The first time I fell in love
Would forever be the last.
I fell in love with the way you smile,
And the way your eyes seek mine,
In the light
In the dark
In the shroud of your colors,
All dark and grey from anger and hurt.

The first time I fell in love
Would forever be the last.
I fell in love with the way you laugh,
And the way my hand feels in yours.
The way your voice sounds when I'm afraid,
The way your voice sounds when I'm not.

I fell in love with the way you hold me,
And the not-quite-linear way you have of thinking.
I fell in love with the warmth of the fire in your
Ice cold eyes.

I fell for seafoam blues and greens, spirals of sunset reds and oranges.

I fell for a Bluebird of peace,
Who gave me peace
Before he found his.

But what they don't tell you about love
Is that it hurts.
It hurts and it aches,
The way I feel when you're here
But so far.
And it hurts
When I disappear
So far away
From you,
When I fall through your fingers
Like grains of too-soft sand.

The first time I fell in love
Would forever be the last.
I fell in love with you.
With the way you don't make it feel
Like the love I'm familiar with.
The type that is driven by control,
Possessiveness,  and stockholm syndrome.

I fell in love with the way you
Are you
And nobody else.

The first time I fell in love
Would forever be the last.
I fell in love with the way you smile,

Didn't anybody
Ever stop to tell you.
Star's are known to collapse,
So they can be reborn.

A star can't belong to anyone.
Something that dangerous, that wild.
It cannot be tamed.

Something that dark, that light,
Can not be held and confined within a human heart,
Or the heart will shatter
And the star will collapse.

And he has collapsed. And that's okay.
Because he has been reborn
As my Bluebird.
And I love my Bluebird
More than forever.
More than always.
More than the moon and stars.

Within the foliage,
And within the sunlight,
Will you find me?

And who am I to be?
Lost in curse words and violence,
My presence is small,
But my words are bigger than me.

I am but a simple thief,
Stealing your heart,
And sooner or later,
I'll take your last name
As mine as well.

Maybe I've seen too much,
Maybe I've bled too often.
But you are the reason
Hardship is nothing
To me.

I have enough faith,
Enough hope,
That the sun will come out
Sooner or later.

Sometimes I get so scared
That you only spend time with me
Out of obligation.

Sometimes I get so scared
That you only talk to me
Because you feel responsible for me.

I worry that I am no longer fun for you.
That I no longer light that spark in yiur heart.

It scares me so much
The idea that you've gotten sick of me.

I cannot breathe.

You're asleep,
And i'm cooking dinner,
And i listen to your thoughts
Whe you choose to speak them
Because i like hearing your worldview
And your voice levels me.

But sometimes i need to talk,
And i feel like i'm an annoyance
And whatevet excites me
Doesn't really
Matter

And it's that way with most.

I've had my likes called stupid
My confessions of triggers called cancer
So why should you
Hear me?

I'm falling into the
Just-because-it's-not-all-the-time-
It's-okay
Mindset
Again

­And that's not okay.

So my phone's battery is flashing,
and we're watching a movie I've seen a thousand times.
Anxiety's eating away at me
Because I want to make a good impression
and the thought of being in the town of
Leesburg scares me a lot.

But with you by my side,
And maybe a pen and paper
I think I'll make it just fine.

But the desire to hide under a blanket
And wish the world away
or at least that part of town,
is tempting.

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

And I remember
Days of packed bags
And the unknown,
And days of color
Or days of grey.
I remember every person,
Who never intended to stay.

If I breathe in the rain,
I can recall picking fights,
And my own wrong-doings,
But if I breathe out for too long,
It fades away like fog,
And I am left with the reasons I am strong.

And maybe today,
I remember the grey
And those who never intended
To stay.
But tomorrow is for color,
And all that I always wanted to do and say.

I've still got running away running through my veins,
But I've made the choice that I'm going to stay.

I have many fears.

I am afraid of the dark,
I am afraid of rain (or used to be),
I am afraid of abandonment,
I am afraid of who I am when I'm enraged and in a bad place.
Loud noises and yelling freak me out.
I don't like blood or knives running across flesh,
And things with too many legs scare me.

I don't like seeing people in any type of physical pain,
But I've put these fears aside many times.

I'm afraid of being left alone,
Without anything to my name,
Once more.

I'm afraid of investing myself
And it going to waste.
I'm afraid of showing a softer side of myself,
And it being rejected.

But here's a kind word,
And here's a loving gesture,
And here's the feeling of your hand on mine.

And suddenly I'm not scared.
I could do this.
If for you,
If for us,
I can stand up.
I can take the risk of falling,
Jump that cliff,
Spread my wings
And hope I fly,
Hope we fly.

And here I go,
Here I am,
I am flying because I took the risk of loving you,
Trusting you.

And I trust you.
Wholly and entirely,
And I hope and pray
Every ****** day,
That you'll take me as I am
And you have.

And I know I'm an odd one,
But the least I can do is show you
How much I care
Through words and
Metaphor.

But being brave
Has nothing to do with not being afraid.
Being fearless is for the idiotic.
Being brave is seeing the danger,
And going forward anyway.

If I had to take one lesson away from life, it would be that love conquers all. Now, I know that sounds corny, but please, hear me out. Love runs the world, whether it's platonic, romantic, selfless or selfish. Love is the motive for all things.

And most excitingly so, if you find the kind of selfless, end-all-be-all kind of romantic, best-friend-where-have-you-been-all-this-time kind of love, there's some stuff you have to know. It is almost impossible to find someone who feels the same way about you in a way that is even somewhat compatible with your way of thinking.

So when you find that type of love, when you fathom that feeling and find yourself having the burning desire to show it and act on it time and time again, drop everything. Let go of your preconceptions and inhibitions. Jump into it like you're blind to everything else. This is it. This is what everyone spends their time on Earth searching for, hoping for. And you've found it.

So you know all that guilt you hold on to, all that anxiety about everything you've ever done that is somewhat wrong? Let it go. And hold on to this love, this fresh start, this life-changing desire to be good for someone, like you've never held onto anything before in your life. Hold on as tight as you can, and never ever let it go. I promise it will still be there when you fall in.

Because I know this as a fact, when it's right, it's right. And this fantastic destiny, this beautiful serendipity, this red-string-of-fate theory, it all gets proven right with this. This is the reason it didn't work out with anyone else. This is it.

Are you holding on tight? Good. Now jump. Because if I know anything else about life, it's that if you wait until you're ready, you'll be waiting for the rest of your life.

If I were colder
I would be bolder
And if I were stronger
It would take longer
To break me apart.

But I am
Who I am
And I'd rather be me
Than anyone else.

For the friends that hold
My heart
Don't know of the part
They play
That keeps the darkness
At bay.

And my light
My love
Knows that I am his
And that he is mine,
And in time
I will be whole and healed.

Bleeding out the wound
Only makes the infection worse.
No one ever asks
"Why are you bleeding?"
They only ever demand that you apologize
For bleeding on their shirt.

Forget me
Just let me
Cry it out.

Forget me
Just let me
Cry it out.

The scars
On my hands and wrists
Are years old
And I've done nothing
To rid myself
Of them.

They're proof that I
Survived
Myself,
My greatest adversary.
My only antagonist
Is currently just me.
I'm my own worst
Enemy.

Forget me
Just let me
Bleed it out

Forget me
Just let me
Bleed it out

Crying it out only ever
Makes the problem worse.
No one ever asks "Why are you crying?"
They only ever demand
That you stop.

I used to believe
That gold can stay.
But now I see
That there is nothing to keep
As all that glitters
Winds up deceased
While I stare into the darkness,
It's 10:00 pm
And I just can't sleep.

You lay beside me
Your breathing rhymic
Though I can tell when you struggle
Like you're not getting enough
Oxygen.

I feel you move beside me
Trying to get comfortable.
Trying to sleep.
Hopefully you can quiet your mind,
Because I sure can't
Quiet mine.

I want you to stay.
Maybe not physically,
I know it's important for you to go away
Occasionally,
But I want you to stay mine,
Because I will always stay yours.

Please just tell me
You'll stay.

Nothing gold can stay.

Maybe that's true.
Maybe it isn't.
I guess we'll find out.

On the nights i can't sleep,
I lay awake thinking of you
and if you deserve better
and if I can really be better the way you think I can.

I'm damaged goods, no ones ever denied that, at least to my face.

I know I'll heal and grow and get little bits of better in time
but until then I wonder if the slow of my progress
strikes fear in parts of you you've long forgotten.

and I wonder if you understand
the thought of losing you
fighting with you
hurting you
strikes me breathless out of fear
and pain.
it's like the wind gets knocked out of me
at the idea that I could ever be a source of hurt for you.

and I'm not that smart
and I'm not that funny,
but **** it all if I don't try to learn
or if I don't try to make you laugh.

I get too excited
and I shout
or too angry
and my voice shakes or gets louder.

I'm an empath and I feel too much,
see too much, love too much.

I talk too much.

I laugh too much.

I cry way too much.

but at least I'm trying.

I lay awake at night sometimes,
wondering if I can get better the way you think I can.

How dare you
insinuate
imply
that I look to hurt
I look to harm.

how dare you
infer
that I would ever
use ones weakness against them.

I am a monster in my own right,
over wrought with self destructive tendencies,
but do not confuse me
for something I will never be.

I would never hurt the one I love,
whether it be physically or mentally
or to emasculate.

my intent
is never malicious
and you dare to question
my motives.

a cry from a fool,
and yet I have allowed it to sliver
under my skin,
like the insect
it is.

know fully well
that my intent is kind
and my actions and words
are sincere.

leave be your wedges,
or be met with a ferocity like no other.

My heart has lots of tears
And holes.
It has lots of little scars
And big scars,
And little breaks,
And big breaks.

And it's pretty big,
But it's kind of torn up,
And a little old.
It's pretty warm,
But it gets pretty cold
When you leave here.

I know it doesn't look like much,
But here's something kind of neat:
When the world feels like it's crashing down,
It will keep you safe and sound.

And I know it looks really ugly,
But it will keep you warm
On the nights you get really cold.
And when you feel sad,
It's nice to have a little bit of
Dim light in the darkness with you,
To help you find your way out.

And I can't promise
That my heart will brighten up
Every dark day,
But I can promise
It will keep you safe.

And I know with a little work,
And a lot of love,
My heart could be a nice home
For you too.

My hands are always freezing cold,
Unless I'm somehow touching you.

Not the generic,
Clammy cold hands.
No,
Cold, and dry, and soft to the touch.
As though I stuck my hands in dry ice
Long enough for my hands to be frozen,
But not long enough for my skin to peel.

My feet are even colder.

But when I touch you,
Or you touch me,
It's like my body all of a sudden decided
"Let's have proper blood circulation,"
And then I over heat,
Because being warm isn't something I'm used to.

And I feel like something about this
Is a fantastic metaphor
For my bravado of cool and calm and apathetic
Melting all of a sudden,
All because of you.

I try not to think about it.
About how "No," (or, more accurately depicted: "NO!")
Wasn't a valid answer.
Or how my first line of defense
Was the 4,000+ page Civil War Encyclopedia
On my nightstand.

I try not to think
Of the ways I've been reduced to an object.
I try not to think of my silent tears,
Or wanting to light my skin on fire.

I try not to think of my older brother's anger,
Or the confusion and passive rage
When I explained what it meant to my little brothers'.

I try not to think of my foster mother,
Who instantly accused me of lying
Because I was too scared to come forward with it sooner.

I try not to think
About how I still kind of hate her for that.

I try not to think
About the male friends who told me to get over it.
About the male friends who didn't believe me until they asked him,
And judged his behavior about it for themselves.
About the male friends who didn't understand what the big deal was.

I try not to think
About the female friends who didn't want to believe me.
About the female friends who left because I became too difficult.
About the female friends who left because they were no longer the center of attention.
About the female friends who didn't want to understand because it was too much trouble.

I try not to think
Of the way it destroyed my relationships, six platonic, three familial, and one romantic.

I try not to think
Of how I want to blame myself,
Even though I'm better off without those people,
All of them.

I try not to think
About how it destroys me
Little by little,
But only on the bad days.

I try not to think
About how I was messed up
Long before that.
About how I was a possession to my father,
So becoming an object to another man
Was really no different.

I try not to think.

When all is said
And when all is done,
Lift your head,
Aim for the sun.

I know you really
Just want to give up.
You don't care about what could be,
It's too much to stand up.

It would be so easy
To fall through the ground.
It would go so simply,
If I just wasn't around.

But I sigh,
As I lay among the soil and dirt.
I don't have time to die,
I have to get back to work.

See, my life isn't mine.
I'm not living for me
But for the people whose love has defined
This life.

And I know I am strong
Because I have been far too brave,
For far too long.
And I know I am brave,
Because it was myself
I had to save.
And I know I possess the fury of a storm,
Because there was a blizzard
The winter I was born.
And I know I am loved,
Because his smile rivals
The warmth of light from above.

Why?

Why do you stay?
When all I do is try
To push you away?

Why?

Why are you here?
When every outburst I have
Is rooted in fear?

Why?

I ask,
Why?

"Because I love you."

And though it shuts me up,
Another lump in my throat passes
And I choke out,

**But how?

I am what the world was
Before you grasped it between your
Too-warm hands and crushed it into
Nothing more than shrapnel.

You left me there,
With my heart spilling out of my mouth,
With your words tangled up in my throat,
And you told them I was just
"Collateral Damage."

But when I shoved my insides
Back inside
And stitched myself up
With shards of broken glass for a needle
And thread made from nerve endings,
I saw your eyes widen in shock.

You didn't think I had it in me.
You didn't think I'd make it.
You didn't think I would really fight with everything I have.
You didn't think that even if I did, that I'd have enough to win.

You were wrong.

I am the color of your eyes
Before you turned your back and said
"Goodbye."
What I mean is,
I am a shade of something
That is so beautiful,
But could turn so ugly, so quickly,
With a single sneer.

I am the old dog
That reminds you of the dog you grew up with.
I have the same knowing eyes,
The same playful grin.
You look at me,
Eyes filled with anger,
Hands shoving me away from you,
Because you remember doing everything together
With that dog.
You ate together,
Played together,
But one day when you both fell asleep for an afternoon nap,
Only one of you woke up.

I still don't think you've forgiven yourself for that.

I am your Hummingbird, given that name by you for reasons I cannot recall verbatim.
And you are my Bluebird of peace, because your touch calms me in moments I would be blinded by fear.

I don't know if this is about being the underdog,
Or coming of age,
Or finally finding some type of peace,
I'm not sure
Which genre of manga/anime
Our story is,
But so far I like it.

I'm trying at analogies
But my poetic nature is failing me.

If we were a story,
You'd be a hero,
And I'd be some peasant girl making a living as a bard,
Writing music and lyrics that probably don't match.

And you'd be great with some type of thing
That probably defeats the antagonist,
And I'd be great with words,
And maybe some type of lowly magic.

You'd maybe have some type of technological magic
That I couldn't fathom,
Or weaponry
Or mastery over some mystical animals,
I mean hell,
You're great with not-so mystical animals.

And I feel like we'd be the story,
Where the strife wouldn't be us against each other,
Rather us against the world.

I don't know,
I'm not sure,
But either way,
I like our story.

Crossing my fingers, here.
I don't want an ending,
But a whole bunch of sequels with you sounds pretty nice.

Maybe I'm not everything you wanted me to be,
Maybe I'm not what you thought I was.
Preconceptions ruin these type of things.

And I'm not asking
Anybody to be perfect,
No, see, that takes the fun out of these things.

But I miss you and your smile,
So please, sit and talk with me for awhile.

My insomnia devours me whole,
And I float in the abyss of
"Why the hell?"
For eternity--
Or until morning comes,
Or whichever so happens to come first.

And when I interact,
There are shackles chained to my wrists
And my ankles,
And they won't be removed
Until I kiss you
Again.

I feel too deeply
And while they can be aggravating,
I also love with all that I am
Or more.

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

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

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

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

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

That was before.

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

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

I have eleven years in my possession,
All of which I spent loving you,
And drowning in various fantastical obsessions.

I have eleven whispers of regret,
Eleven whispers of doubt,
Eleven whispers of "turn around."

I have eleven months in my possession,
Eleven months of good intentions.

I have eleven screaming words
Piercing my ear drums.
Tell me that you don't care,
You won't care.

I have eleven days in my possession,
Eleven days this will go without mention.

I have eleven needless thoughts,
Pushing and pushing until my eyes flood with tears.
You won't notice.

I have eleven itching scars on just my hands and arms in my possession,
Of all the times I needed someone,
But there was no one to hear my amnesia-esque confessions.

Sometimes i'm okay,
And, i guess, sometimes i'm not.

And sometimes i'm great,
And sometimes, i guess, i'm not.

Sometimes
I'm a sunny day.
I'm all cloudless skies
And blooming flowers
And green, green grass.

And sometimes i'm a starry night.
Usually, i'm a starry night.
And it's not that i'm sad or shutting you out,
It's just that if there's too much light
You can't see the stars.


But sometimes i'm a hurricane.
I'm all heavy downpouring rain
And lightning
And winds that tear everything
And everyone
Down.
I'm so destructive,
Self destructive
But if i said it never hurt anyone else
I'd be lying.

But sometimes,
I guess,
I'm Orion's belt
And Ursa Minor,
And the milky way.
And i'm all stardust and shining planets
And burning hydrogen.

Sometimes, i am beautiful.

And, i guess, sometimes i'm just okay.

I was always told
As if it were praise,
About how strong I am (emotionally).
About how determined I am,
About how much of a fighter I am.

My mother says: "We're all so proud of you, and anyone who isn't is delusional."

But I don't feel so strong anymore.
I don't feel very brave.
I don't feel like a fighter.

All this bravado I put forth for my mother,
And my siblings when they actually speak to me,
Just isn't enough.
I can't do it in front of you,
Because that front I have
Is such *******.

I'm vulnerable and scared,
And my confidence only comes out
In deflective smart remarks,
That have a tendency of offending
Most people,
And I'm sure sometimes even you.

I just want to be better.
I just want to be stronger.
But I'm nowhere near better,
And I don't feel very strong.

I only break when I know I'm allowed to.

I have to be stronger than this.
I'm too smart for my own good,
And I have a golden heart
With a rebel yell.

I am better than this.

I am stronger than this.

I'll be okay.

Thunder cracks overhead,
And I'm playing happy music as loud as I can
Or else my dog will bark loudly and continuously until she barks herself to sleep.

And my hands are shaking slightly,
There's a reason I hate storms
And rain
And thunder.
I used to love it
And find peace in it.

But every time the thunder cracks
And I see the lightening behind the blinds
And the rain splatting across the windows,
I feel sick and scared and small.

If I pretend it's not there
I'll be okay
But I keep going back and back and back.

I'm in the back of my closet,
I'm ten years old
And mom's not okay
And where do we go
From here?
And the rain won't stop
The thunder won't stop,
Just me and my dog
Comforting me.

But now
I'm on the catwalk and suddenly
I'm destroyed and suffocated/suffocating
And my screams aren't loud enough
To pierce the thunder
And fall below
Because no one wanted to see
Just how bad it was.
And when it was over,
I found no comfort in the drops of rain
Hitting the roof like bullets,
No comfort in the crack of lightning
And the roar of the thunder.

My wish for finding meaning in a storm
Was swiftly and seemingly endlessly twisted
And contorted
Into a complete fear
Of any spontaneity I once had
And any sense of adventure
That was once mine.

And my dog barks at the thunder
As it tears open the sky,
And I flinch at the sound,
Hiding in a sweatshirt that isn't mine.

And I can't shake it,
But there's got to be something better
Than being afraid of rain.

And I'm hoping the storm passes
With ease.

We sit in your kitchen.
you're playing on your phone,
and you don't know, do you?

my nightmares
as of late,
are mostly about losing you.

I can handle pain.
I've been beaten and bloodied.
I cannot handle
the feeling of complete desolation
of my heart
that is losing you.

but I do not fear it,
for sins do not hold to fear
with great power.

no, rather than focusing on the fear,
I will allow you further
within the walls you have not seen closed,
yet.

I do not wish to shut you out,
but my survival instinct
screams that I'm letting you in
too far
that you know
too much.

that I should not
trust.
slow to trust
quick to love,
I have always been this way.

but trusting you is too easy,
it just happens.
it's natural,
child's play.

you don't even know,
do you, Bluebird?

the way I look at you
the way I've torn open my ribcage
to show you every dark, vulnerable part?
everything scarred and broken.

it's yours
and no one elses.

but I can't help but to think
I've shown you too much.

too many shadows.
too many scars.

I have too much baggage
and too much fear
I do not
carry it well.

Pain is a dangerous thing to be felt.

Hurt is a dangerous thing to be.

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

Internalizing
My pain
And yours.

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

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

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

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

Pain is a dangerous thing to be felt.

Hurt is a dangerous thing to be.

The rain drums like tapping finger nails on my window.

I shiver and I shake.

The sun forces his way through reluctant clouds.

My hands are covered in scars and burns.

Birds sing a melody of soft awakening.

It sounds much too close, so I poke my head out of the doorway. There is nothing.

Flowers begin to bloom while others begin to wilt.

I feel as though I am both wilted and am in the process of becoming.

I shed this skin of shields, and wear my heart on my sleeve.

It is a vulnerable state, for there are predators amongst the pack.

What I fear the most is that I am one of those predators.

The wolf gives a mourning howl, soft and low. Filled with a lonesome, melodramatic sorrow.

The rain threatens to pick up again.

I escape it's hold, for rain is necessary, though I dislike it.

My name has been sullied, blackened. And why not?

The prey only lies.

The wolves are painted as predators because they tell the truth.

So I will leave my sun drenched corner and go headfirst towards the rain.

I will dance with wolves.

Don't you recognize me?

Don't you see it?

It's me, the monster you made.

It's me, don't you see?

You created this.

I have no rage left for anyone else.
I have no venom for anyone else.

All this toxicity,
All this poison,
It's all yours.

Every spider crawling up your spine,
Every chill choking at your throat,
Every burning tear leaking out
Of your yellow, bloodshot eyes.

It is I,
It is me,
The monster you made.

****,
You think I liked licking
Any part of your
Gross sweaty flesh?
You think I liked
having you on top
crushing my ribcage?

Do you honestly think any part
of me liked it
when your volatile rage
caused me to flinch and you
To lash out,
One too many times on top of me.

And you ******* dared
To tell me that something about my
Physical being was wrong
as though I wasn't already
vividly aware

And you stupid
Sacrificial goat
have the audacity
to appear in a flashback
of a dream
when I've been doing so well.

When I'm finally not scared,
You show up and I'm ******* petrified
Again.

I hate all that you are.
And all that you've become.

Breathe.
In
And
Out.
Breathe.

I am okay
I am loved.
I will move on.
Not in order to be loved.
I will move on from this damage
Out of love.

For myself.
And for my Bluebird.

"Why can't I just be more confident?"

Let me get straight to the point.

I'm not confident.

I might not always think I'm worthwhile,
But I'm getting there.

I know I'm not terrible looking,
But that is never enough.
I have to be thinner,
My eyes can't be brown,
I need to have clearer skin,
My waist needs to be smaller,
My stomach needs to be flatter.
My hair needs to be softer and have more volume.
Maybe even curl a little.

All these thoughts that I would fight tooth and nail against my friends if they dared to think this negatively about themselves.

I'm a hypocrite, what can I say?

Though I have been conditioned
From the day I could voice my own opinions, from the day I didn't want my mother dressing me up,
To believe I have no value other than my appearance.
To believe that I have no worth as anything but a pretty little doll, and having even that revoked.

My parents would call me "pretty" and "precious",
But when I stood up for myself when they would lash out at me
I was "ugly" and "rude".

They're still like that.
Voicing my opinions around them
Never goes well.

Manipulative friendships and two ex's later,
I'm this way.

I am unsure of everything. Every compliment could be revoked at any second.

Same with any type of love.

The only reason I know I'm better than those who have hurt you,
Is because the only thing I'm arrogant about
Is the empathy and vicious protectiveness in my heart.

But I'll never be
Super confident,
Like the women who reel men in like fish,
Devour their hearts,
And throw them back into the water.

But I know I am strong.
Stronger than you know.
I've been told it's incredible
That I can still be so soft and sincere
And caring
After going through
My own little hell.

And maybe that is my strength.
I still have a heart,
After refusing to sell my soul to Death.

I am confident in at least that much.

"Yeah, I came out swinging,
But I still came out with two black eyes
And a split lip."

And I close my eyes
And face my demons,
And I see them
And I cower
But they see it in my eyes,
I came here looking for a fight.

So it's a fight they put up.

I'll destroy my insecurities,
I'll face off with my feelings,
And I'll go to battle
With the blood I've spilled
And the mistakes I've made.

All my fears
Will try to eat me alive,
But each and every scar I bare,
Each and every beat of my heart
Proves I'm alive.

And as long as I'm alive,
I'll come out swinging,
Each and every time.

It astounds me
The way it sounds to me
When you almost-bitterly laugh,
Like it's so ridiculous and you're not quite
Getting the point or the question,
But you laugh anyway,
Because it's obvious to you when you explain
"I brag about you."
Or
"Because I love you."

And there's an edge to your voice,
But it's almost delightful,
It's a type of sharp warmth,
A type of stinging comfort.

It astounds me
The way it sounds to me,
When your voice is loving and gentle,
When you're understanding and kind.

And it's astounding
That you found me,
Whistling and singing and humming,
Amid the ashen trees and soot-stained grasses.

And among ever light step you took towards me
I would flit and fly away,
Leaving a trail of violet and daffodil petals in my wake.
But you perched in my tree,
And I buzzed and hummed along your trail to me,
And upon finding me and the burning embers
Of the fires I have a tendency to ignite,
You captured the remains of my heart
That you didn't already have,
And when I took to the sky,
You followed suit,
With a flight pattern a little more sensible,
A little more practiced than mine.
As though you were much more prepared
For the oncoming tidal waves of feelings,
Than I was for the familiarity of them.

Almost but never quite there.
Love lasts but rarely long enough to hold a stare.
Over and over the wheels turn over.
Never ever quite getting it.
Even though you tried, it just wasn't good enough.

I touch my temples
Where they always mentioned
My red horns used to grow.

I think about what they did to me,
And wonder why I am the monster.

I feel the beast within my soul
Lurking,
Prowling,
Waiting for his chance
To pounce.

I reach for it.

I make contact
With blood red horns.

A leathery tail lashes behind me.

Maybe I am the monster
They always said I was.

But then again, monsters are made.

I am their child, after all.

If i could change
things
I would.

if I could
fix
the past
I would.

maybe I would be more whole.
maybe I would be more me.
but instead i cannot.
instead i am here.

i want to be more
i want to be better.
i want to be
worth all the effort
you put into us.

and there will be fleeting
moments of our meetings
where I'll believe
i am.

if only you knew
the hell I've seen
the monster I've been.

if i could show
you every part of me
all the guilt and all the shame
and the insane parts
i try so hard to mask
i would.

but i am afraid
you will not love
the being beneath the shell
I've constructed.

you'll be gone soon
and there will be a hole in my heart
until you return.

i am sorry for my paranoia
and i am sorry for being so scared.

i remember
when i first told my mom that i love you
i cried out of fear.

but none of that matters.
for you, i will be brave.
and for you,
i will be patient.

Nope.
I'm sorry.
You don't know
This new me.

I'm made up of sunshine storms
And bravery.

With yellow petals
Of daffodils
Stuffed inside a skin
Stitched together with
Ivy vines
Out of inky parchment.

He knows this new me
Because I'm sure he'd see me
Properly
Through the storms
I have weathered,
My stitches
Only fraying
Ever the slightest,
While I scream in pain.

And his eyes shine with admiration
And for the longest time
I realized that I am not only good,
But worthy.

You do not know
This new me.

I am stitched of tarnished shields
And golden opportunity.

Who are you?
I'm afraid I do not know
This new you.

Made of lies, vapid narcissism,
And cruelty.

It does not fit
With the new me.

I keep my mouth shut,
As they praise your lies,
And my truths are demonized.

And it's beautiful,
Because they'll leave you behind soon,
Like you left me with nothing and no hope.

But my faith in the future
And my faith in my friends
Will keep me moving forward,
While you're lost at sea

Without the new me.

It's always
One or the other
For my sisters
And my brothers,
It's always one
Or the other,
But not for me,
Standing here with broken wings.

I fly a little awkwardly,
A little off-balance,
And it's a little upsetting
To your matter-of-fact
Way of flight,
But please, oh, please?
Can't you see
My little light?

It is small
And a little fractured
But it bobs to-and-fro
In the shadow.

With you it's always
One or the other.
For my sisters
And my brothers,
Under your thumb,
It's always one or the other.

The only wiggle room
Is meant for you,
But it's high noon,
And I'm done with it too.

Maybe I'm just not
Worth your time anymore,
I've been a disobedient pet--
But if that's how you see me,
Then you really don't know me yet.

With you it's always
One or the other,
So I guess I'll just fall back on another.
Because it's always
One or the other,
Guess I'll find a better
Mother.

I leave myself vulnerable
Because I wear my heart on my sleeve.
Anyone could come along
And hurt it somehow.

I leave myself vulnerable
Because I try so hard
And it hurts so bad to fail.

I leave myself vulnerable
Because I always get back up.

If you posted a cry for help,
A "I'm awake and hurting, who is up? I could really use a pick me up."
People would answer.

But would you appreciate them?
No, you wouldn't.
You've never been
That type of person.

You'd talk some sort of ****
About how they don't know
What they're doing.

You did this with friends,
With family,
With me.

And you'll continue the cycle
Until you're dying and alone.

If I did that,
People would answer,
Probably a little late,
But I'd appreciate the love and support
Nonetheless.

Because when I have an issue with someone,
I tell them.
And when someone tries to help me,
With good intentions,
I appreciate them.

I'm not saying I'm better than you,
But let's face it,
I'm a little bitter because of your lies,
And I'm still better than you.

Sometimes I'm blind--
No, literally.
And in those moments I'm so overwhelmed
By the bleak darkness
I forget how vibrant
Your laugh is.

But when I remember,
When I remember your laugh
And your smile
And the light within your eyes,
Dear God,
I forget how beautiful seeing is,
Because it pales in comparison.

Keep the crazy at bay,
There's not much to keep thinking highly of,
But keep your insanity
Contained
To the best of your
Ability.

I want so badly to be
As honest as I can be,
But I can't be
Because then you'll see
The real me.

I trust you entirely,
So I trust you not to run
Like the rest of them,
But I can't do that to you.

Because everyone runs.
And I can't lose you in the same way,
I can't stand the thought of losing you,
But everyone runs,
Everyone runs
Away.

Everyone goes away,
Everyone leaves
And this lump in my throat,
Won't help me plead
For you to stay,
But what's it worth?

But you say you're not going anywhere,
And I have to accept that you mean it.
But will you mean it,
Will this time be different,
If I let you see all of me?

I hate being vulnerable,
Because

Everyone runs in the end
From monsters like me,
And it hurts my heart
But who in hell cares,
Because monsters sure don't,
Because I sure don't.

(Let me tell you,
I care more than you think.)

I feel like my head is spinning

But when I look in the mirror,
It rests on my neck, tilted slightly to the left,
As though out of curiosity,
Just like always.

I feel like my chest is caving in

But when I touch my sternum to check my breathing,
It's sits firmly in place,
Only moving with the quick rise and fall of my lungs.

I feel like my throat is closing,

But I drink water and it goes down smooth,
But I wish to god it would drown something,
Not me but the me I was.
The me I'll never be.
The me I've always been.
The me that wasn't good enough
The me that wasn't worth keeping around,
The me that he tossed out like garbage.
The me that you signed away.

But I swallow the water.
It is cold in my stomach,
And it sits there,
Sending shivers through my body until it becomes the same slightly-colder-than-average-but-warmer-than-this
Temperature as the rest of me.

If only.

1 - The number of times I've been livid because of you and nobody else. Wow, this is new.

2 - The number of people that check in on me consistently. (Here's a hint, it's you and it's my best friend.)

3 - The number of almost-but-pretty-close-to melt downs I've had this week.

4 - How many times I check my phone within an hour to see if you've responded, when I know you haven't responded.

5 - How many times I've been to the doctor's in the past two months.

6 - On a scale of one to ten, ten being the worst, how ****** I feel.

7 - the amount of scars on my left hand.

8 - How often a single thought of you can make me smile within a span of ten minutes.

9 - How many times I've realized I shouldn't be upset but I still am because I miss you **** it and I just want to talk to you, especially since I feel like I've been hit by a bus.

10 - Approximately how many hugs I need right now, going up by the hour.

You are warmth
You are light
You are strong
You are brave,
But you don't have to be.
You don't have to be,
Not with me.

And i am fearful,
And i am shaking and shaky.
And i hate saying it,
But i am fragile and scared,
But not in the way you see me as.

I can be stronger
I can stand taller
I can be brave.
If only for you.

You called me a thief, but i'm just a survivor,
I'm a fighter.

I've spent my years
Fighting for my life
Or fighting for nothing,
And they ended up being
The same.

Because i came out
Swinging,
And though i was
A little less
Than the best,
I came out with a black eye
And a split lip.

You, being the light that drives me
Should be aware
That though
I love you so,
I'm stronger than you know.

Anticipation
Devours me whole
As we get closer
To when you come home.

All I want
Is to be held
Within your arms.

But you're so far,
Far from me.

And I miss you,
Your heart and soul.
All I need
Is you,
To keep me whole.

It hurts so bad
To know that
People leave
So easily
And what does it
Mean to me
That you're not here.

There's an ache in my wrists
That begs that I give in
To all this dissociation.

There's an ache
In my bones
That begs for me to give in,
To black out.

And while I have nothing
No one
To ground me
To keep me level
I refuse
To give in
To that.

So
Light me up
With the
Fire in your eyes.
Burn me up
With the warmth of your being,

All I need
All I want
Is you.

The concept of the end gets closer and closer each time it starts.

Each time, I am more alone.
More detached.

Farther away.

Each time, it hurts more.

Each time,

It breaks me more.

But they never see.

They never notice. They are distracted. So distracted.

They all say they love me so.

They all say I mean so much to them.

That they appreciate me so much.

But then they leave me, after telling me leaving me alone might be dangerous to my health.

I can't wait for the end.

The people that I always tend to be--
Uh, well, to be it lightly--
Better than,
Always assume I'm sheltered.

That I cannot possibly be so kind,
I cannot possibly be so sweet,
I cannot possibly be so, ugh, cute,
And have had something terrible happen to me.

I always love correcting them.
"You're right," I begin.
My voice sweet like honey.
"I have no had something terrible happen to me."
I go on to inform them that it's
"I've had multiple somethings. With an S. Plural."

They usually scoff, and that's when my laugh becomes bitter,
And sly.
Not like dark chocolate,
No, still too sweet.

Bitter like dry swallowing too many pills because the memories won't let up.
Bitter like the glue on the back of the tape that's over your mouth.
Bitter like the smell of sawdust.
Bitter like pain.

They assume they can read me,
Know me.
That I'm this nice, shy girl.

And they're not wrong.

But I'm shy because of my Generalized Anxiety Disorder.
And I'm nice,
Because I refused to let my C-PTSD taint who I am.
I refuse to let it make me cruel.

But these people,
Who have proven by their actions and words
That my occasionally self-loathing, mentally-ill self
Is actually better than,
Love to downplay me.
Love to call me sheltered.

But I guarantee
If they have been through
What I had been through
They wouldn't be half as
Kind
Sweet
And, UGH, cute.

And that in itself
Is a strength.