I don't know how
To be someone
You'd miss.

I'm awkward
And spastic
And giggly
And over zealous.

I'm terrified.
I shut people out.
I say too much.
I don't say enough.

I'm cold
And cruel
And i hurt too easily.

I just want to be
The one
For you
That makes it all okay.

I just want
To be the one
You want to be with
At the end of the day.

And promises don't mean much to me.

Actions speak
Louder than words.

But i'm all words and honesty.
My actions are usually skewed
By my twisted sense of
Guilt.

I love in vast amounts.

With all of me.

With my whole being.

How do you "low key" love someone?

How do you not give your all?

How do you not wear yourself thin?

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

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

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

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

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

Humans are foolish,
Strange creatures.
It's easy to say
That we're awfully self-obsessed,
Horribly dressed
To most occasions,
And of the
Sociopathic, apathetic
Persuasion.

But what's more difficult
Is holding ourselves
To a higher standard,
Because if we hold ourselves higher
We must act better.

And it's easy to say you're going to be better,
What's hard is being better.
Doing better.

But I am of the school of thought
That people,
Human or otherwise,
Are generally good
By nature.

Our hearts our kind,
Our souls are pure,
And it isn't until events
And the choices of others
Occur
That we become so very
Vile.

And maybe we aren't a perfect species,
But we're all we've got.

So be better.
Do better.
Despite all recent failures,
And despite all upcoming failures,
There's hope for us yet.

Humans are foolish,
And cruel.
They are petty
And vapid
And monstrous.

We have come up with
Thousands of negative words
To describe ourselves,
And we have gone to great lengths
To prove it to be true.

But with good intentions
And striving to be strong
And noble,
We make mistakes
That could easily destroy us.

And in our foolishness
We are beautiful
And kind
And good.

Humans are flawed
And destructive.
But there is a balance,
And there is good
Within the few
Of us.

I'm all yellowing pages, ink stained fingers, and daffodil bouquets, and wrath.
You're all broken book spines, gears, and wires, and pride.
I'm all hair falling in my face, cold hands, and a blush peppering my features.
You're all eyebrows furrowed in concentration, warm arms, and focused aqua eyes.

I'm a hummingbird's fluttering wings, bouncing left and right with self-righteous hope and faith.
You're a bluebird's soft song, soaring and diving into resolution and problem solving.

I'm a flurry of thoughts spinning too fast too fast too many colors too much passion too much fire too much noise too much touching not again not again all the while making the best speech I'll ever regret.
You're calculated and cold, knowing what nerve to strike and when, but holding yourself from doing so because you're better than that.

I'm withdrawn and frigid and bubbling over with warmth and love to give,
You're acutely aware of your virtues and flaws.

I am too smart for my own good,
And you're too smart for yours.

I'm all small stature with big words,
You're all the things I want to be able to say.

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.

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.

Hush little angel,
Don't say a word.
Master's going to get you
A raven bird.
And if that raven bird
Doesn't crow,
Master's going to get you
A ring with a red stone.

And if that red ****** ring doesn't shine,
Master will get you silk however fine,
And if that silk isn't softer than soft,
Master will make someone's head come off.

Hush little angel,
Don't say a word.

Master's going to get you
A raven bird.
And if that raven bird doesn't crow,
Master will find you rings with red stones.

And if you aren't appeased by the red stone's shine,
You'll still be the only angel of mine.

And if my angel
Flies away,
I'll know that my angel
Will come back one day.

And if my angel
Comes back one day,
I surely hope
That it's to stay.

I am made of iron
I am made of fire
I am the steel of your heart
The blaze of your lighter

I am the embrace of your arms,
The warmth of your gaze,

I am the burning cold of the blade
As it cuts them down
As it cuts them down.

I am no damsel in a tower.

I am longing for the skies.

Longing for the skies.

I am different from who i was
this time last year.
and I am different
from who I was
this time two years ago.

but there was a point in time
where I was this peaceful
this strong
this willing
to endure

and it was when I was a child,
no older than ten.
when we were children,
and I was one of your best friends.

you have this stubborn will
about you
and this determined air
that leaves me wanting desperately
to be something
for you to be
stubborn about.

I am not who I used to be
and yet I am the same
because I am still
shy and strong willed

but I will not be so weak
and I will not give in
and I will not allow
words of those with no meaning
to sliver and crawl under my skin.

I am yours,
finally.
as you are mine,
finally.

I have tried and failed
at loving others.
I will not give up when it comes to you,
so I desperately hope
to succeed.

I trust you when you fall asleep early,
That you're not just ignoring me,
That you're literally just sleeping.

I trust you when you go out without me,
Because I trust in who you are
And what we have.

I trust you when you tell me
That I've done nothing wrong.
And I trust you when you tell me
Not to apologize.

I believe you
When you tell me that you love me,
And that you love talking to me.

I believe you
When you say
I'm the love of your life
Or that you want to marry me.

I know this is real
Because the trust is real.

And I am ashamed of myself,
Because for everyone else
The trust was simply
A fallacy developed,
Because aren't you supposed to trust them?

I don't believe
I ever truly trusted any soul
The way I trust you.

The betrayal hurt,
Yes.
But my trust for them had not been broken,
For it was never there.

And I hate to compare
Apples and oranges,
As the cliche goes,
But I am so glad,
That you are mine,
And I am yours.

I am glad
That we fly together,
And I am glad
That even on sleepless nights
The thought of you
Makes me smile.

You're that type of person
Who I try to be grumpy
And angry around.
But you make me so happy,
It's so hard to stay that way.
I'm not used to smiling and laughing
All the time,
The way I do with you.

But I am just so in love with you.

I sabotage things.
Never on purpose.
But I'm not really a "permanent"
Kind of person.
"Sticking around" isn't really my thing.

But, with you, I want a family.
I've never had a real family before.
I've never really been part of one.

But I want it,
Because I am just so in love with you.

And you
Are the kind of person
Who makes my heart flutter against the bones
That make up my ribcage,
And I could only imagine
That the beauty of the sound it makes
Is only half as beautiful
As your voice.

And I am just so in love with you.

And you
Are the kind of person
Who leaves a trail of stardust
Everytime you walk away from my arms,
So that I may always find you again,
So that I may always come back home.

And your heart
Is stitched from the purest golden thread and platinum ore.
And your soul
Is weaved out of the feathers
Of songbirds and the smell of burning gasoline or charcoal.
Your voice smells like pumpkin bread and tastes like strawberry red tea with just a little too much sugar.
Your hand in mine feels like a fire that will never go out.
Your arms around me feel like a warm meal that I'm allowed to eat, not just prepare.
Your voice in my ear sounds like I am finally, without a doubt, free from the shackles that made me who I am, scars and all.

I have never been free before.

Your lips, as you kiss me, taste like home. They taste like safety.

I am just so in love with you.

I am not beautiful.
no, I am not exquisite
or delicate
or dainty.

I am a china rabbit
I am a glittering snow globe
with a castle beneath
thing glass.

I am not
a flower.
I am not
beloved by anyone
anything
and I don't want to be.

I am the rising sun,
I am the pull of the moon on your mind.

I am silence
when you despise sound.

there are soft curves
to my slim being,
and breakable parts
beneath pink when blushing but mostly olive
flesh.

my wrists
can be circled
and held tightly
between your finger
and your thumb.

and my eyes are brown
and only glitter gold
when elated.

they pierce the air
with hollowed features
when felt by fury.

I have purple bags
under my eyes
24/7.

until I met you,
that is.

once upon
a time
I was not a fair damsel
in need of protection,
instead I was a maiden
with knowledge of swords and fighting and
I was to be feared
by the dragons.

but upon breaking,
and upon loving you,
my pride is not worth
as much
as I once thought.

I am red with determination.
I refuse to let the darkness,
As I spiral farther into madness,
Consume me whole.

If it may consume me,
It'll at least be stuck with
One hell of a fight.

I am blue with steady hands, steady voice.
I am not one to give in,
And if I've made it this far,
I can make it farther.

I am green like the grass,
Green like the trees,
Green like flowers that haven't blossomed yet.

I am lively,
I am strong.
I will not allow
Myself to crumble.

I have come too far
Not to go farther.

I was reluctant
To fall in love
I was reluctant
To be
Loved.

But your name is
Embroidered onto my heart
With thread made from vines
And a sewing needle made from stars.

Flower petals rain down in place of
The blood that seeps from the wounds
That I created myself.

Breathe in,
1, 2, 3.
Breathe out,
1, 2, 3, 4.

I was reluctant
To fall in love.
I was reluctant
To let myself
Be loved.

Your voice is etched in stars,
Glowing and gleaming lighter and lighter blues and golds.
It's carved into my heart,
Stitched right here
Into my soul,
With a needle made from brambles,
And thread made from constellations,
They sew me back together,
They stitch me whole.

Pixie dust scatters in the wind
In place of all the blood that should be dripping
From whatever wounds
May be.

Breath in,
1, 2, 3.
Breathe out,
1, 2, 3, 4.

I am reluctant to let you in,
But I'm letting you in,
And it's gonna hurt because I'm scared,
But it's alright, I know it's alright,
From the way you hold me at night,
To the way you hold my hand.

Your name is etched, stitched onto my heart
With thread made from constellations
And a needle made from stars.

I ask if you believe
That things happen for a reason,
If people are meant to be in each others lives
Because I'm afraid
This isn't as special to you
As it is to me.

Because everyone leaves when they're tired of me,
And I'm not saying you'll leave,
I trust that even if you don't believe in soulmates,
Or fate,
Or "Meant-to-be",
You'll make the conscience choice to stay.

I've never had any control over my life,
Over anything
At all,
And when so many bad things happen,
I have to think they have to happen for a reason.

I think there's still conscience choice
And individual will power
And decisions,
But there has to be a reason.

Maybe I ask "why?" too much,
But those "Why?"'s give me answers
And some type of way to be content
With life.

I believe that there are people
That are meant to be in your life,
Some type of soulmate philosophy.

And I believe that you're meant to be mine,
Because some things are written,
It's all about whether or not
We know what path we're choosing,
Because I'm not going to say there's only one
That's laid out before us.

I spent all week afraid
Of something that would never happen,
And it kept me up all night,
This fear,
And my ridiculous inability to block out thoughts or noises.

And you told me that you love me,
And nothing has really changed because,
Well, why would it?
I was being ridiculous.

And now that I know that,
I can finally
(hopefully)
Sleep.

Slamming doors,
Stomping feet,
Angry tone,
And vicious eyes.

Screaming.
Yelling.
Harsh words.

And instead of flinching,
Unlike then,
Right here and right now
My fist clenches,
And I want to scream
"What power do you have?
Other than inflicting fear upon those that are weaker than you?"

And I feel nothing for those that have
Left me bruised and scarred,
Spitting up blood during my
Graduation ceremony.

Not contempt,
Not anger,
Maybe a little fear.

And when I feel rage
Coursing through my veins,
I'm suddenly calmed my a thought,
Sweet and Simple:

"My Bluebird."

And it's a song,
It's a smell,
It's a feeling of warmth and calm,
It's sanity in a good way,
Insanity in the best way.

My Bluebird of Peace,
Brings calm around me,
Brings the sizzling, explosive temper I possess,
Down into nothing.

He lifts me into the light of day,
When I'm overcast.
He pulls me into the warmth of human decency,
When I don't feel human at all.
There's a certain "who-knows-what" about him,
And I'm more than willing to find what it is,
And hold it to my heart with all the defensive protection
I can muster up.

Golden rays of sun,
Glistening down from the heavens,
And I'd rather be here with him
Than anywhere else.
A sky so blue it wraps you in the warmth
Of the sweet summer breeze,
That you almost can't feel because the humidity coats your wind pipe.

And birds flutter and sing in the distance,
And the soft call of a crow can be heard farther off,
And a song thrums in the back of my head,
And I feel a flounce and flutter in my heart,
And I want to feel the beat of his heart
Against my back
As we fall asleep.

The smell of apple cider
On a winters day,
And the warmth of the fire,
As my hands spread across a blanket,
To link fingers with his.

I want to remember
This feeling of being in love
Forever.
Yet I know,
I will be in love
With him until the end of days.

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.

****, it's been a long time since I've remembered that name.

A green eyed protector within a dream,
That I let a monster revoke
From my dreams.
If I dare mention,
The witch fire
Angry mob would start.

I haven't dreamnt of him
In just over six months.

He never liked anyone I hung around,
Claiming they would hurt me.
Claiming they'd be dangerous for me,
Telling me I needed to be more careful.

Before medication
His whispers poured into my ears,
Reminding me to eat,
To breathe,
To stand back up.

That I was needed,
Necessary,
Worth fighting for.

And when I swallowed a handful of pills,
He had been begging me not to.
And I heard the crying of someone he hated,
And the voice of someone
He said he would never ever trust,
That we made a bargain,
That he'd protect as long as I kept up my end of the deal,
And he kept up his.

And then because of a brother,
Because of a man who is many,
I lost the Electric Green Eyes
That used to guide me through the darkest dreams.

The closest thing
I had to a protector.
The closest thing
I had to a friend
For the longest time.

But you think he's trapped in a crystal,
And I laugh at you,
Foolish little man,
The Man of Dreams
Lives within dreams
And he only serves
Those who deserve
Divine protection,
Or whatever he calls it.

But I'm at a place,
Where I do not need
My Icarus Eades,
Because he has given me the strength
Since I was small,
To keep going
And being strong.

And I stood up on my own,
I learned to breathe, alone.

And now I fly,
Beside my Bluebird.

But I'll forever be grateful
To a man that flew too close to the sun,
And fell to the Earth,
Or ever farther.

Have you ever been
To where I was born?
Have you ever found yourself
Without a rose in sight,
But you still had a mouthful of thorns?

Did you ever sit in the silence
As the wolves sang to the moon?
Did it hurt when you realized
No one is going to sing for you?

Does it hurt when you remember everyone who came into your life
Just to go?
Did it make you sad,
When you found that the only familiar voice
Was your own echo?

Love, who am I to you?
No, please, just: who am I to you?
Am I the sunshine you wouldn't wait to hold onto?
Or am I the melody that's always been the only one to really know you?

Have you ever found yourself
Sitting where I was found?
Did they ever hear the breaking for themselves,
Everytime they let you down?

When was the last time
You decided not say that you're fine?
When did you feel "I love you."
Was real, and not just a pretty rhyme?
One that we beg for,
After every night
After every fight.

Welcome to Lonely.
Population: Just you... and just me, too.

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

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

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

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

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

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

For me as a kid
It was never about fitting in.

It was about belonging
As I was.

Not like it mattered.
I moved around too much
To have more friends
Than a dog and a stuffed lion.

By the time
I was around
Long enough to have anyone
At all
I was perceivably damaged
Enough
That I didn't know how to interact,
And how to treat and be treated.

So I'm figuring it out.
I'm pretty close, I think.

But it's a weird feeling,
Finding a place where
Your abnormalities
Fit like a missing element to a painting.

Being ripped from it,
And ripping things from your
Personality and nature
To fit somewhere where you'd never belong
Anyway.
You're just not that way.
Not that catty.
Not that fake.

And when they reveal the horrible,
Razor-laden truth to you,
You sit there bleeding,
And ever so
Softly
You are approached by quiet footsteps.

You breathe in and smell the forest.
You breathe out and feel soft feathers.
And ever so gently
You are enveloped in a new type of kindness,
A new type of love.
Something real and refreshing,
But familiar.
But instead of being the missing element of the painting like before,
You're a missing instrument in a song.
The missing metaphor
From the poem,
That connects all the symbolism,
So the imagery is just right.

And finally,
Flying by your side,
Within your arms,
The fire in your eyes,
And the light of your smile,
I am home.

I saw you,
Once.
You had a name,
Once.
A home,
Once.

You were held within my womb,
Once.

But you never got a breath of air.
You never got to know your name.
I never even knew you where there
Until it was too late.

I had you for five weeks.

It was too short.

Today, I said goodbye to a fertilized
Chicken fetus
Living in the shell
Of an egg I cracked.

Two lives
I never meant to take.

I held a funeral for them
In my back yard.
Burnt what we had,
Wrapped in paper, cloth, and incense.

Gave him a name. A headstone in our yard.

I wish I had done that for you.

I'm so sorry.

I am here crying
Because it was you this whole
Time, and I bet part of

The both of us knew
that this whole while and I could
Not be happier.

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.

B-/W-itches
Burn to the ground.

But I guarantee,
I'm the best at burning bridges,
So show me to the shambled mess,
And I'll ignite a fire
So very bright.

Because I'd rather suffocate
Than hear their names again.

I'd rather drown on the smoke
From when I burn the bridge down,
Than let petty brats walk along the planks again.

I'll burn that bridge
With them on it.

I'll ignite a flame so bright,
Ignite your plastic promises,
And throw the embers to the wind.

I've made more than my fair share of mistakes,
And I've done wrong
And I've hurt others,
And maybe one day I'll succumb to the guilt,
But today isn't that day,
Nor is tomorrow,
Or the day after.

And some days I feel like I'll never be
Quite enough for anyone,
Especially the likes of you,
But other days I feel safe and sound
In the grouping of stars that brought us together.

I have more faith in the universe,
While you have more faith in humans.
It makes a lot of sense, when you sit down and think about it.

I have been let down by choices and decisions that easily
Could not have been made,
And you have been let down by things
Beyond your control.

And you seem to be mostly intact,
But I know there are parts of you that aren't.
And maybe, if I cannot heal the broken parts of me,
They could fit into the broken parts of you,
In that lopsided sort of way
That could make us both
Whole.

I dream in constellations,
Stars burning and the moon spinning in it's orbit,
Pulling and pushing the tides.
Tugging on my heartstrings,
Whispering things
To me ever so softly,
"You can be better,"
"You can be whole,"
"You've finally home,
"But your work is not done."

I dream in constellations
Of birds that softly sing,
And stories that have yet to be told.

"IF" is such a profound statement, curious question. Constantly asking will build you up and break you down, and yet without it we have nothing and with it we have exactly nothing. We have no thanks for this word, and no regret for whispering it into the wind.

But IF I told you how alone I feel
And IF I explained how sad I am
And how broken I am
And how much pain there is
In my chest
From all this stupid self hatred
And this stupid regret
And I'm breaking again, faltering again
Because everything hurts
And I don't know how to tell you
That something isn't working right
And something just isn't right
And it's probably all my fault.

Would you tell me
IF
You'd be better off without me?

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.

I fell in love with you
and the way you speak.

I am in love with you
and how you sleep.

you fell asleep beside me,
with your hand upon my ribs.
and in that hand grasps
the pink lace of my dress.

and the serenity upon
your closed eye lids
makes me
believe this is true
serendipity.

I love the way you sleep
speak
and breathe.

the rise and fall
of your chest against me.

the slight smile on your lips,
and the slight twitch
of whichever muscle.

the way your eyelashes
cast shadows across your cheeks.

and to believe
that if I were to be hurt
and you were to wake
from your moment so sweet,

all would know of the fire in your eyes.


but oh, how I love that flame.

I fell in love with you
The way baby birds learn to fly.
I took the risk, anxiously and terrified,
And jumped
And I soared.

I fell in love with you
The way a hurricane rains.
Slowly, slowly, surely, and then suddenly all at once and everywhere and so much that you can't even hear yourself think.

I fell in love with you
The way a wild animal learns to trust.
Sporadically and fearfully, and then wholly and entirely.

I fell in love with you,
And I will forever be loving you.

I looked under the bed,
I looked in my notebooks.
I looked inside my head,
I looked where the monsters lurk.

I can't seem to find it,
And then I remembered.

I've never felt more at home,
Than in the presence
Of the Bluebird that found me
Again.

It's always nice to adventure,
But it's better to adventure
With someone that makes
Any place
Anywhere
Feel like home.

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.

You'd cry only enough to get attention.
You'd mourn in ways I'd disapprove of.
You'd fabricate details of my life
That I'd adamantly demand you to
Take back.

You would say that you knew what was best for me,
But you hardly know what's best for yourself.
And my heart pounds out of my chest with excitement
At the thought of finally escaping you.

I don't want to die,
But I'm sure you'd use that opportunity
To be as self serving as ever.

You talk and talk and talk
Of betrayal.
Of me never being part of the family again,
And I hope you know,
I knew all this before.

The worst betrayal I did to you
Was walk away from you
When you were hurting me.

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.

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.

The rain falls down
And I'm left
Feeling as though I might drown,
In pages unkept.

And I'm frozen,
Freezing cold.
The fear keeps it all in,
Keeps the words from being told.

And if I were to play out on
Violins and piano,
I'd call the clouds on,
And sing to you all that I know.

I'd wash away the ashes to ashes,
Dust to dust.
And as thunder crashes,
Desolated hearts are reborn as stardust.

In the way your eyes flicker towards mine
I have found that if I were made of rain and storms,
I would require you as my sunshine,
And even still, I would defy all norms.

If I were a rain-woman,
I would melt at your touch,
I know it isn't much,
But the sentiment, I hope, is enough.

You're asleep right here,
Right now,
Right next to me.

The rhythmic sound of your
Breathing
Really should
Lull me off into a
Nap with you.

But today I am consistently
Thinking,
As I have been for the past few days,
About how much you mean to me.

How do I explain
That for years you've been exactly what I've
Needed,
And here,
And now,
You're what I want too.

Maybe I wasn't ready
This time last year
Or this time four years ago
For you to come back.

Maybe this timing is as perfect
As it feels.

Because when I tell you
"I Love You"
I'm trying to say all the things
I'm too scared to say.

I'm not talking about flighty flakey romance.
I'm talking about the vivid everlasting desire
To live life by your side.

If I said I wasn't scared
I'd be lying to you.

I'm so scared of being wrong,
Of getting hurt.
Of investing too much of myself.

But Bluebird, you have to know by now.
We've known each other for practically half our lives, almost more.
I've never doubted you,
Or maybe my faith in humanity
Has always been there,
Because maybe some subconscious
Part of me has known that this was it.

My heart flutters,
Knowing that you're next to me,
And restful,
Peaceful.

If there is a day
Or more that there are moments
Of only bliss,
Then I am fully aware that today
Is the beginning to those days.

If you have wings
why bother with walking?

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

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

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

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.

Go ahead and ignore me
Go ahead and see through me,
Walk through me,
Whatever,
Who cares?

I can do whatever,
Whenever,
You won't see me,
You won't appreciate me.

Why even bother
Trying?

You have ice in your veins.

You are the same
As the world is
When I wake up at 2:35 AM on a week night
And there's clumps of snow dropping from the pink-violet night sky,
And then sticking to the cold, unfeeling ground.

You are the same
Because you make me feel the same way.

Watching a blizzard's slow and gentle beginning at odd hours in the morning,
Is one of my favorite feelings.
I feel calm.
I feel content.
I feel, finally, at peace.

I'm not sure
If I've ever known peace
Anywhere
Aside from watching snow fall to the earth at 2:35 AM
And aside from the rare moments your laugh touches my heart,
Or your smile greets my soul,
And washes her clean.

You have ice in your veins.

You are all too familiar with the tranquil melancholy
That comes along with
Snowy winters.

You are familiar
With the peaceful, but lonesome, silence.

You are comfortable in it,
For it is your home.
For your walls
Are built from ice,
And no summer has ever been hot enough to melt them,
At least not for long.

You are the snowy winter.

But I am the pink summer.

I am the peak
Of colorful and pesky
Wildflowers.
I am the sunset
At nine o'clock at night.
I am the breath of sweet, fresh air
That stirs all your hormones together,
Making you feel warm and happy and excited and giddy and alive
But most of all
Free.

I am the smell of gasoline
And charcoal.
I am sunshine storms
And the warm rain they bring.
I am bonfires
And bugspray
And camping trips
And awkward-but-memorable-outdoor-***
In a teeny little tent,
That almost always ends in giggle fits,
And feeling so entirely, and finally, whole.

I am heat exhaustion
And hurricanes
And itty-bitty green inchworms venturing away from their
Leafy trees
For the very first time.

I am passion.
I am feeling something with your whole heart.
I am bravery.
Meaning, I am being absolutely terrified, but doing the thing anyway.
I am feeling so much of one emotion at a time that it is the only thing you can feel.
I am the butterflies in your stomach,
If they were ever there at all.

I am warm
And free
And wild
And loving
And always, always there.
In some way,
Even if just a memory.

I am always fleeting.

I am summer.

You are winter.

You are hot apple cider,
And cocoa with too-big-marshmallows,
And flannel pajamas
And surprises
And christmas tree ornaments that I love for no other reason other than that I love them and I always have and always will.

You are cold winds
And painful, but important, memories.

You are the feeling of stability.
You are finally having some type of normalcy,
Away from the chaos.

We are polar opposites.
So much so,
That it makes us the same.

I know why summer is your favorite season.

But did I ever tell you how much I love winter?

Charles Dickens once said
"I have been bent and broken, but I hope, into a better shape."

I hope he's right.

And even if he wasn't,
Maybe I can be.

I feel like running until my calves burn,
And my chest is tight because
Asthma doesn't like letting me breathe.

I feel like closing out the world,
Collapsing in a field of long grass,
Watching rain clouds roll in,
Until the storm envelops me into the night time.

I feel like screaming as loud as I can,
And punching trees until the bark falls off,
And my knuckles are stained red,
And ache when I try to move my fingers.

Because I'm scared
That I've messed up royally,
And I thought I was so much better,
But faltering in progress
Makes me feel so awful,
And I want to be better,
But I can't be, I can't do this by myself.

I desperately would rather
Waking up sore because of you than because of running away,
And I'd rather lay out watching your colors spiral around me.
I would rather scream because I love you,
And I'd rather your fingers be interlaced with mine,
Than my knuckles be scarred over again.

****, I'm scared.

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.

I just can't with the
Lack of compassion
And I just can't with
The way the world is
And I just can't
Understand
What makes the hypocritical
Irrational
Spewing you do
Make sense.

I know neither option was good,
But the only good option
Got ******* over.
And we had hope for this world,
We had good things coming,
And say what you want
But I think compassion and caring
And thinking the best
Is much better than money
And power
And whatever is easiest for God-****-You.

There are things more important
Than money.
There are things more important
Than power and praise.

We have lost sight in that.

So I have lost faith in you, in us, in all that is human.

We, as a species, are lost.

And I just don't know
What can guide us back.

Can anything
Guide as back
On track?

Or are we doomed to repeat
The same mistakes,
The same war crimes,
The same mass genocide,
The same cruelty and hypocrisy
Over and over and over
Until we're gone and obliterated
And all that's left of humans
Of us
Is a depleting O-zone layer,
That may or may not be on its way to healing
By the time we're dead and dust.

And
I just can't
Bring myself to believe
This is it.

I think of myself as generally understanding, but:

why do anything that does not make you happy
if it does not better you
or others?

why allow yourself to be cruel
when it us much easier to be kind?

why disregard someone
who puts so much effort into caring?

I will never understand
the lack of what I have learned.

I was built
on equivalent exchange
and loyalty to loved ones
and never giving up.

I do not understand values
that do not include such.

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.

It seems every day,
In some way,
I become more like my father.

I remember telling you I was never gonna be like him.
I remember you telling me that you'd never be like yours.
And I remember thinking
"But your father isn't so bad at all."

I remember that, at the time, I felt ridiculously guilty for thinking that.

I don't feel so bad anymore.

I am becoming more like my father,
Because it feels like I'm constantly breaking promises
To people who were stupid enough to think
That I would keep them.
Because I am constantly breaking promises
To people who were stupid enough to think
I'd always love them.

The reason I am not like my father,
Is because I was stupid too.
It's because I was also stupid enough
To think that I could keep those promises.
I was stupid enough
To think I'd be able to love those people forever.

But, the problem is,
I am horrible at forgiving,
And I'm even worse at forgetting.

I remember one of the promises I made to you.
It was that I would always think fondly of you, no matter what.
Even if we stayed friends.
Even if we drifted apart.
Even if we never ever spoke again.

Today, I remembered how very much I hate you.

And today I also thought, verbatim,
"At least I don't look like an unfortunately pear-shaped crypt keeper like her."

I like to pretend that I didn't start hating you until a little towards the end of last year,
When I started dating the boy I've loved for more than a decade.

I like to try to convince myself of that.
I like to pretend that if that's how it happened, then I can act like I was a good friend, a good person, for a little longer than I was.

But the truth is,
I remember the day I started to hate you.

I remember when one of our mutual friends asked
If I still had a crush on "that guy from fifth grade".
I tried to tell her I didn't,
But that was a lie
And everyone involved in that conversation
Could tell
From how red I was turning.

I remember how deeply she frowned.
I remember her telling me
That you liked him too.

I remember how angry I was.
I remember almost throwing up.
I remember trying to convince myself
That it wasn't true.

I remember asking you.
I was laughing.
I was trying to act like I didn't believe it.

I remember you telling me it was true.
I also remember you telling me that you weren't going to act on it
Because of your "daddy issues" and your "trust issues"
And that even though you liked him a whole lot,
And lots of people had told you that he liked you too,
That you didn't really trust him.
"Besides," I remember how sweetly you smiled when you said this,
"It won't last long. And I kinda like watching him squirm."

You were trying to joke around,
You thought it would make me laugh,
Becquse at that point
I was kind of known for my dark sense of humor
And violent tendencies.

I remember how angry I was at you.
I remember wanting to scream at you.
I remember how hot my tears were.
I remember exactly what I wanted to say.

I wanted to tell you that there was no way you could possibly ever love him the way I did.
I remember wanting to tell you that I didn't care how close you two were, how well you knew him.
That I didn't care if he loved you or whatever.
I wanted to tell you that you could never ever possibly even imagine to care as much as I did.

You were too dishonest.
You were too fake.
You were too normal,
And I wanted to say that there was no way a ******* normal person
Could even fathom possessing
More love than I did.

But all I said to you,
After being too quiet for too long, was
"I have to go."

I remember rushing into the bathroom.
I remember throwing up.
I remembering sobbing on the bathroom floor for thirty minutes,
And when I went back to my class,
My teacher set me to the guidance counselor.
I sat in there for an hour and a half.
I refused to talk the entire time.
She ended up calling my dad,
And telling him that I needed some type of professional therapy
And that I should probably see a psychiatrist too.

What I remember that I didn't tell you,
Or anyone else, for that matter,
Was that I was sure that I would lose this.

Because you were, at this time, prettier than me.
And I was so sure he would fall head over heels for you.
And I remember thinking "How could he not?"
Because you were smart
And confident
And funny
And friendly
And charming
And nice,
And wore normal clothes
Like a normal person
And liked normal things
And had a normal family
And a normal house
And a normal life.

And isn't that all anyone would want?
Someone normal?

Because I sure as hell wasn't normal.
I was morbid
And spazzy
And I only ever wore black
Or dark red
Or dark purple.
And I carried around stuffed animals and dolls
And hid them in my locker or backpack
So people wouldn't think I was a complete basketcase.
And my mother was dying,
And my father was an alcoholic,
And my older brother was violent and angry
And I was the one raising my little brothers
And I always had bruises and cuts and scars
And I would only pretend to eat.
I didn't always have a house to live in
Or a bed to sleep in.
I even slept in the park
Across from the movie theatre
A few times.

And I was so sure,
That if you didn't already,
That you would absolutely love him.
I mean, how could you not?
He's sweet
And handsome
And kind
And smart
And polite
And (usually) gentle
And funny
And compassionate.

Before I had met him,
I didn't realize how drastically a person's eyes change in shade
When they care about someone
And that someone is hurt.

I didn't realize
How powerful a person's voice could be.
How a smile laced between words could make you feel like flying,
Or how being able to actually hear someone out up their walls
From how they're talking to you,
Can make you feel like you're dying.

I quickly learned what it felt like to love someone,
And to lose them,
Without even ever really having them.

Sometimes, I miss you.
Or, I miss who I thought you were.
Who you pretended to be.

I look at him,
And my heart bursts with color.

I think about you using him,
And I am drowning in inky, black rage.

I think about how he loved you,
And it kills me.
If the bravado you put on
Had really been who you were,
There would have been no way
That he would love me.

But that wasn't who you were.

You and I are very similar.
I mean, there has to be a reason he loved you then,
And me now.

Neither of us know how to successfully create bonds between ourselves and other people.
We don't know how to become a part of someone else.

The difference is,
You pretend to.
You create bonds,
So you can use people
To meet the ends
You so desire.

While I,
I tell them how badly it could go.
How I might not ever be able to entirely accept or believe that they love me.

The difference is,
You don't know how to create bonds.
So you make them for the sole purpose of using people
As though they are objects.
As though they are a means to an end.

And while I do not know how to make bonds,
I want to.
I desperately want to.
I don't want to love the people I love from a distance.
I want to love them up-close,
In real-time.

I want to help them.
I want to nurture them.
I want to make them smile.

The difference is,
I admit I'm a monster.
But at least I have a heart.

While you,
You are a monster that is pretending to be a person.

You have ever right to hate me.

And even still,
You don't.

This will always confuse me.