And I'm small when I whisper,
"I just feel like
I'm sitting out in a rain storm,
Holding an umbrella over a little fire
To keep the world from blowing it out,
And so far I'm succeeding,
But they're trying so very hard,
And I just don't know why
They want to blow out my my fire?
All it does is make the dark of the storm,
A little brighter."

And the little flicker of hope in my heart
Responds so brightly,
I almost forget about my fire.
"Because," She says, "You're strong enough to handle it."
"And if the worlds adds more shrapnel to your pyre,
You will have to burn all the brighter."

So I'll sit out in the rainstorm,
With an umbrella and a cold,
Protecting this little fire,
And I think I'll be okay.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I love in extremes,
And I love you too much.

There is all of me,
And then there is all of me.

I love you with all that I am,
And with all that I have,
And I love you too much,
But I'd rather love you too much,
Than not at all.

Because I either love and care
With every part of me,
Or I don't seem to care for caring
At all.

I love you too much,
But I love you so much,
That too much is okay.

And you're the light
That makes my heart so bright,
And maybe I love you too much,
But if I give you all of me,
Will you gladly accept?

It's a risk
I am more
Than willing
To take.

Settle roots
Inside my heart,
And call it home.
I love you too much,
Can we watch our roots grow?

Your smile and care
Planted a seed within me,
And now I sit among the branches
Of the tree it has become,
Swinging my legs,
Smiling at you from afar.
And we've come so far,
And I love you too much.

I'm a bandit,
Can't you tell?
I take the things I think I deserve,
Whether they be mine to take
Or mine to lose.

And I'm lost without you
Loving me,
But I'm found within me
Loving you.

And I have a lot of choices
I've had to make,
But each and every time,
It's you I'd choose.
No matter what guilty soul
I might lose.

I'm an old soul,
Can't you tell?
I'm the type of person
People come to, to be healed,
But I end up getting used.

And it's not that I mind,
I guess you could say I don't.
I like helping people,
And I grow to love much too easy.

Losing them,
It happens.
People walk away,
Sure it hurts,
But c'est la vie.

I'm an outlier,
Don't you know?
I'm not quite the same,
I'm not quite like the others.
So go ahead and walk out,
Why would you bother?

I push people away,
I fear the future
And myself.
I don't see a point
In people sticking around.

I'm the type of person,
That changes the way you view the world,
But I'm not the type of person
People keep around.
But I am the type of person
That would stay with you forever
If only you asked.

I would hold your heart,
For more than forever,
For more than always,
If given the chance.

Because I'm a bandit,
Can't you tell?
I take the things I think I deserve,
Whether they be mine to take
Or mine to lose.

Don't talk like that.
Don't do that to me.
Don't tell me that this happens
I don't want that to happen.

I can't handle it
This night is bad enough,
And it makes me so scared
That the secondary feeling of anger
Is fluttering around in my heart,
Because I know you love me.
And I know you want to stay,
And I know you're going to stay.

Please make this stop.

"What do you do with your time?"
"How do you spend your days?"
"What have you done with your life?"

I'm a writer, so really, what do you expect from me?
I've spend my days brooding and type type typing away.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I wish I could hold you.
I wish I could touch you.
But the distance is too far,
The distance is too wide--
For now.

And my eyelids
Are heavy.
I want to drift off
Into some type of
Week long sleep.

I miss you
More than I think you can understand.

And sometimes I wonder,
Did I ever love anyone before you?

Because I don't really think I did.
I don't think I ever did.

And if I did,
It wasn't quite the same
As this.

Love is a funny thing.
It's always the same,
And it's always different.

But I know how I love you.
I know it's the type of love
That will take a lifetime to get over,
And I know it's the type of love
That lasts forever.

And what can I say?
I love you so,
Do you even know?
There is night, just as there is day,
Filling me with color, when I once was grey.
But your heart makes mine grow,
Have you even seen how you make my eyes glow?
And now I can only pray,

That you know that all that I am,
Is for you and only you.
I will do all that I can,
To be yours and that is truer than true.

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

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

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

It is simply that
We are very, very different.

I realized this last night.

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

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

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

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

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

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

I am sorry.

I can assure you, it will not happen again.

You'll leave,
Just like everyone else.

I re-re-re-re-repe-repea-repeat
just like a broken record.

But, surprise.

It wasn't you.

Sometimes i just want
to disappear
and sometimes I just want
to be seen.

and sometimes
I'm too caught up
in the in between.

I've never been
One to allow myself
To get invested
And attached.

But hey, look.
You're something
I'd definitely have trouble
Getting over,
If I got over you
At all.

It was written
In my book of life,
Using my blood as ink,
Not that I mind.

I have scars to bare,
That show my own story,
That I wrote
However poorly.

And I remember vividly,
I believe it was seventh grade,
Other students stirring a panic,
Because I drew a rainstorm
In red ink.

And I remember
Confessing my ailment,
And it being used against me.

I remember
The destruction of my name
Upon things I'd never dare to do.

For mortal men
Will not find pride in your smile,
Rather shame in your scowl.

But such is the nature of cowards,
And I have found
That I am needless
Of cowards,
And cowards are hopeless.

I have found
In search through the mortal kind,
A being of the same like
As myself.

While our differences are
Many,
What makes us the same
Is powerful
And compatible
Enough.

Now, darling dear,
I have made a choice.
If they would halt their attacks,
I will finally
Erase myself
From his narrative,

For you are the
Only choice for me.

It is human nature
To feel torn down
But it is the nature
Of hope
To build you back up.

I am on my own.
I am not alone, though,
Which is odd.

I desperately want
To stand on my own two feet,
But could you hold my hand,
And stand with me?

I want to save myself,
I want to fight my own battles,
But it would be nice
If you had my back.

I want to be my own person,
But can you be your own person next to me?
I want to hold your hand,
For a moment,
And see if we fit
Together.

I believe
In the red string of fate.
I hope ours might
Just maybe
Lead together,
After all these years.

I dreamt that you left
not-so secret words
in not-so secret messages
where those who I made mention of
in a different verse
brought upon
such the curse.

"do you love her more?"
the wretched ***** typed to you
"hardly,"
was your cold response

and through my tears
I had screamed and cried
and yet you still
refused to deny
it.

and I know my mind plays tricks on me
because I know you love me now
more than you loved her then
but I need the reassurance
that my logic is sound.

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

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

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

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

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

I am the poison you know
All too well.

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

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

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

I hate the way you smile when you talk about her,
I hate the way you look forlorn when you think about what you did.
I hate that I wasn't there to be part of what you were.
I hate that I'm always second best, always outdid.

I hate the way I melt when our eyes meet.
I hate the way the toxins disperse.
I hate the way your eyes make my voice sweet,
I hate the way I make it so much worse.

I hate that I see love in your colors,
And I hate that I don't know if its' mine,
Or if its' others.
But I love the way those colors shine.

But most of all I hate that I can't hate you, even if I had to.
Because it's true. I have always loved you.

I sign my letters
usually with a dash and then my name,
or a "Yours Truly,"
because of a song I heard
when I was, I think, seventeen.

maybe eighteen.

but if I were to write you
a letter
I'd fill it with all the different ways
you light up my soul
or all the different ways
you fill up my heart

and if I were to write you,
I'd kiss the seal of the envelope
to make sure you felt me somehow,
and if I were to write you,
I'd send the letter with sugar and oatmeal raisin cookies,
and red and black tea.
and if I were to write you,
I wouldn't unless you were too far away
to hold.

because as much as I simply adore letters
and the written word
having you in my arms now
is much too important
to miss out on.

yours truly,
and yours forever.

I am trying to inch my way
inside your head.

I will crawl and trudge through the muck
and grime

I have seen
terrible things
but even still
I cannot fathom
what would possess you
to do what you have done.

But look where the ocean meets the skyline,
And we're not so different,
Because as long as we're under the same sky,
I think we'll be okay.

Take up the orange-red of the sunset,
And soak in the sun drenched yellow
That makes up the sidewalks I used to wait around on,
And the colors of a sea and sky I've never known,
And together,
Almost overwhelmingly so,
It'll make something beyond compare.

I have been told bravery has nothing to do with
A lack of fear.
Bravery is being afraid,
Acknowledging the potential for danger,
And going in headlong anyway.

So I guess it makes me brave,
Getting back up,
Moving forward,
And holding your hand.

Do not rely on patterns,
Or mathematical probability,
Or scientific fact.

Patterns **** up.
Mathematical probability can be miscalculated,
And scientific fact can be proven wrong,
Upon another finding.

I close my eyes and I see storms rolling in,
And ignore the smell of rain on the wind,
Because I could be struck by lightening a thousand times,
And I'd still rather that than

Losing
You.

And suddenly there's a song in the background
(Thanks, autoplay.)
That makes me realize
(Ever so slowly, as my fingers slow in pace on the keyboard)
This isn't just my being lucky enough
To have you.
A life without you
Seems a lot less vibrant
As I struggle to picture
The juxtaposition
Of a life by your side
And a life without.

And maybe the fear
Of becoming yours
And becoming attached
Is more like my fear of heights
Than my fear of the dark.

It isn't heights I'm afraid of.
It's falling from them.

I'm not afraid of being part of your life,
Of living a life with you by my side,
I'm frightened by a life without you there.

I'm a whole person,
Don't get me wrong.
But there's a part of me
That's easier to show to you
Than for me to see,
And I like who I am
With you,
Better than the person I am
Without you.

I am a better me,
Because of my Bluebird.

I know I'm a little disjointed,
A little matter-of-fact,
Not too swift on the uptake.
Part of it could be repressing the good parts of life for so long,
The other part could be being blind to them,
For so very long.

I rhyme better
when I'm not thinking.
and I think better
with better flow
when I don't stop to think
of what I know.

and it's cold
and it's windy
and I can't think
of why I'm here,
and I wish I could vanish
just disappear

but i can't
I won't
that's not my
game
that's not how
I play.

I am shivering and frozen and missing you
and I wonder what I can do
to keep the winds
from making me colder still
and I wonder if you will
follow me through
what I've lost
and what I've gained?
older still,
I forget the name
of what the whole point
was.

but not that it matters
as long as you are mine.

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

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

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

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

Humans like to think
Other humans are
Replaceable.
Humans like to think
That they themselves
Are not.

But let me let you in on a secret:
Everyone is either a lesson
Or a blessing.

No lesson can be replaced,
And neither can any blessing.

Because in some way,
They were necessary to make you who you are.

I was told recently
About a book.
"The Missing Piece" by Shel Silverstein.

The lesson I was given from this book,
Is that you can have all kinds of pieces!
Pieces that don't fit, pieces that would never fit,
And pieces that look like they should fit but don't at all.

So if you ever feel replaceable,
Remember you are someone's perfect missing piece.
You just have to sort out through all the not-so perfect pieces first.

And before I cut this off,
I should explain,
Your perfect piece is not perfect because it is perfect in the textbook definition of the word.
Your piece is perfect
Because you will be so completely perfect to someone (All your damage, broken parts, and scars too) that you will not need to be perfect, no.

You will just have to be you,
And that in itself
Is irreplaceable.

I should have you know,
I'm absolutely petrified.
Even the slightest movement,
In this mindset,
Could result in another
Scathing burn to the
Raw flesh
Of my heart.

But I should have you know
I don't give a **** anymore.
I will walk through
Ice or Fire
To see you smile,
To make you laugh.

I will sprint through fire,
Let it burn me,
I will dance through the ice,
Let it freeze me, let it numb me
I will be defiant
And I will feel.

I should have you know,
I love you with all that I am.

And I should have you know,
I know you love me,
And I know you want to stay,
So stay
So stay
So stay.

I know you're going to stay,
So just tell me
Just tell me
You'll stay.

In
One two three
Out
One two three.

Oxygen isn't as important
As pretending it's fine.
I feel this weird shattering
In my chest
It's not depression
I'm sure,
It's the last of this
Little hardened iron shell
That I wrap around myself
Shattering utterly and entirely.

The rust and steel is
Falling apart
And I realize
You're about to see
The most vulnerable part of me
And I'm very
Very
Afraid.

Not of you
But of the shattering parts
Of me.

Isn't it curious
That coincidences don't
Seem so much like coincidences
Anymore?

Sure,
Maybe it was some kind of
Coincidence
That I've loved you all this time,
And that now you're mine to love and to hold,
But I'd like to think
That fate has a funny way
Of bringing people together.

I wanted to be yours,
Yes,
Each and every day before
I finally was.
But was I fit to be yours?
No.
I wasn't quite whole,
I wasn't quite steady.
I didn't quite know
Who I was.

But I am yours,
Through and through.
My heart will always
Belong to you.

But isn't it curious
How life has such a funny way
Of playing out?

There's a type of loneliness
That comes with isolation.
I know it well,
I've been in the psychiatric hospital
Five different times.

It's the same kind
Of loneliness.
It's the kind
Where you know people care
But you can't reach them
And for whatever reason,
They can't reach you.

And you're not entirely isolated.
Just mostly so.
And it's not a punishment,
Not like the usual kind of isolation,
It's just necessary,
For whatever reason.

But it's okay.
It won't last too long.

I stretch my sore arms out
Spread my fingers as far apart as they'll go.

I open my mouth,
And with my yawn comes a mighty roar from behind my sternum.

I try not to flinch,
But that old wound hasn't healed entirely
Just yet.

I can feel myself
Begin to crumble from the weight of
My own voice.

But I dig my heels
Of the feet attached to my aching legs into the burning, ashen ground.

I stare up at the blazing sky.
Twinkle of mischief in my eye.

Tell them to rest easy--

The dearly departed.
Because I'm just getting started.

I play with your hair,
And then feel the desire to laugh
At the mess I made of it.

Your voice fills my ears
And light fills my heart
And love fills me up
Entirely.

I love the way you think,
And the way you speak,
And the way your thoughts bounce from one end
Of your train of thought
To the other.

I love the way your eyebrows pull together
When you're focusing,
And the way your eyes flicker
When you shift focus.

I love the way you reach over to kiss me,
When you're playing video games
And I'm typing another poem.

And I love the way your voice sounds,
Usually matter-of-fact,
Often times, around your friends,
Full and orotund.

I guess,
I just love all of you.
And I can't stand it,
So I guess I'll sit down.

Got me sweating
got me nervous
I'm worried and a little bit
unprepared.
got me scared.

but pleasure and passion
toil inside me
and I can feel all that I am
yearning for you
pooling in the pit
of my stomach.

my neck is red with
love you gave me
and my face is red
with a blush that
you put there.

and all in all
it's been a good day
but I'm no good
at peopling
and I'm no good
at speaking my mind
over my fears and anxieties.

I love you,
and while I am sore and somewhat impassioned,
I've found that I need you,
in more ways than one.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I try not to think.

“What we had went so much deeper than a kiss.
When we were together, she turned me completely inside out. It didn’t matter if we were dead or alive. We could never be kept apart. There were some things more powerful than worlds or universes. She was my world, as much as I was hers. What we had, we knew.
The poems are all wrong. It’s a bang, a really big bang. Not a whimper.
And sometimes gold can stay.
Anybody who’s ever been in love can tell you that.” –pg. 421 of Beautiful Redemption by Kami Garcia and Margaret Stohl.

And didn't you know
That this is how I've always felt about you,
And my most fantastic dream
Wasn't a type of fairy tale *******,
It was laughing and working through problems.
It was my understanding you
And you understanding me,
And it astounds me
That even at the worst
We've found it.

And nothing can keep me from you,
Because red strings don't work like that.
I am meant to be yours
Just as you're meant to be mine.

No one can ever
Tell me otherwise.

Let there be worlds between us,
Let there be trials and tribulations
Of the most dangerous and detrimental kind,
And I promise I will find you,
Each and every time.

Because you don't just walk away from someone,
Love isn't about the times when keeping on is easy--
It's about when it's the hardest thing to do.
And I will do it,
Through and through.

I thought
The alcohol
Would make me feel
Less alone
A little more confident
But instead
I feel invisible.

So much
For liquid confidence.

I could hold up the world
With a single phrase.
I could stop it from spinning,
With a single action,
But what would be the point
Of halting something so tragically beautiful?

And no,
Maybe you're better off without me.
But I'm sure not
Better off without you.
And maybe that's a little selfish,
But when have I been any different?

She said a thousand times,
Or at least it rung a thousand ways,
I only care about myself.
And while I know that's not true,
If that's how she sees me,
Then hell, maybe I'll paint a better image.

But I'm not chasing anyone
Ever again.
Not her,
Not anyone.

And it's pouring rain,
And I'm remembering things
That it's probably bad for me to think about,
And I'm freezing cold,
But I'd only want it one other way.

And maybe,
Just maybe,
I'm better off now.
You can miss someone
Without wanting them back in your life.

And maybe,
Just maybe,
I could make you dinner some night (or every night),
And we can laugh and talk until we fall asleep,
And we can live the type of life
Where you can be you,
And I can be me.

I am sick.

I have to keep telling myself that.

It's just a sickness that eats away at your heart,
Making you feel unworthy,
Useless,
Pointless.

And with proper treatment,
It can be lessened,
Though it will never go away.

It's just a sickness that deteriorates
Your self esteem,
Your confidence (if you had any to begin with),
And your relationships with others,
Because you sabotage all of them.

It's a sickness, right?
Because you get so tired of fighting it,
Tired of pretending to be okay,
Tired of being tired.
And dear God, you're so very tired.

And everything hurts,
And your patience is thinning,
Because you feel hopeless,
And the meds aren't working as quickly as you would have liked,
And you're still going through a harsh withdrawl from medications
The doctor told you to stop.

But there's just enough fight left in you,
Where all you want is to feel better
So you can laugh again.
So you don't make him so sad and worried.

It's a sickness, I am sure.
Because I feel so sick of it.

So I'm not so fond of the latter,
So let's find something a little more doable,
And I'm sorry if I don't seem amicable,
But let's get the ball rolling.

I can write
And I can fight,
And let's just pretend I've got the gall,
But I'm not so on the ball,
To be honest,
But let's get this started
I promise, I'm trying my best.

I love you dearly,
I love you sincerely,
And nightmares leave me gasping,
Suffocating,
And your kind words
And voice,
It's like oxygen to lungs deprived of air.

I can breathe again,
And suddenly I'm okay,
And the tension in my shoulders
Loosens ever so slightly,
And the burning pain in my muscles
Stops,
Because peace has finally been found,

Within the heart of a Bluebird
I am lucky enough
To call my own.
I'll never have to face
These demons alone,
And for that I am grateful,
Entirely and truly.

I don't know this feeling.
This fluttering in my stomach,
This anxiously awaiting a message,
This feeling of mutual respect
And care.

I don't know this feeling,
Being told not to feel bad
Or told not be embarrassed.
Being told that I am endearing,
Not insane.

Of someone looking forward
To speaking to me,
To seeing me,
Asking if it's okay
If they contact me as soon as they can.

Warning me that they'll be busy,
So they won't be able to respond a lot,
But that they'd still like to hear from me.

Because apparently I am
"Sweet and cute."
And "absolutely gorgeous"
And "completely awesome".

Because apparently I have a
"Good heart,"
However scarred I believe it to be.

My therapist says
You cannot go from loving someone
To disowning every memory of them
In two days.

My therapist says
I was in love with the memory of the person you were,
Not the angry monster you've become.

And even though I hate that I started falling out of love with you
Very rapidly
Mid February,
And I only gave you parts of me to convince myself otherwise,
And even though I hate that part of me will always love you,
I am so glad that I have grown to see your faults,
And that your funny-face selfies
Are not longer endearing,
But irritating.

Deleting your pictures off my phone
Was painful,
But once it was done,
The freedom was so good and pure.

I do not regret loving you.
But I do regret not being the one that left you,
Instead of you leaving me.

But you say
I am a monster,
And that is fine.
I am a hurricane of life
But monster is a nice word too.

And she says I was selfish,
I wish she'd look in a mirror.
She really needs to.

But he sees my worth,
My value
And likes seeing me.
Likes talking to me.
And it's not weird.
I don't feel the need to occupy all his time,
Because I don't feel like he'll drop me
The moment he finds someone "better".

I have so many things to tell you,
Most of which are how happy I am right now,
And the rest are telling you to *******.

I'll be sending you a package soon,
With your shirt and the ring attached to the necklace your mom gave me.
I'm giving the necklace back too.

There will be no letter.
No kind words.

Maybe a nickleback CD and a book on how to not be a ****.

But otherwise, nothing.

It is uncommon these days
To be satisfied and content with life.
Last night was the first night in a month that my insomnia got to me.
I was scared I'd wake up in a bad place when I finally slept.

I woke up, and after the nausea from the nightmares passed,
I received  a message from him.
And a simple apology and good morning and being told that I'm endearing,
Well it made me so much happier than you ever did.

Because there  was always some type of double meaning,
Some type of venom lacing your words.

He's upfront, and honest.
I don't quite understand how he makes me so happy.
Maybe it's because I finally like myself,
And he helps me figure out more ways to find good in me,
And you only ever made me see the bad in myself.

Your hollow apology for that goes unforgiven, by the way.

It is uncommon to be so much as satisfied
In this day and age.
Don't even get me started
On the rarity of the happiness
I'm feeling.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Do you want the answer?
Will you chance her?

"Why is a raven like a writing desk?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

But you don't even know.

It's cold tonight,
And so am I.

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

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

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

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

It's cold tonight,
And so am I.

I can feel the rain coming in,
But it's always been that way.
I've always been that way.
Like how a cat can feel storms approaching,
Due to the static electricity increasing beneath their fur,
I've always been able to tell when
The rain is about to come down.

Maybe it's the way my head feels heavier than usual,
Or that no sunlight comes through the blinds.
Or maybe it's that my ears ache for the thunder,
And when it does, it sends a shiver down my spine.

I hate the rain.
The way it leaves you cold
And shaking like a leaf.
I hate the thunder.
The way it drowns out all other noise.
I hate the lightning,
The way it paints everything black and white,
And strips the world of relief in its silence.

I hate the rain,
But it is a part of me.

How you can love me
Even with my moods,
Even with my short temper,
No matter how just or unjust.
That you can love me
Almost because of my laughing at my own jokes
A little too hard,
Or finding stupid little things
A little too funny.

How you can love me,
Even when I'm too tired to properly say goodbye
To you in the morning.
When my nightmares wake me up,
And then I proceed to wake you up.
How you can love me
Maybe despite all my scars and wounds,
Or maybe even because of them.

I just find it so crazy,
That you love me.

But I've learned to accept it,
That maybe I'm worthy of the love
I keep trying to give.
That being
The unconditional,
Comforting,
Appreciative,
Finally being home,
And finally being free,
Kind of love.

And that's how you make me feel.
Worthy, and comforted, and like I'm finally home and finally free.

I couldn't be more grateful if I tried.

Am I pretty enough?

Am I worthwhile enough?

Am I honest enough?

Am I aware enough?

Am I there enough?

Am I smart enough?

Do I cook enough?

Do I clean enough?

Am I talented enough?

Am I nice enough?

Am I assertive enough?

I know I'm not confident enough
But

Sobs wrack my body,
And I don't know if I'm good enough,
And I'm terrified
That you'll see me the way everyone else does
Broken and terrified
A shell of something that once was strong and human.

And my hands shake as I type
Backspace after backspace
Because I keep mistyping
And I keep needing to pause to breathe
Because I'm being too honest,
And God, it hurts.

I'm so scared
That you'll see me as this broken little shell
Not worth the time to mend,
And that's why maybe you don't see me as beautiful
Or strong
Or anything good,
And I guess this is just how I feel,
I have no idea what you think.

I want my opinions to be worthwhile
And I want to know if I ever make you smile,
And if you think I'm smart or funny,
Or if I make things easier or better,
Or if I'm just a burden you have to carry now.

Stop.
Breathe.
Wipe the tears away.
Breathe.

I don't have much to offer,
I'm not the brightest in comparison,
And I'm not the best
At really anything.

So let me offer to you
A few poems I wracked my brain for,
And some pictures I think I made
Look a little nicer.

I know it's not much,
But it's really all I have.
I'd offer you my heart,
But you took that already.

I hope you don't mind,
It's really not much,
But these words
And pictures
They're really all I have.

Take them with ease,
Please,
And take them with care.

"It's raining."

My tears shed for you to stay
Only bounced off you, raining down on me in ricochet.
Now you hate me for not chasing you,
But what was I supposed to do?
I was too busy trying to wade through
All the blood
You let flood
My lungs,
And no matter how many times
My punctured heart begged for a bandage,
You just managed
To blame it on my damage,
And I believed you,
And that's what gave me the will to leave you.

"It's raining."

You always have a way of coming back,
My apologies as I let you back in becoming our soundtrack.

"It's raining."

What would you say?
What would you see?
If I told you "Don't stay,"
If I lied through my teeth:
"You meant nothing to me."

"It's raining."

Sometimes I worry about you,
Living this life without you,
And even though I don't believe the same,
I clasp my hands together, and speak His name.
I desperately call out to your God,
"Even if it's from abroad,
Keep her safe."
And the words rub into my bones,
Your words grate
My bones.
I'm not coming home,
So don't wait up,
Tricking me back with some apology you just made up.

"It's raining."

I sit up at night, hiding behind a paperback,
Greeting the night sky as an insomniac.
I never meant to hurt you,
But I'm never coming back.

"It's raining."

You hurt me,
But then he heard me.
And urged me
To love my injuries
Back to sanity,
And he turned me
Back to the me
You took without mercy,
Despite my desperate pleas.
But he held my hand and squeezed,
Told me I'm not a disease,
That it's safe now, I can come back to me.

"It's raining"

Instead, I came back to him,
Whoever I was when I was yours becoming a mere psuedonym.

"It's raining."

He brings me home from the other side,
Holding my hand through the longs nights,
While I learn to become our light.
He reminds me to stay alive,

It's raining.

I thought about you a lot,
Those years apart.

What if I had
Opened up this blackened rib cage
And revealed a heart,
A little scarred,
A little beaten,
Would you treat it the same
As the whole, healed heart
You see on my sleeve now?

I think of sitting in the rain,
Alone on the curb of the street.
Rain was soaking through my sweatshirt,
Soaking through to chill my bones.
I think of getting home and being too tired to change out
Of my soaked through clothing, but doing it anyway.
Of ratty t-shirts and jean shorts,
Because the only warmth I wanted didn't exist.

I think of wrapping myself tightly in my blanket,
And softly sniffling until I sleep,
Fear of the nightmares
Of the blood
Of the fire
Of the guilt.

I think of when the house smelled faintly of the wood stove,
And dog fur.
And I could hear the laughter and quarrels of siblings, foster and genetic alike, below my room.

I think of screaming in the car
After some bad news,
Poorly singing (and sobbing) along to a song
I'll sing over and over and over until my voice goes out.

Think of rain
Think of snow
Think of winter and the ache in my bones
Think of how loss was all I knew
Before I knew you.

I think of the smell of burning newspaper
And I think of friends I don't talk to,
And I think of what I thought I knew
Before you.

I was not born to suffer.
I was not born to run.

I have suffered.
I have ran.

I was not born screaming.
My teeth were not bared.
There was no blood on my body.

This fight in my heart,
This rebel yell,
I was not born with them.
I taught myself this.

These bloodied hands and fists,
These rubbed-raw-by-gravel feet,
I was not born with them.
I learned this.

This gold heart,
These tender words.
I was born with them.

I will leave screaming,
I will leave with my teeth bared.
I will leave bloodied.

I was not born to suffer.
I was not born to run.

I have suffered.

I will run no longer.

I used to be thick, inky black regret
Spilling out of an old, tightly closed glass coca cola bottle.

I used to be road rash.

I used to be getting stuck too many times at the hospital, and still no luck with the IV.

I used to be "but these pills are such a pretty color..."

I used to be "but what else is there for me?"

I used to be a lot of things.

Now I am just the blood in your veins,
I am the chilled fall air,
And I the oxygen in your lungs,
I am the carbon of your bones.

I am marrow,
I am mind.
I am all you know,
And each twist in time.

I am the worlds end,
And I am the worlds start.

I am every single part,
Every single note
Of every single quote

I thought I left behind.

You are the air that I breathe,
The songs that I sing.
You are the sunsetsunrise
That I need.

You are the moonrisemoonset
The noon time
I never met

Your heart is all I ever needed
And I am so proud to keep it.

I used to think:
Who am I if I am not one with the rain?
Who am I if I am not a storm rolling through?

Who am I if I am not loyal to a fault?
Who am I if I don't risk everything for those I love?

I used to think,
Who am I if I don't fit here?
Who am I if I don't belong here?
Who am I if I'm not like everyone else?

Misshapen puzzle pieces,
Malformed from being left in the rain and sun-dried.
Cardboard hearts with self-inflicted paper cuts
And ribbons tied too tight to look elegant.

I used to think,
Who am I if I'm not who I wanted to be,
And I used to think,
Who am I if I hurt someone I care for?
Who am I if I fear storms?
Who am I if I stand up for myself and fail?

I used to think constantly,
But here's the key:
Don't think,
Don't try,
Act.

I am misshapen puzzle pieces
Left out to dry in the sun.
I am orange and black caterpillars,
And I am yellowing pages of old cloth bound books,
And I am one within the flames
That threaten to devour you.
I am garden snakes
And murders of crows.

It takes a long time to find who you are,
But once you take the time to find whoever it is
You're meant to be,
Well I have to say,
That journey takes some bravery.

I used to think.