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Maxwell Dec 2016
I was a beautiful sculpture, you were the artist who tried to fix me but broke me instead. I was a painting, you the curious kid who touched me before I was dry. you ruined me. you smeared me. I was a plant growing, finding my place and you cut me down. Everything I grew again you cut me down to remind me that you control me.
it's been 3 years and you still control me. sometimes I'm outside with my dog or my sister or my nephews or myself. sometimes I'm outside and I'm so scared that you'll walk down my street again. you walked down my street the other day. my heart **** near fell out of my chest. I was scared and I wanted to yell at you and demand to know why me. I was only 14. for 14 years my mom kept me safe. I was wrapped in bubble wrap but you popped it all and touched me. I was a balloon, seeing the bright of the world, the beautiful bright positive world. you were a needle and with one touch I fell back to the ground and I saw only dark. I wanted to be in the ground. I wanted to be the dark.
No one wants a broken balloon,no one wants a smudged painting, or a dying plant or a statue that is falling apart. no one wants the broken one.... I'm not the broken one. I'm the balloon covered in tape. my air still leaks when I'm touched but I just blow myself back up and retape my edges. I used new colors and I created a new painting from what I had. I still have smudges but *******, just look at those colors. I'm no longer a dying plant, I'm just proving that I can grow from nothing. Watch me grow. I may be a broken statue but now I have character. my pieces formed a new statue. this statue is stronger.
you are not an artist but a critic. you said no one but you could love my flaws. my flaws are the best things about me. these make me everything you never liked about me and let me tell you, I found more bubble wrap.
I still want to know why me but I've realized you have no reason. people like you never do. but don't worry about me, one day I'll be in a museum I just have some more work to do. I just need to spend some more time on myself.  you will see me in a museum and say "look any my hands, I hold those colors" No, your hands will hold faded dark colors and I will be bright. your hands will hold the wrong pieces, you do not fit in the puzzle I call my life. one day I will not have any pieces missing but right now I do and I've learned that's okay. I'm okay.
everything is okay. everything will be okay. go wash your hands, don't touch the statue, leave the plants alone, put the needle away. my art does not need you to fix it. I am my own artist.
Maxwell Sep 2015
A few weeks ago I was given flowers.
Pink, yellow, white and a touch of purple all in a pretty vase.
On my dresser they sat and everyday I saw them.
As time went by they started to turn brown.
They curled in on themselves like a baby in the womb
And soon after that they began to fall,
just like leaves on an October night.
A few of the flowers still remained beautiful,
they still had that sweet smell.
I picked their petals and saved their beauty.
I pressed them in a book to  preserve their looks
These petals sat on my dresser,
day after day.
Their color faded, like an artists painting gone wrong.
what used to be beautiful became nothing more than a mess,
I just wanted to save the beauty.
The beauty of the first kiss, the first love, that first time,
the feeling I wanted to save.
But there have been more kisses, another love, a new path.
And just as the flowers on my dresser died so sudden
my walls fell down, my heart opened up, my path changed.
Just yesterday I was outside with that new love
and I saw a flower growing in between the sidewalk cracks.
Beautiful, new, fighting for a chance.
It was there that I realized; beautiful things are not ours to take.
And if something wants to grow then it will find a way to grow.
All because a few weeks ago I was given flowers.
My boyfriend recently got me flowers and over time they have started to die. One day while looking at them this poem came to me.
  Aug 2015 Maxwell
joey nix
I'm an independent woman
She said
He reached out and she took his hand
I know
He said

I've never needed anyone else in my life
She said
He pulled her closer
I know
He said

I've got this, I can handle it myself
She said
He put his arms around her
I know
He said

I have lived this long alone and well
She said
They embrace tightly, no space between
I know
He said

Don't ever let me go
She said
Kissing him, they breathe each other in
I won't, ever
He said
Maxwell Jun 2015
I kissed the scars on your skin, I still think you're beautiful. But I don't think words can express your beauty. You know.. they say that love is forever and your forever is all that I need. I've heard them say "This is your time, you better make it, it could be gone before you know." They're right, when you have today you should say all that you have to say. I can't promise that things won't be broken but I swear that I will never leave and all I know is not one should have to be alone. I am free now, free to live without my fears I believe now there's a reason why I'm here and the reason is you. I just wonder, is there a right way for being strong because it feels like I'm doing things all wrong. I wanna watch the world end with you, honestly I just wanna take your time. One day I wanna marry you because you're amazing just the way you are.That day I'll look at you and say "I said I'd never let you go and  I never did." Because I'min love with you and all your little things. I fall in love with you everyday and I just wanna tell you your smile's forever in my mind and memory. If I let you know I'm here for you maybe you'll love yourself like I love you. When I'm without you no words can explain the way I'm missing you. I don't care what your past is, I won't let you go. When you need me just tell me and I'll be there. I'm here when you are sad, when all your clouds turn black. I'd never ask you to change because you're amazing just the way you are and I think I wanna marry you.
Different songs I turned into a poem.
Maxwell Jun 2015
What my body needs to say...
"Relax, things won't always be this way."
"...But what if they are?"
"Then we get through it. Our feet still walk where we need to go, our eyes still see the sun, our ears still listen and hear the positivity above the hate...relax, our skin feels the sun and the touch or him, and our lips can still smile. I promise, I'm becoming you just give me some more time. These scars will fade and become a distant memory but our journey will not end. You're okay, we're okay.. just hold on a little longer."
My prompt was to write about what you need to hear from your body or to write a different ending for your body's story
Maxwell Jun 2015
A bridge between the trees and above the water.
Stop, listen....
The trees are whispering their stories through the wind.
The water rushes under your feet.
Birds tells stories to one another back and forth, back and forth.
The air begins to get colder and the sin goes away for the night.
A blend of orange, pink, red painting a picture in front of you.
Smell the water and the trees becoming one with the wind.
And feel yourself letting go of everything and letting in the bridge.
This bridge is life's eraser erasing all those nasty words and replacing them with all different sights and sounds.
A bridge between the tress bridges the gap from one smile to the next
The prompt to write about was a time you listened to your body. Down the street from my house is a bridge that very few people know about. It's somewhere I go to when I'm having a bad day, it's somewhere I feel safe and happy
Maxwell Jun 2015
Eyes opened at birth and saw the world.
Eyes saw love and happiness before the mind realized corruption and madness.
Eyes see little glimpses of hope in the dark of the night, that one star that shines the brightest.
Every night they close and let my mind see for a change.
Every morning they open allowing my to see colors & sunsets & love & hope & peace.
Eyes have scanned countless books, everyone finding a place in the house of the eyes.
These eyes have cried countless tears, many from sadness, some from hate, few from happiness.
Eyes that have sparkled with joy.
Eyes that find the bright star in a dark night and don't let it slip
My writing prompt was to write about one part of my body that I appreciate.
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