once a boy told me my eyes remind him of the ocean and i thought to myself what the **** is this boy high on. he then continued to explain that my eyes arent the kind of coffee brown that you could stare at while you slowly stir. my eyes werent the brown dirt of forests that he would set on fire just lovingly watch them burn. my eyes are like the ocean not because they are blue but because "have you ever tried to describe the ocean to a room full of blind?" he asked and i was still not sure what he was onto "well you cant because they cant grasp the idea the serenity of that picture you are describing to them because there is so much to it and thats what it is like with your eyes i can never fully grasp what it is but i can never gaze too long because it feels like they'd swallow me whole and i would always imagine what it would be like to describe your eyes to a room full of blind" then i understood what love was.

Oh, it is too much
pain to bare,
to love a man
you have to share.

I am always hoping
that there will come a time
you'll leave her arms
and forever be in mine.

I am slowly losing myself
for a loving a man
who's unfortunately committed
to someone else.

they say opposites attract,
but then,
how are we in contact?
we met in the same hiding place, with walls up to our embrace.
same empty wells on our faces
same invisible threads on our lips
slouched posture
boney hips.
i was a blank canvas of a girl and you were a boy who liked to spill your ink on ****** white pages.
i was painfully boring and you were the ruins after a hurricane.
you had stars for eyes and flames that licked your lips like you were the only wildfire out there and i was nothing but a crack on a sidewalk.
you had every natural disaster dancing on your fingertips and i was dying for you  to touch me.
but your palms only sweat when you daydreamed about kissing me and i was infatuated with your dreamy eyes
you  kept galaxies in your palms just to give me a sense of home every time we held hands.
silly boy hasnt anybody told you death doesnt have a home.
hand in hand we are filthy image to them they try to **** us
but you spill anything about us to anyone that would read
according to you there wasn't any us, ink all over paper yet never any love
they asked you if you ever loved someone you said you never really cared
seems like i was the air you breathed in but coughed out as dust instead.

She found a
ending
not quite what she had
expected.

Dropping into the void of
herself
was all she knew.

And she knew that all she ever wanted
was
to be wanted,

what a shame.