Sounds like a challenge,
But I promise I'm a challenge.
I challenge all kinds of things,
Like rules and authority
And demands made unto me by others.
I also challenge things like
Societal norms and standards,
And laws of nature from time to time.

And then one day,
I thought I'd given in to my own
Preconceptions
And decisions and law-like
Negative affirmations about my life.

And then you come around
With a positive outlook
And a laugh that makes my heart full.

And when you touch me suddenly
The world lights up
And my skin feels like it's buzzing and warm,
When usually all is cold and filled with ice.
You touch me,
And suddenly I can see
The beauty in every flower,
And the life within even the smallest budding leaf.

And your eyes
Touch my soul,
In a way I've never felt before.
I want you to love me
Deeper than my bones,
And once you feel my soul,
Simply go deeper.

And suddenly I'm trying to breathe,
Because I'm left breathless
Just at words you say to me
And the way they dance circles
Within my heart.

And your kiss
Is the oxygen I need
To keep myself afloat,
And I'm trying here,
I really am.
But just kiss me one more time,
I promise that's all I need,
But I could stay within
The warmth of your arms
For eternity.
I could bask in the bliss
Of your kiss
For all of time.

Count each and every breath,
And break yourself trying to keep calm.
Try to figure out what parts of you are good,
And which parts of you are wrong.

Lose me within distractions,
I am but a fraction
Of the result of meaningless actions.
Harsh words and broken promises,
Made without compassion.

People will find their way back
To the past.

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

I compare myself to the weather because
I constantly change.

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

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

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

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

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

For people
Are flighty
And fleeting.

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

There is no greater conflict of interest
Than learning that one out of your only two consistent wants
Is no longer a want
And no longer a desire.

It destroys every preconception you've had of life.

And that's a good thing.

The only two things
I have consistently wanted through out my life,
Until now, that is,
Is either to belong,
Or to die.

It has been a little over six months
Since I began to have a thirst for life and living.
And within your arms,
I have succeeded in my goal to belong.

It's funny how some goals can be reached
With the help of others,
And other goals
Well,
They just shouldn't be reached.

You lay in bed
Melting your mind
With video games.

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

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

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

Go **** yourself.

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

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

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

These games,
They are hobbies.

You seem to be confused.

It seems
I tend to feel more
When drinking.

It seems
I tend to react more
When having been drinking.

I would much rather
Feel as I do now
Than react so
Haphazardly.

Apathy
Is my greatest
Strength.

If Only
I knew
How to use it.

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.

I've been thinking alot
Lately.

I've been thinking a lot
Especially
About something someone once said to me.

"I just want you to know
That the kind of love you deserve
Is unconditional.
You deserve someone
Who love all of you, every part.
Who doesn't require that
You change somehow.

Because all of these horrible things that happened,
They're a part of you.
They are woven deeply and intricately within your heart.
And this boy, I hope you know that he would absolutely
Take the opportunity to change these parts of you.
I hope you know that he would jump at the chance.
And you deserve so, so much more than that.
You deserve a type of love that is unconditional.
You deserve a type of love that loves and accepts and cherishes every single part of you.
Even the broken parts.
Even the parts that aren't very pretty to look at.
You deserve so much more than anyone would be selfless enough to give."

The last thing I ever said to him was that he was wrong.

I am
uninteresting
I am
a lost cause.

what do you
see in me?

I'm just
a lost soul.

but darling dear,
fire burns within this
lost
soul

like the fire that burns
within
your eyes.

I am a
lost
soul
but I am found
within your gaze.

give me the chance
to be interesting
give me the chance
to be more than I am
than I was.

Some people are made to break.
Some people are made to last.

Some people are made out of brittle malachite,
And soft, aluminum filigree.

Others are made from obsidian and jade,
Carved agate cameos for hearts.

But you,
You're made from the most refined lapis,
Crystal clear sapphire of all colors,
With steel and platinum filigree and carvings.
Your heart is warm and soft,
Mainly because it's made up of
Constellations and gold.
And your walls are made out of
Steel and platinum, the same. It drizzles and mists too often behind them.
Your eyes take from your heart,
That very same gold struggling to show
Behind waves of blue skies
That yearn to gloss over the fog
Behind those steel and platinum walls.

But I've found a disparity in your defenses,
A sliver of a crack, that's not too big, but enough so that
I may wriggle through.

And despite my attempts,
Successful or otherwise,
To break down your walls,
When I lay before you,
Naked and vulnerable,
It is not steel nor stone I feel against the pale nervousness of my skin.
Instead, I feel the warmth of constellations, and the curious softness of gold.

Your touch is made up of galaxies,
And so I must ask,
Make me your universe.

Rather than built on pillars of sand,
We were built on stone and asphalt,
Metal bars children swing from,
Their laughter fading into the night
As they face the pains of growing up.

Stitched from the bark of a Black Locust tree,
Using vines made from platinum and steel
As the thread.
And thorns grown from
Diamond
And pure carbon,
Lace up the side of a castle,
And around that castle
A moat filled with black water,
With a PH balance of nine.

And in that black water,
Small water dragons swim,
And in the forest lurks,
The largest (and most friendly)
Lynx's you'd ever meet.

And inside that castle
Of blue
You'll find
Halls decked with red and orange to the East and South wings,
And to the West and North,
Seafoam greens and blues,
And the walls are built from glass,
As to watch the animals from within the moat that like to defy physics,
Swim about and find prey to sustain themselves.

And in the reds and oranges you'll find
Cats and dogs of all kinds,
All creatures of Canis and Felidae and Panthera roaming the halls,
Bounding after vermin,
Or pouncing onto poultry.

And the silk drapes,
Cascading through the halls,
In colors reflecting the sights we've seen.

And on days our halls
Have black blood running through the
Pipes,
Allow for me
To find you some light.

I may have trouble,
Discovering the sun
On my own
For me,
But if I can find
That I do it for you,
Then finding light
Will never have been
So simple.

And the main foyer will change
With the feelings
That are being felt
Most prominently.

And no storm
Of my making
Will shatter the glass
Keeping dragons within their homes.

And no storm,
Whether it be of my making
Or another's
Could tear down our Castle's walls,
No matter how much wind or lightening.
No hurricanes nor tornadoes,
Nor flooding
Could destroy us,
Because we'll be just as strong,
If not stronger,
Than the storm.

And with all that courses through my veins,
I will fight for the passing of each storm,
And watch as the rain fizzles out,
And the storm forfeits this particular fight,
And in the distance buzzing of animals in the trees,
I will know our fight was worth it,
As we watch a hummingbird hover and buzz circles around a floating bluebird,
As they come home from their migratory patterns,
and nestle into a tree,
With a sodden nest,
But warmth is found
Within fluffed up feathers
And a storm rolling out.

However unstable my heart,
Our castle was built on stable ground,
On which I've found,
A reason to keep continuing my purpose,
Instead of living a life without one,
A life with none.

My goal is holding your hand,
Sixty years from now,
And our castle being just as bright
And filled with overwhelmingly loving light,
As the day we established it as
Ours,
And ours alone.

I was lost within the dawn,
Scrambling, floundering, searching for something.
The blue and the violet would dissolve me
Into fragments of something that was once recognizable.
Then you came along with the sunrise,
Each step closer more calming and more gentle.
And within my blue and violet shell
Stirred a warmth, a light, a vision of white.
As the shell broke open, shattering into pieces upon epiphany,
I spread violet and green wings,
Fluttering and shimmering into the day,
Finally flying alongside
The Bluebird of Peace
Who found me.
Upon that flight, I found that to be part of the day
Meant to be part of the sunset,
And to be part of the sunset
Meant to be whole.

I'm cold
And shaky
And fearful
Of the future.

I just want you
To stay.
I just want you
Here.

But the fire can't keep me warm
Tonight
Because I'm lost in thought
Lost in place
Trying to find
Myself
Or anything resembling that.

But whatever
Whoever
I may be
I am still lost.

And you would rather
Inhale ash
Than speak to me
In any sense deeper
Than "I love you,"

But I lose myself
In the shadows
In the wherever
Whoever

And fear burns through my skin
Boils my bones
And my marrow,
Leaving me
Less
Leaving me somewhat
Gone.

But I'm disgusted
And angry
And lost.
But that's about it.

I miss you,
And I'm up in arms
Over something my brother said.

See I've have things I
Struggle with
Almost constantly,
Like because I have a handful of mental illnesses,
Does that make me bad?

Or do my illnesses
Make me insane?
Or does my illness
Mean I'm held
More or less accountable
For things I can't control?

Having been abused,
Does that mean I'll repeat the cycle?
Or does it my mental illness
Make me so?

I'm up in arms
For having been accused
Once or twice
Of using someone as a punching bag,
But she fails to remember
The majority of our Junior and Senior
Years,
When she would gladly rip into me
All because she felt it was right,
During her time of month.

Not to say it was right,
It wasn't right,
For me to treat her poorly
As I tried to survive,
But either way,
There were ways to end a friendship
Better than her falsehoods.

And I'm up in arms,
Because I'm on the defensive,
And I'm scared I'm not my best,
And I know in real, grown up love,
So they say,
You're supposed to stick by someone
Even at their worst.

And I'll stick by you,
Easily.
It won't be difficult for me.
I've seen some things.

But I don't want you
To ever see me
At my worst,
So I'm up in arms,
And I'm scared,
And I'm considering
Getting the deep insides
Of my medial temporal lobe
Removed.

Just remove
The limbic system.

I don't know.
Nightmares and memories
At every turn.

I have to go back
To that hell hole
For half an hour tomorrow.

I'm honestly terrified.

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.

I am pages
Marked with ink from a pen
And ink from a printer.
I am words formed
To make profound statements
And snarky comments.

I am scribbled chicken scratch,
Etched onto skin.
I am the google-font
"Rock Salt,"
That I use for all my male characters,
Though it more closely resembles
My own handwriting.

I am the itching of a wound
As it grows closed.
I am the burning of the skin around the cut flesh
The only reminder of things you don't remember.

I am scarred hands,
From painful overwhelming black outs,
And Underwhelming solutions.
I am itching chapped skin
From hot water and soap.

I am the phrases
"You're doing too much,"
And
"You're not doing enough."

I am the cold locking my hands into place,
I am anxiety locking my throat into place.
I am I am I am I am

And then there's you.

And then there's you.

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

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

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

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

You are words bundled lovingly
And words scattered wildly.

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

And then there's us.

And then there's us.

I am the burning smoke,
I am the flames.
You are the cold winds,
You are the rain.

We are an old castle built upon stable ground,
We are the spark of the storm,
We are the combustion of the oxygen,
We are the scars that trail up my arms
Like footprints,
We are the footprints that trail through your mind
Like scars.

We are built from lessons
Upon lessons
Of fleeting people
And fleeting reminders.

We are learning from mistakes
And bettering each other.

We are learning to live,
Learning to breathe.

We are knowing what love is,
Upon single glances.

We are laughter
And love
And pain upon memories
And tears upon pain
And more laughter.

We are we are we are

Angelic deception
you'll never accept them
close eyes that are unseen and see a light
hidden within shadows
that will never grow quite
as bright
as the hope
within your chest.

lights burn out
and people burn like paper
but all in all
hope remains.

cowardly shyness
and the bravery to chew and swallow
rather than run and hide.
fear of being judged for
existing
and
living.

find
light
fight with
fire.
find love
fight with
hope.

I'm not much.
I don't know how much I have to offer.
I cook.
I clean.
I'm always thinking of you,
And things I could do
To make you smile.

Whether it be food to make
(Which always seems to fail)
Or books to give
(At least it gets some reaction)
Or, sadly, ***.

And that one is the one that eats me up inside.

Because I crave ***, but only with you.
And I use it as a tool
To validify myself.
Because I'm not pretty
Or worthwhile
Unless I can serve a purpose.

People say you deserve the love you try ao hard to give to everyone else.

They also say that if you expect the same from people that you give, you'll always be disappointed.

I guess the point is, I am only valued for as long as I am useful.

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.

Your voice and the color of your tone
Plays on repeat in my head,
And I'm stuck, stuck, stuck,
On everything I should have said.

Sometimes I'm a broken record,
And that's okay, that's kinda neat,
At least I'm a record at all,
Vinyl just won't admit defeat.

I'm glass work,
Built by wind and flame and coarse earth,
To create something so fragile and beautiful,
With colors spiraled about.

You are cold metal,
Only warm with the heat of my skin
Holding you tight.
Built from the iron of the blood from 4000 grown men,
And water and heat and other bits of science and smithing I don't quite understand.

I am air,
Soft and warm but cool in the heat of summer,
Gently kissing leaves, wind chimes, and your face in the humidity
In order to allow you to breathe again.
I am the harsh winds of a hurricane,
Destroying all in its path,
Reducing houses and homes to shrapnel and rubble and dust.
I am your first breath of fresh, cold winter air, when you cannot breathe
Because it was all too much, too much, and you're too young to really know why.
I am cold but comforting, there and real without being seen or known.
I am the whisper within the trees, from the waters, carrying smoke along my back to warn you of danger.

You are earth.
Steadfast and solid,
Stubborn and real.
Honest.
You are the rocks and stones that hold meaning and power within their pools of color and opaque surfaces.
You are the avalanche of boulders and pebbles that fall and destroy
All that so choose to come in its' path.
You are the soft soil in which you urge new life to grow,
Within soft and gentle hands, urging it forward and through the surface,
So that all may look in awe of its' beauty,
While you are wrapped tight around its roots so that you may protect
And nurture it with all that you are.

I am the color that spirals through your heart and within noise,
I am the burst of soft light that grows too large, too bright, too quickly,
And I am simultaneously too much and not enough.

And you are soft and stark shades of gray and black,
Pooling in to balance the colors that I have poured everywhere,
Adding definition and understanding
Of why they are what they are,
You are just in time and you are just right.

Thoughts of you are warm and lulling me to sleep.
Thoughts of me are dizzying and overpowering.

There's not much to what I have to say,
It could be said softly,
"I love you,"
Or loudly,
"My love for you is vastly infinite, more so than the universe, and more so than the expanse of the mind."

Your voice and the color of your tone
Plays on repeat in my head,
And I'm stuck, stuck, stuck,
On everything I should have said.

Breathe in.
Breath out.
What's this
Anxiety attack
About?

Breathe in.
Breathe out.
Love me
Or leave me,
I'm still me
Either way
You put it.

I miss your smile,
I miss your laugh,
I miss the way
You hold my hand.

I miss the way
You hold me.
Maybe I'm blinded
By how much I love you,
But I miss you going on about
Something you're passionate about.

And I miss watching the faces you make
When you play video games,
And I miss naming animals with you
And discussing all ten dogs we'll have.

And I want you to tell me all about
The house you want to build in the mountains.

I want your hands to wipe away my tears,
And I want you to make me laugh,
And I want to talk about stupid stuff
Until we fall asleep.
I miss you,

And if you miss me--
Well I guess I'll have to
Wait and see.

About twenty seven hours
Until I see you.

And only one more night
Until we spend the night together.

And only one more morning,
Until I wake up to you.

And less than twenty four hours
Until I change into the dress I want to wear.

There's only one day, three hours
And fifty nine minutes
Until my hand will be in yours again,
And I'll be able to see you,
Really, actually see you.
Colors and all.

My generation
Is the generation in waiting.
We're just waiting
For our lives to change.
We do all the things
We're supposed to,
And are still met
With criticism.

Because half of us
Are doing our best,
Working our hands to the bone,
Breaking down from some
Terrible disorder.
And the other half
Are just wading around in the kiddie pool,
Trying to find their footing into adulthood,
Or not.

The adults
That were the adults
That raised us
Like to only focus
On the half that's not even trying.

But we're the generation
In waiting.

We all waited to be eleven,
So our Hogwarts letters would come.
Because we wanted to escape
This pointless existence.

Now we're all twenty two or turning so,
Give or take a few months/years,
And we're waiting for the moment
Everything changes.

Waiting on that interview, that promotion, that phone call.
Waiting for someone to confess, waiting to confess,
Or in my case, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

We wait,
Because we were never taught
That our lives were our own,
We were always considered
Tools to be used by others,
Our purpose isn't ours,
And that's not a bad thing.

We're in waiting,
Because we're waiting for someone to save us,
To come to our aid,
To grab our hands
And whisk us away
To a better place.

But maybe if we all stopped waiting,
Maybe if we got up and did things for us,
And therefore each other,
We wouldn't be the generation in waiting--
Rather, the generation of doing.

I woke up at 8:47 this morning,
With my dog whimpering beside me.
My own scream woke me up,
And my mom stood in the door way of the room,
Staring at me concerned,
Informing me that I had a rough night.

I stumbled out of bed, folding my blanket and throwing it behind the arm chair.

My hand fumbles on the windowsill
And I grab my phone, pulling it from the charger.

I open up my messages, eyes bleary with sleep.
A good morning message from you.
Reminding me that I'm your Hummingbird,
That you love me,
And hoping that I slept well.

I hate to disappoint you,
But apparently I did not.

But as the fear subsides,
A warmth resonates underneath my skin,
And a giddy feeling bubbles up and around me,
Because conversation with you,
Any type of contact with you,
I just can't get enough of it.

Maybe this is part of loving you,
It's somewhat selfish
But spending time with you
Fills my heart in a way it's never been filled before.

And despite the fear I have,
I will gladly ignore it
To fly by your side,
Because you fill my heart with a type of warmth.
I will gladly accept all the time and conversation
You're willing to spend with me.

I've had always built up
Since I can remember,
And you just walked in,
As a child
And started tearing things down.

And I was so mad
And so relieved,
And then there was
Nothing.

And here you are again,
And you just walked right through
Every stone and steel wall I built up,
And I watch as they all crack and collapse
To the ground
With each footstep you take towards me.

And I have never been more angry,
And I have never been more relieved.

I worked so hard
To keep everyone at bay
But you just ignored
It all
And I couldn't help
But join in
In the destruction process
Of tearing down my  walls
To show  you every part of me
And please
Just don't make me regret
Tearing them down.

To you,
I am vulnerable
I am raw,
And I trust that you will
Take hold of me in a gentle embrace,
And that your love is true.
I trust that your love is true.

I built so many walls,
But your love is so stubborn and determined,
That you knocked them all down.

And I'm scared of the cold of the wind,
But with your arms around me,
I don't think that walls are really
All that needed.

I want you to know
I love you so
And as I drift off
I imagine being in your arms
And I want so bad
for it to be real.
because you are my
light.

I love you,
Bluebird,
And have you not heard?
Don't you know?
Life is what you make it.
and I choose to make a life with you.

Let's start off with saying that I want this spiraling descent
Into the destruction of my carefully constructed facade of calm
To stop.

I want to see your colors,
Though that won't happen for another two weeks.

And I want to feel your hands in mine,
And I want to feel your arms around me,
And I want to cry.
I want to cry and listen to your heartbeat
As it calms me.

I want to hear your voice,
And I want to look into your eyes,
And I want to tell you that I love you
And I want you to tell me
That you love me
Because I know
You love me,

Deep down inside this descent into madness
Caused by the change in the weather
And coping with triggers,
I know you love me.

I know with the very center of my being,
That the whole epitome of  this whole thing
Is that I love you
And you love me.

I want to flood your face with kisses,
And I want to run my hands through your hair,
And I want to be yours,
So wholly and completely and entirely.

And I am. No matter what.
I want to be yours
And I am.

I wanted to be the kind of girl
That made you feel like
I was the only one in the world.

I wanted to be the kind of girl
That made looking at other girls
Mostly unfulfilling and pointless.

I wanted to be the kind of person
That you would be terrified to lose.

But with reality settling in,
And my realization
Of my being so easily replaceable
To family,
And on the coming anniversary
That reminds me consistently
Of what a poor friend
And person
I am

I realize
I am not
That kind of girl
That you long for.

I am not the kind
Of person
To be missed.
People do not
Get attached to me.
And why should they?

I keep telling myself
That i deserve the love
I keep trying to give
Everyone else.
And i keep telling myself
That i deserve someone
Who would be terrified to lose me.

But i don't think
Anyone would be.

Warmth
and fire
and burning desire
to be held and loved
by you and only you.

bright eyes and loving touches
and whispered sweet nothings
and support and care and understanding.

wishful thinking
pulls me closer
and your arms keep me there.

Paying attention
to your heartbeat
and your breathing
feeling your warmth
bleed through your shirt
and onto my skin.

and I can feel myself
shivering
because warmth is leaving my body
to make room for my wanting of you
because there's so much of it constantly
coursing through me.

and if I am
to be good
and if I am
to be strong
I must come to terms
with the fact
that there will be times
where you are gone
and it will hurt
and strike fear in me
in all kinds of ways
but i will be okay,
as long as you always
come home to me.

We don't talk anymore,
'Cause I guess you ended up
Choosing sides.

We don't talk anymore
'Cause I guess
You believed his lies.

We don't talk anymore,
But I miss you,
Day in,
Day out.

We don't talk anymore,
But I still check in,
However I can.

We don't talk anymore,
And I accept
That you expected
Me to know something was wrong
When no one made me aware.

Imagine being
Blind by fear
And blind by doubt
And blind by all the things
You thought you couldn't live without.

But I can see now,
But I've been cut off now.
It's like my nerve endings are numb,
Which wouldn't surprise me,
By now.

I'm up late due to
Fevers and fever dreams,
Vomiting and low self esteem.
I know the nightmares can only get me
In my sleep,
And my secrets and now yours
Are now mine and only mine to keep.

I miss you dearly,
And maybe that's okay.
Letting go is never easy,
But you never intended to stay.

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.

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.

"So.."

I look up from my book, and sigh.

Here it comes.

"What are you?"

"O positive."
I sigh out,
And look back down at my book,
Begrudgingly.

That could have been a comment on my clothes--
Mostly black. No real intention for anything, but it always gives off the wrong impression.

It could have been my complexion,
My features.
My parents have always told me
I don't look quite entirely white
Even though I am.
My eyes and hair are too dark,
My skin too olive.

Most people mistake me for having
Some type of Asian in me.
I don't,
But that's everyone's first conclusion.
The next is
"What type of white?"
If I answer their question honestly.
"The pasty kind."
I get irritated and grit my teeth.
They ask, "Are you some type of middle eastern?"

"No," I roll my eyes. "Irish and Sicilian."

A Princess Bride joke
Or a joke about the potato famine.

"Yeah, haha, whatever."
Forced laughter,
Fake cutesy smile.

"So,"

They always start in.

I've learned to grin and bear it.

Thank God I know my blood type.

What doesn't **** you
Makes you stronger,
So please,
Begs your tugging heartstrings,
Hold on just a little bit longer!

And I can feel a darkness
Eroding your brilliant light.
It weathers and breaks and fractures,
Piece by painful piece.

Your brilliant colors,
Usually a beacon of light,
A signal for me,
Constantly shouting
This is home!
Fade into thoughts that consume.

What doesn't **** you
Makes you stronger,
So please,
Whispers a soft voice,
Hold on just a little bit longer.

And when you sleep,
The darkness edging
At the corner of your mind
Recedes,
And I know this
Because, though at a lull,
Your colors gleam and glow,
The familiarity warming me.

But you've been tossing and turning,
And digging your elbows into my back,
And I know this means you're not sleeping well,
But not being able to help--
Well, it's my private hell.

What doesn't **** you
Makes you stronger,
So please,
The words just don't fit,
Hold on just a little bit longer.

And life does terrible things.
And maybe we'll never understand.
And maybe there's just too much to lose,
But I'll risk everything,
If it means loving you.

Life does terrible things,
But it's what we make of it,
Right?
And while I doubt you'll let
The darker shades grow any more
Than they have,
It's still my job to worry.

What doesn't **** you
Makes you stronger
So please
I'll ask softly,
*Just hold on a little bit longer.

"I prefer the term fracture over break because fractures tend to heal better. I also prefer flying over falling, because that way I'm by your side. I've always been one to believe that loving someone meant being with them made you more free to be you. You're just a better you with them.

"And I don't know what I believe anymore, honestly. I thought I finally got it right when healing from a fracture. That you can't hold out hope for the unknown, that no one is reliable, that people like me don't get closure and are generally damaged, and the crueler you are the better things go for you. I just don't have it in me to be that way, to be cruel. But here you are proving me wrong, just when I was losing hope on my dream of finding some type of way to click with someone. What a beautiful thing it is, wanting to live, wanting to love. What a beautiful thing it is, living, loving."

Some women
want the shining rings
and the elegant proposals
and the over the top
displays of affection.

and while I honestly wouldn't mind
the displays of affection,
I want you to know
that all I want is you
and
you
and
you
and then
you again and again.

I will only ever want you,
nothing more
nothing less.

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.

Lace up my throat
With lace and chains.

Bind my heart in place
With the finest cashmere yarn
And life-******* ivy.

Secure my feet
To the ground
with rusted nails
And silk thread.

But you cannot clip my wings,
For my feathers have grown to be
Made of carbon
That your dull steel sword
Cannot hinder nor damage.

My wings cannot be clipped
Any longer,
For your iron sword,
As sharp as your tongue,
Cannot and will not
Graze my feathers.

I was born to burn,
I have learned to rise.
To put it simply,
With a Bluebird I'll fly.

And my head is spinning,
And I can't breathe
I can't breathe
I can't breathe.

What am I supposed
To do,
I can't breathe,
I don't know what to be.

And I'm lost
And concerned
And I need someone
To help me find my head.

See, I've lost it,
In all this turmoil,
And now I can't
Find myself.

Will you help me?

I was the crashing waves,
I was the rip tide,
I was the storm--
The ebb and flow only ever tamed
By the moonlight in his eyes.

But you

You were predictable,
The way you moved so lyrical.
You were both the tree sprout,
And the atomic bomb
That ripped its' roots out.

I was the crash of water into flesh.
I could heal, I could bruise;
Either way, the feeling was always fresh.
There is no soul I won't one day possess,
There is no dream I can't hinder the progress.
Toy with me,
And the oxygen in your lungs will be suppressed,
But, hell, nevertheless...

You are land,
You are plants.
You hold still
Your instability.
But in this/ your insanity
You have no deniability.
You did this to me,
You must finally
Hold some accountability.

Tectonic plates shift
And tear
They rip
Year after year.

What comes from the sea
Can always return to the sea.

The end of you,
The end of me.

My waters will swallow you whole.

"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.

When I was broken and bleeding,
Who stitched up my wounds?
Not you,
It was not you.

When I was scared and alone,
Who held me close
And whispered of my valor?
It was not you,
No it was not you.

When I was building myself out of the darkness
When I was finding my strength
When I was beginning to feel whole
Who was there?

It was you.

And I like
To believe
That part you
Recognized the blossoming strength
In part of me
And saw it as
A hope.
A light.

But damage does not heal damage.
And while I want nothing more
Than to take the hurt away from you,
For I was not there when you
Felt small and alone and angry and scared;
I can't take that away.

And I desperately want to,
I would give my heart and soul
To take away your pain,
But I cannot heal you.

And you cannot heal me.

Why sleep?

Why is sleep what you agree on.

Why not something easy,
Something helpful.

Like genders,
Or names,
Or actions,
Or intentions?

Or how events actually occurred?

Or who we have sympathy for?

Or who we empathize with?

Or whether or not we empathize with anyone at all!?

But no.

We're going to agree on the fact
That I'm not going to sleep tonight.

Why?

Because I've had enough stress for the day/week/month/year,
Let's save me from some nightmares
And just not sleep.

But it's a little lonely,
And a little scary,
Being awake with just my thoughts.
At least sleep ends,
And I wake up,
And the world is awake.

Everything is silent
Besides my fingers on the keyboard.

But I am okay.

I am okay.

Bite back down
On the anxiety,
Bite back
Fight back
The fear
The nausea.

Just a little
Sick is all.

Fight back
Bite back,
I'll be fine.

Just the return
Of some insomnia.

Falling is easy,
Especially when infatuated.
Infatuation causes a false sense of trust.
So you allow yourself to fall,
Thinking that someone of interest
Would catch you.

But they expect you to catch them.

And sooner or later,
The weight of each other is too much.

They weren't actually ready to care for someone else,
You cared too much.

You were a means to an end to them.
Whether it be you were good for their ego,
Or you were an ****** just waiting to happen,
You didn't actually matter.

Don't worry.
I get it.
I've been there, too.

Falling is easy.

But flying is harder.

Flying is a choice.
It is making the conscious decision to let go,
To jump that cliff.
It's having enough control not to tense up
Every muscle in your body,
And brace for the inevitable impact.

Here's a secret, though:
The impact isn't inevitable.

Because when you fly, you're carrying your own weight.
And when you feel yourself faltering, you have someone who is flying with you,
Who will make sure you don't hit the ground,
And you'll do the same for them.

Because you care so much,
And even though you know the pain of losing them would be mostly temporary,
You also know it would permanently damage parts of you.

But, surprise, surprise!
They feel the same way.

You're more than hormones and pheromones and all kinds of other types of moans.
You make them a better person,
By being their best friend and so much more.

And trust me,
Flying is harder than falling.
You have to weather through storm after storm,
And cloudy days,
And lightning and thunder,
And lots of rain.

But you can do it,
For yourself.
For them.
For both of you, together.

Because, I guess the whole point is:

Falling is infatuation.

Flying is love.

And while falling is easy,
Flying is much better.

That buzzing excitement
Before you come home.

And your hands
Holding mine
Is the only home I need.

I need your voice,
Your laugh,
Your presence.

Don't you see it?
It could be so easy,
So obviously
Portrayed.
You're everything,
Even the air I breathe.

No one ever said
Loving someone was supposed to be
Easy
But you make it so
Natural
Like you're all I've been needing
All that's been missing
Like you're all I needed
To keep going
And accomplish
What I need to.

You're the voice that steadies me,
The touch that grounds me,
And the only home
I've ever wanted to know.

There's nowhere
I need to go,
But I'd go anywhere
If it meant being by your side.

Wherever you are
Is home.

Crossing the field
One foot after the other,
Grass under my feet,
Clay staining my skin red
With each heavy step.

I drag along,
Instead of flying past like I once did.
My each step is slow and hesitant,
Instant of a leap and a lunge
Towards whatever the future may hold.

And grasshoppers
And little moths and fireflies
Float and hop around me,
As the sun settles behind the Earth,
And the moon rises into the sky.
The grass is green, but yellowing,
And leaves decay at my feet.

Spirals of red and orange leaves
Spin around me a thousand times,
And the falling stars caress
My moonlit skin.

I am the night time,
And I don't want to be.
I am when the wolves and coyotes sing mournful songs,
I am when the foxes and cats come out to hunt.

I am the night time,
And I creep across golden fields
As slowly as the gold fades to gray,
Where the sky touches the earth.

And I want to be warmed by the sunlight,
But I am shivering and cold,
Within my shadow realm.

I sit within the tall grasses,
Amongst the trees that sway in
The harsh winter winds.
I feed off moon flowers and snapdragons,
Yearning to find a daffodil for myself.

And the warmth of the sun calls me home,
But I want to be bask in the light,
Instead I blow away,
And I disappear.

And as I prance and spin in the evening,
Casting rays of blue twilight across the landscape,
My brown eyes catch your blue,
And while I believe you can't see me,
I hope to the moon and back that you do.

I am the spirit of the night time,
But your eyes are like the day's sky,
And I could stare into your sunlight lined iris's
For eternity upon eternity.

And with fluttering wings,
I painted you stars in the royal violet and navy sky,
I prayed that you'd make me yours,
But I was impatient
And you fell along with me

Into the realm where
Landscape meets starscape,
And the blues of the night
Met the greens of the day,
And I'll love you forever
Where the sky touches the earth.

They call me.

Waving to me from the up-turned leaves
On the trees lining the street
Before a storm settles in.

They call me.

Humming softly after sunset,
Ushering in the blue of dusk.

They call me.

Whispering along the howling wind
That rustles the grass and bangs the shutters.

They call me.

Coming down on me like a firing squad
The rain pummeling into my back
As I desperately try to remember.
As I desperately try to forget.

They call me.

You were the one who warned us.
You were the one who taught us.
We were shown everything.
Told everything.
How to protect ourselves.
How to fight back.
What your weaknesses were,
Because you thought they were ours too.

You were wrong.

They call me.

You didn't realize who we were.
You didn't know what we were,
Or why.

We never meant any harm.
We didn't choose this.
We never got a choice.

To us, choice is nothing but a fairytale
That we've become too old to believe in.

They call me.

The songs of the Old Religion
Rumble towards me
Within the fog.

**"We are the granddaughters  of the witches you weren't able to burn."