every poem has a sheet
over it,
protecting life from its deeper meaning.
i will not do that,
I will let this world know what it does
to the people.
my friend took His
to save mine.
the world pushed me down
into a hole.
But my friend
pulled me out.
still I ran away,
toward the world.
everytime, He was there.
by my side.

Eat Eat Eat,
that's what my friends say.
that's what they ask of me.
is to eat.
so that my belly won't growl
and I won't be hungry.
but the growl of my stomach
is a better feeling of relaxation
than the regret of eating,
and feeling like a pig.

When Pluto was left out,
she grew sad and cold.
When Pluto was picked on,
she grew smaller.
I spread around warmth and
welcoming smiles
because I too know
what it's like to be
cold and sad.
to not be able to smile.

Caught in a daze,
thinking of your lips
against mine.
caught in a maze,
and to your surprise
its about you.
you are the start
and the finish line.
the middle and the end.
the chocolate and vanilla swirl that everyone picks,
that I pick,
but I cant have.
so I ginore.
i ignore these feelings for you
like the stars ignore the sun.
hoping that it'll go away,
but it hasn't.
so I pretend is was never there.
but ill end up
thinking of it more and more.
each day you cloud my thoughts
but of course,
I ignore.

sometimes i hope
he cries.
sometimes i hope
he dies.
but sometimes,
ill wonder if he misses me.
the way we spoke,
like the world was collasping
and our hearts
were attaching.
but now I sit here.
think of you.
thinking of this sourly
drawn world
which is still put together into one.
thinking of our hearts.
which aren't out together
with one another.
they're spread out,
wept out,
cried out,
but the tears of me.
tears of our souls.
today a masterpiece.
tomorrow a heartbreak.

They're stupid, all of them.
I can't go a day and not hear someone say
Your hot
I hate that.
That sentence
That word
I'm not hot
I'm beautiful.
But Boys
They don't say that.
You're fine not gonna lie
That's all they say
Like a broken record
That repeats it
Without regret in their system.
I'm not fine
Im gorgeous
To the eye.
Not
Meet me on a saturday night
I'm worth more than that kind.

There is life.
And then there is death.
Life,
It is an ongoing sky full of wonder
And beauty.
Sometimes so overwhelming
That we don't notice the opportunity
Hiding beneath the clouds.
Although we do notice when the clouds are dark,
Or the rain is thick.
When lightning struck from darkness
And lights up the night sky.
Life has its bad days,
But it is also full of
Rainbows that bless the sky,
And the sun
That gives us health and fills us with light.
Or the clouds, that we don't usually notice.
But they are the best thing of all.
So many different varieties of
Personality between them.
Sometimes they will fill life to its fullest,
Other times the sky is empty.
A blue void.
And the sunsets, sunrises.
That is when the sun decides to show
Her true beauty,
As she flirts with the moon who is still awoken,
Staring back at her
Waiting for her to seize the day.
Life is a sky full of faith and fields of emotion scattered
Beyond the stars.
So when we have the voice to choose.
Life and death, life or death.
They are so different, that  once you back out of one,
And into another.
There is no pause button,
No rewind.
So when you want to choose death,
A pit of forever guilt.
The guilt of knowing that the sun will mourn and the moon will cry.
The clouds will cover the light spread through the blue,
And the stars will have constellations
Of you.
Choose wisely.
Knowing the opportunity,
You could have,
To surf the clouds.

Sometimes I want to write.
Sometimes I want to cry.
Sometimes, I want to take it cut by cut.
Slit by slit, of my wrist.
Except that's not all that I want.
But I think of it.
And I want to cry, because
I act tough
And smile.
I act happy
And outgoing.
But really, I want to cry.
Sometimes even die.
Because every little thing in my life
It feels as if a building lost its roof,
And feels weak.
Even if it still has its foundation.
But I will hold that in,
Because my beams are still standing.
Sometimes I don't know what to write,
But that is my blood shed onto paper.
And I know that if I think about these actions that
I dont want to put
into reality,
I will write.
Sometimes the finished product
Isn't always good,
But
‘Bad poems show true emotions’
Between the lines.
These are my true emotions.

i am at peace now.
when i once thought you'd never leave.
i step into this place
which was once my safe place,
interrupted by you.
but this time,
it is not an interruption.
for i am no longer searching your face
in a crowd
nor your name in a room.
I
am finally my safe place.
because i am no longer your free campsite.
you are now a leace
that is for sale,
no longer taken
no longer wasted.
this is now,
you are now
a goodbye.

if your writing my story,
erase his chapter.
where he said he loved me.
but love,
wasn't it.
he played me.
faked me.
lied to me.
there was no we
its was only me.
I gave it all.
my soul,
I called for you
day and night
but you never replied.
all time taken,
it was wasted.
so please,
erase his chapters
and rip out the
pages.

there is no love as the love from the sea.
one that the sea has for this shore.
one that this shore has for the sea.
the sea rushes in, running towards
the shore, hoping for open arms
as the shore stares back.
the sea meets the shore.
and just as, the sea settles.
because that is what the shore does to it.
calms the sea after all the water
built up and heavy shells in
its huge wave
that the sea has been carrying all day.
the shore takes all of that away
and makes new, but only for a moment
before deepening back out into. but instead,
instead of the sea with a heavy wave,
the shore has dimmed it out into
a calm smooth-over.
and then another comes, not a big
but the shore is still open
with a full heart and smile.
that is their love.
the sea loves the shore even after all the waves all day,
the calm sea still rushes in for the shore.
and the shore is hoping it never stops, because after even
a day of the sea's heavy waves coming barreling in.
the shore still looks toward for
the calm night. that's is the
shores love for that sea.
and that, is their love.

You can’t see my sadness,
Because it’s held behind my
Gladness.
A sheet of glass
That plays pretend.
This all was once
A toddlers game,
Now hung out
in shame.
My heart drug out
Across the concrete.
Leaving shattered pieces
Behind me.
What exactly is this?
This reckless
Child’s game.

So let’s play pretend once again.

What do I say?
Your stare,
And my voice a delay.
From eyes of the
To lips of those,
The shine in your eyes.
A doe,
Staring back at me.
Darts full of
No purity.
The soft innocence
Of this doe.
Is the devils glare,
Or evil.

She drowned
Into the person she thought he
Was

he
Was
a drug that she thought of.
he
Was
a drug that she convinced herself to take
knowing it would harm her.
he
Was
a drug she was addicted to.
so when he left, he left her thirsty.
he
Was
a drug.
Yet She
Was
his poison.

and poison is something you take knowing it kills you.
but you want it, and you're not sure why.

Instead of looking at me
And seeing
How much success I made,
See how many times I had to fall
And get back up
Dust myself off
All alone.
How many things I had to go through
Before someone even noticed me.
How many times I sat there in the mud
That was once dirt,
As dry as a desert,
But turned into a swamp by my own tears.
Think about the journey i went through,
And the future I am trying to change.
And when I mess up, or pause on my path.
Think about
How I am still standing.
Think about that swamp, that is back into a Sahara.
About how many times i was alone on that trip,
With no one helping me with the wounds
From the knives
Thrown at my back.
How many times I cleaned the dirt off my body
By myself, and still managed to look good.
Still managed to look okay
And when i was fighting a demon that
My self-esteem made it.
I still managed to put a smile through that.
So don't see these little mistakes
That I might make,
Because they will happen.
But see that I am still here,
And I have fought
My own demons,
Cleaned my own wounds,
made my own mud, and dried it up,
To get where I am.
And I am not just standing
But I am walking.
I might be walking on nails,
But I will not bleed.
So when you think of me, see
the whole story.

From sill touch
To not so silly love.

The story
Of almost, every beginning.

Pearls, ‘P’ for
A perfect shine Through every light and dark situations of generation.
‘E’ for
Each and every memory between each pearl.
‘A’ to
Being apart of a history that one holds.
‘R’ for
The riches of the shine from it. Or the reflection through such a delicate thing, or the purpose behind the shine.
‘L’ for
The love of the secrets to such a small, jewelry piece.
And ‘S’ to
The secrets behind the shiny white surface. The journey it went through, the home it once had. The love of its life torn apart to take it away. But now showered with top coats and shine protectors. And now worn on a string tied to a wrist, going through everyday adventures.

the wings
of such a
quiet and
peaceful
creature,
makes you want
to Learn
how they do it.
the design
and delicacies
of such
hand-painted
wings.
there is nothing
deeper than
these things.
and as they grow
new new beginnings,
Their life starts to change.
they grow new homes
And houses and habitats.
They go through so much so that
In the end
They can look
Beautiful
And beauty no one’s
Ever seen.
and they have so deep of meaning.
Their life an adventure.
That’s why I,
Want to be a
Butterfly