens and hips.

And every other month,
During September and January,
I wondered what would have happened if I had
Given you that valentine I threw away.

I want to tell you so many things,
But how do I tell you,
How do I tell you
I care more than
I knew.

I was shivering when I got home,
Teeth clattering,
Bad day,
Tears in my eyes.

I put on my nightgown,
Your sweatshirt,
And wrapped myself in a blanket,
Wanting to hear back from you.

Is it odd
That I don't know how to say
You've made my day.
I hope you know
I was okay without you,
But part of me is a little (a lot)
More whole by your side.

And sometimes I think of your laugh,
Then and now,
And I remember
The butterflies then,
And the warmth now.

And it's just ******* crazy,
Because I was a little bird,
With a broken wing.
Who was convinced I couldn't fly.

You were the bluebird of peace,
I had been searching for
For so long.

And I could listen
To your voice
Your heartbeat
Your words
All day.

I don't know what this means,
But it's easier by your side,
Than any place I've ever lived,
Any halfway house I've ever been.

I've always wanted to belong,
And finally I can see
The problem wasn't me.
It was a me without a you.

Tonight I want to dream
Of spiraling sunset red and soft oranges
Draped over a background of
The most beautiful seafoam blues and greens
I've ever come to know.

She calls me "little bird",
Because when I'm stressed or nervous
I walk on my tip-toes,
With my arms slightly raised,
Like a bird that's about to take off.
Like I'm not meant to be on the ground for too long.

He called me "bluebird"
Because I bring happiness
Wherever I go,
Apparently.
Peace is in my nature,
Hope is in my tone.

They called me "Blackbird"
Because I sing songs so sweet
And hauntingly beautiful,
But I'm so lost
And misunderstood by most.

I am a little bird,
In a cage
With a broken wing
But I'm okay.

She calls me "little bird"
Because I am small,
But I have a lot to say.
A lot to sing.

I'll fly again.

I'm not so put together,
As I may seem.

And I'm sorry that you had to see
The torn up parts of me.

But know if you see me shivering,
It's not because I'm cold.

If you see me shaking,
It's the excitement coursing through
My veins.

And if I tremble,
Do not fret,
It's just that I crave
Your lips upon mine,
And I want to laugh with you
Until my side hurts
And I can't feel my face.

And if I tremble,
Do not fear,
It's just that I yearn
To be part of your heart,
And I want to be wrapped in your arms
Until the world disappears.

If I tremble
At your touch,
Know it's not for fear,
Rather love.

What do you call this feeling?
being not so entertained by the game,
but your presence
to the point of loving to spend time
with you as you play.

feeding you little candies
(caramel, sour patch kids, mango hi-chews)
while you play

discussing silly things
like which parts of each other
we love
and kissing
and "fight me" fights.

talking and laughing and the usual
"what am I gonna do with you?"
from you to me
and my usual
"marry me? Have kids with me?"

and your new "well, that's a given."

it's all I could want
and more than I've ever asked for.

your eyes are art,
the light in them fills me up,
the warmth in them breathes life into me.

and finally,
I am me
and I am free,
because my freedom was within you
all along.

I love every part of you,
from the messing with your hair,
to the light of your eyes
to my legs with yours,
intertwined.

I have never
Been considered
"Good enough".

A thing I have struggled with
My entire life.

I have never
Been considered
"Good."

By the people
Who supposedly make those judgments.

But who am I?
To live my life by judgments
Of others
Who are not in my head,
And who were not there for the events
That have made me who I am.

Because those that matter
Will stay,
Will listen,
Will hear me out
In the darkest depths
Of my darkest moments.

They will understand
My defense mechanisms
Of hostile sarcasm
And quiet tears that come too often.

I close my eyes,
And remember a voice,
Remember a smile,
A laugh,
And everything slows and calms
Rather rapidly.

And I am in love
And I am happy,
And I am okay.

My Bluebird
Loves me,
And I am not alone,
Despite the feelings the nightmares haunt me with.

And darkness,
Sick and strange,
Tries to creep inside my mind,
And I will fight it off.
As I am good,
And that in itself is good enough.

Destructive,
But beautiful.

The outcome is annoying,
Irritating,
Frustrating,
Tear-provoking,
But ethereal,
At times.

I am a Storm Siren,
I call upon the chaotic ways of nature
To bring forth necessary damage and carnage
In order to inspire growth
And new life,
New perspectives.

I do so subconsciously,
I draw in winds
And thunder and lightning,
The destructive nature
Of rain and floods.

My lightning,
However frightening
Causes fire,
And my thunder,
Will pierce your eardrums.

My rain will drown your sins
With flood waters,
And my winds will
Tear the memory
From your skin.

And I despise my storms,
Because they personify myself,
But I'd rather be a storm,
Than a drizzle.

And I know one day
You'll find me in this storm
I call home,
And put roots in
So together we may grow,
Despite flood waters
And lightning.

And one day
You'll hold me,
And I swear your arms and colors
Are the key to halting
The winds and the thunder,
Because within your arms,
There's only a faint
Whisper
Of the pitter-patter
Of rain.

And when I hear your voice,
I am cleansed of the burning feeling
The fire gives.
Relief is sweeter
Than any pain.

And my heart aches
For your hand
To hold.

Dismember the parts of my heart
And lobes of my brain
I am different
Yet I am the same.

I am the drip drip drop
I am the same sky
There's fire in my blood,
What am I?

I am the same scarf
Torn apart and into shreds
How many times?
I am a place to sleep, not a bed.

I am one thousand years
Of watching the world stop spinning,
I am the retrograde of memories,
I am the pain in your face from continuous grinning.

I am the falter in your heartbeat,
Due to love and all it implies,
I am found between Praecipua and Spica,
What am I?

I'm lost within the breath of the trees,
Found only by your eyes,
And the sincerity within your words.

Spinning webs of thought,
Each silken thread weaving into yet another web and another and another
Pull me closer and away from the webs
Belonging to my spider of a mind
That will swallow me whole.

And on every drive with you
Where the blue sky is overtaken by royal  violets and navy blue
I count the stars until I can't feel my sunset eyes,
And all I can dream of is the way your hand feels in mine.

And I hope you don't mind,
But the starscape has devoured me entirely,
And maybe I'm just a heavenly body
Drifting through lilac fog
Hoping to bring you back a little sanity
And a little soul.

Because you ignite fires in me
Within the very depths of my soul
And I only hope to return the favor.

Thinking too much,
Will be the death of me.

It already
Almost was,
A few years back.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But it hurts to think
They thought I needed them.

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

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

Whatever.
Thinking too much.

I laugh a lot,
I cry a lot,
And I yell a lot.

But I'm okay.

I don't sleep as much as I should,
And I don't eat as often as I probably should.
And I'm not great at offering up information.

But if you can handle that,
If you can handle me,
I see no reason as to why
We should not try.

Because I love you the way cats love sunbathing,
And I'll reach for you the way flowers reach for the sky.
And I love you the way the moon loves the tides,
And I'll search for you the way we search for stars.

You say it's a vision of the past
That I keep seeing
I say it's my biggest character flaw.

I trust in patterns and statistics
More than I trust in people.

I am emotional
But logical
And it makes sense
To watch me fail
But failure is not the option
I'm choosing.

You are the light
I've found
Within my darkness
That I trudge through.

You are the sunshine
That I chase,
The rainbow
I trace
On my window.

I've run after you,
Waited for you,
Subconsciously
Sometimes consciously
My entire life.

You are the person,
The being
The thing
I have yearned and longed for.

All my life
I have been let down
Put down
And finally
You are who I've been searching for.

I always thought it was some type
Of fantasy
Child's dream,
Ending up with the boy
I loved for the very first time,
And now finally,
Finally I realize

You do not follow your dreams.
No, dreams are meant to be chased down and ran after.

And now
Instead of chasing you down,
I can walk side by side with you
For the rest of time.

You see where we're different,
But I see where we're not.

And maybe that's a dangerous way to be,
But I think my ****** bleeding heart would rather go out this way.

Don't you see where we're the same, too?

We all live by the same philosophies,
Protect what is ours.

But what if we protected each other?
What if we were kind of kind to one another?

Show empathy and understanding,
Humans are much too wrapped up in being
"Individuals"
That we'd rather be bad and cruel and knock each other down
Than be the kind of individuals
We actually need.

And in our misunderstanding
Of each other and our similarities,
It saddens me to say,
We become even more
The same.

Put ice on your wrists,
Or wherever the scars usually appear,
And hold it for five to ten minutes,
The urge should disappear,
Along with the sensation in your veins
The signals to you
That you're about to black out.

If you don't have ice,
Apply pressure with your hands.
Bonus points if they're cold.

Don't allow yourself to become too aware
Of the blood in your veins.

Breathing exercises help too,
And while you're at it try grounding yourself.

Count how many things you can see up to five.
Then count four things you can hear.
Three you can touch,
Two you can smell,
And one you can taste.

Make a list of what calms you,
Make a list of what gives you bliss,
See how many things go between each.

Talk  yourself down,
Remind yourself you can't do this.
Remind yourself you have to remember.

Don't focus on the trigger.
Forget it,
Quickly.

Distract yourself.
Something you can hear-- Music.
Something you can taste-- Gum.
Something you can feel-- Your lion.
Something you can smell-- His sweatshirt.
But what do you focus on?

You can't seem to find a fixed point to keep your eyes on,
And the threat of a black out is receding,
But why did it start?

You can't even remember what set you off.

Your hands are soaked.
The ice cubes melted on your wrists.

I don't fit
Very well
With most people.

I am shy, and sweet.
Strange and terrifying.
Small and delicate.

I am something that
Most people do not know
How to love.

And that's okay.

I don't need their love.

I don't need to fit.

*But, God, do I want to.

Tell me you love me,
Tell me you want me around.

Tell me I'm all the things
You've ever desired.

And I will show you
A steadfast commitment,
A hotheaded opinion,
And a stubborn will to do my best by you.

Show me that you'll love me for forever and day,
Show me that you want to keep me around.

Show me that I'm everything
You've ever desired.

And I'll tell you
Of my being loyal to a fault,
All my passionate opinions,
And of my headstrong way about sticking around.

I don't give up,
It's never been for me,
So tell me
Tell me you're the same,
And we'll show the world.

It's hard to shake off the self hatred and loathing that comes
post-panic attack,
and it's hard to work with what remains
of your brain
when you're trying to fight off the flashback.

and it's hard to keep yourself
from thinking about it too much,
and it's hard to get yourself
to socialize.

but on a lazy Friday afternoon,
you're playing video games,
and I'm menstruating and craving
affection
skin to skin contact
mental stimulation
and various candies.

and I'd be a little more content
if my stomach wasn't growling in furious rage
at that.

but your focused eyes
and my appreciation for your
everything
is giving me a kind of hope
that I can be the kind of better
that you want.

Dear my Bluebird,

Tonight I wrote letters to those who have left me somewhat less than before, and one to another who has helped me put myself back together again.

Tonight I realized that that's okay, because what they took are not things that could not be replaced or renewed or bettered.

I know the subjects of pt. 1 and pt. 3 will upset you. I know you dislike the people they are addressed to. And I do not blame you. There's no reason for you to like them, especially as I have been left in the condition I have been left in.

I also know you will read this in the morning.

But I love you. I hope you know that your kindness and protective nature is something so new and beautiful to me. I hope you know that I appreciate you and everything you are and that you do. I also hope you know that I find you brave and brilliant. Hearing you speak about anything that fascinates you, really, stimulates a part of my heart that has never found so much joy in hearing another human being be.

I might not sleep tonight, but I might not have to. As long as I remember the feeling of your fingers intertwined with mine, some type of peace will be found tonight.

Yours truly,
your Hummingbird

I hope you read this,
Because I hope you're driving safely.

I hope you read this,
And know that I love you.

And music plays in the back of my head,
And I try to remember the song,
I believe it was Buddy Holly by Weezer which played on
July 4th, on the way to the restaurant we met up with your family at,
That also was playing today I think on the way to breakfast/lunch.

I Miss You by Blink 182 has a tendency to play
When we're in the car together as well.

"Hello there,
Angel from my nightmare"
Seems a little accurate,
I think.

I hope you're driving safely,
I hope you make it home safe and sound.

I hope you read this mainly because
I know you're going to read it.

My days are filled with color
And bright lights.
I see them everywhere,
And people try to attribute it
To some kind of mental illness
Or problem.

And while my head
Is basically
Alphabet soup,
These colors I see
Have nothing to do with
The reason I take
Multicolored pills
Every day
At various times.

Some days are red,
And others are green.
Some are pink
And today is grey.
My best days are blue,
And white rarely occurs.
Orange is a bad day
And yellow days are the worst.

Black days fill me with dread,
And on brown days, I'd rather disappear.

Gauge me on my colored days,
To help figure out how I feel.

I met you on a blue day.
And fell for you on the same,
And how astonishing it is
How these colors used to cause me pain,
But you seem to light up this darkness,
So I may see them
Clearly.

I'll count the scars
Scattered across my hands and arms
And hips and stomach
Instead of the stars that drift across
The sky.

I'll count the scars I have,
Most caused by me,
Some caused by others,
And I'll dream of a time
I was a clean slate,
A time I was better than I am now,
And I'll get better.
I promise I'm getting better.

And if your lips
Can grace my scars,
Then maybe I can have the nerve
To count stars
Instead of scars.

Sometimes,
Usually at the worst times,
It becomes painfully obvious,
How very different we are.

You're never going to love me
The way I love you.
And I'm never going to be the
Type of sane, the type of stable
That you want.

It isn't that we're not compatible.
It isn't that we don't love each other.

It is simply that
We are very, very different.

I realized this last night.

From our interactions.
From you barely showing affection.
Ftom you only kissing my lips five times since you got home.
From your reluctancy to provide me comfort.

From how the words "I love you" and "I need you" and "I want you around"
Kept getting caught in my throat
And instead came out
As mangled "I'm sorry"'s.

Because I am sorry.
I'm sorry I have loved you for so long.
I am sorry that I desire a love and affection from you
That it seems you cannot give.
That, at the very least, you cannot give to me.

I am sorry for trying to force my way through your walls.
I am sorry for trying to make you love me
The way I love you.
That was too much to ask.

I am sorry for relying on you.
I am sorry for trying to make you care for me
More than anyone really should.

I am sorry about all the problems I've given you.
All the pain I've caused.

I am sorry.

I can assure you, it will not happen again.

Lace pastel pink dress
With a high collar.
It buttons in the back,
So there's a keyhole cut out.

Little brown
Wicker heeled
Sandals.

Silver chain,
Butterfly locket,
With a movie ticket inside.

My toe nails
And finger nails
Are painted black
As night.

The top of the dress
Conforms to my hourglass
Figure,
And the bottom of the dress
Flows out.

A golden ring given to me
By my mother
On my finger,
Studded with diamonds
Or some stone that is similar.

I am feminine,
I am soft.

Sometimes I am fragile,
But do not ever mistake
My being feminine
For my being weak.

Weak is not a world
You could accurately use
To describe me.

Today,
For about an hour,
I'll be going back to a town
That strikes fear into my core.

Over top my lace dress,
I will wear my Bluebird's sweatshirt,
The one with his last name on the back,
So that all will know the scowl on my face,
Is not marked by any circumstances
Other than those unfortunate souls who reside in the town.

I will be elegant,
Ethereal,
And stronger
Than steel.

Will you love me
when you figure out
I'm not as perfect as you thought?

will you love me when the panic
keeps me from breathing?

like right now?

will you love me
when I cry for no apparent reason?

will you still love me
on the days
I'm more broken than usual?

will you love me
when I try to mend the hurt
parts of you
with all the love I have in me?

will you love me still?

when I am old and grey?

will you love me
when my tattoo fades?

will you love me
still?

I miss you the way the sun misses the sky,
The way the moon misses the tides.

I miss you the way roots miss the ground,
The way those lost miss being found.

I miss you the way a wolf misses it's pack,
The way a performer misses the act.

I miss you the way birds miss flight,
The way a blind synesthete misses sight.

I miss you the way lungs miss air,
The way one's heart misses care.

I miss you the way bees miss plants,
I'd tell you all the ways I miss you,
But I can't.

I long for your hands
In mine to hold,
And I long for your heart beside mine,
As we grow old.

And while fourteen days,
Is all that stands between us--
I know that this love, this life,
Will be more than I've ever dreamed of.

I'm not so great
At being strong
And I'm not the best
At fighting back,
But give me a reason,
Love,
Give me a reason.

I've lived through things
That break most men,
And I've seen things
Much too dark
And gruesome
For eyes so wide.

But I'd live through it
A thousand times
Over again
To hold your hand.

And I'm not one for risking myself,
But I'd risk it all,
To be by your side.

And if your being happy
Meant watching hellfire eat away
At parts of me
Which I never really even claimed to have,
Then let the fire burn away at my flesh.

But luckily enough,
Your being happy means running my fingers through your hair,
And scratching your head as you fall asleep on my lap.

And luckily enough,
Being yours doesn't mean going through hell and back,
But it rather means the warmth of the heavens,
And the light I've never known myself to have.

I'm not much for sunshine,
But if you were a ray of sun,
And it was overcast,
I'd bask in your warmth
For all eternity.

I'm not one for rainstorms.
But if you were a rain drop,
And it were drizzling,
I'd beg for a downpour.

You keep me awake at night,
Your chirping siren song.

You keep me awake at night,
With lore of fae and goddesses.

You keep me awake at night,
All the memories of the things you did
That I never asked you to.

You keep me awake at night,
You and your hypocrisy.
You and your lies,
You and your foul mouthed fallacies.

You keep me awake at night,
With the guilt that isn't mine
That you gave me.

You keep me awake at night,
You and your use of my misfortune as ammo.

You keep me awake at night,
Your beady eyes and chirping voice.

You keep me awake at night,
So I guess it's time to get out of bed,
And squash some crickets.

Dear My Never,

It can be summed up easily, I never loved you. Every part of us, of you torturing me and my pretending it was all okay and I was just so in love and everything is alright because teenage heartache is beautiful--

It was *******. I hated you. Every second. And then it became some sick type of Stockholm Syndrome, where I felt connected to the peer pressure and the safety of knowing if I was still "under your spell" I could still be allowed to breathe.

Five years. Technically 4.6 years. But still, math aside, I hate you. Five years I wasted my life because peer pressure and societal norms convinced me what you did was normal.

But the indifference I feel towards you rings stronger than anything else I've ever felt. There's just nothing, and sometimes fear of the actions. Strange, but true.

Signed,
Glass half empty.

There is a distance
within my heart
there is a distance--
I keep you at arms length.

when all I desire
is to be within
your arms.

I'll show you the dark
twisted parts of me
the patterns I recognize.
but I can't show you the good parts.
I don't believe they'll last.

but you say
you want
to stay.

and right now
I believe that
you mean it.

and right now
I believe
that you will.

I'll never understand what happened.

I'll never quite get it.

Things changed so rapidly,
And I'll never quite understand how or when,
Or if I was even there at all to stop it.

In some ways,
You'll always be my mother.
In other ways,
You'll never be.

And as much as parts of me
Whole anger and resentment,
There will always be a larger,
Much more forgiving
Part of me
That does not.

That holds only love
And appreciation
For everything you did.

So go ahead,
Paint me black.
I will love you through it,
Because, well,
We both know
I used to be golden.

Loving someone so much creates an ache in your heart.

- Your chest is tightening due to the anxiety that floods your senses.

- You keep trying not to let stupid words trigger you worse than they have.

- You can't type to save your life because you're shaking too bad.

- You're trying to cook but you end up forgetting what you're doing because you're too distracted by blind hatred.

- Your brain is overwhelmed by its' malfunctioning chemicals and you're somehow still more stable than someone with less abbreviations.

- You find that so funny but you know it's even actually kind of terrible.

- You're so confused because you, the girl who literally said horrible vicious things to someone just so they'd hate you, so you could off yourself without guilt and so they wouldn't have to attend your funeral, thereby ending a friendship in the one of most painful and selfish ways possible, are somehow considered a good person.

- You go to confession multiple times and still don't feel forgiven.

- You remember your views align much more closely with Wicca than Catholicism, but you still call yourself Catholic.

- You just don't understand why people are so stupid.

- It would be laughable if it weren't for the fact that it's technically slander.

- You can't come up with anymore feels because you're disassociating. Oops

you're the other end
that tugs so tightly
on my red string of fate.

you're my soulmate, my one and only.

you once were so willing to help silence all the chaos in my head. all the loud of the world, and all the toxins that tried to leak into me from my past to turn me into the very same monsters.

but still

your laugh, your smile, it makes me bubble over with gratitude. when you are glad to be with me, when you know I love you, that warmth glows and glimmers in your irises as clearly as starlight in the very heart of the deepest woodlands during the darkest nights.

my lovely Bluebird of Peace, my valiant Archangel, you are my Anamchara.

you See me.

But You Are Colorblind.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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