When men cheat, it's below the belt. When women cheat, it's above the neck.

Mirrors can be scary things.
Sometimes they'll tell you that you're something terrifying.
Or that you look great but you're not on the inside.

If you ever look in a mirror and see
something you don't like,
look beyond that.
Look deeper.

Because,
everything you see that's unappealing,
it's not true.
It's only the mirror playing tricks.

Everyone is perfectly made,
and you are made a certain way for wonderful reasons.
Don't let your mirror fool you.
It's just jealous of your beauty,
because all it can do is reflect yours.

With the stars in our eyes,
we jumped-
and as we leaped off that
rocky cliff of our past together,
our hearts began to beat
faster and faster.
And while falling,
our star-like eyes grew
bigger and bigger
for each other.
And as we hit the clear,
crystal water in the gorge,
we became a tangled
mess of happiness.

A person's integrity
can be lost
amidst this "prestige" fabricated world.
A person's heart
can turn to stone
amidst these nefarious life forms.
A person's brain
can be turned to mush
amidst these excruciating words.
A person's eyes
can be shown miserably different views
amidst these manipulating debaters.
A person's character
can be ripped to shreds
amidst these sharp dire actions.
A person's sensitivity
can be transformed into nothing
amidst these morbid apathetics.  
A person's worth
can be diminished
amidst these cruel rulers.
A person's dreams
can be crushed
amidst these rich, shiny shoe wearers.
A person's life
can be extinguished
amidst this persecuting society.
Only when someone's life is gone-
is when we try to exterminate the said problems.
Why only take change when someone's gone?
They won't get the help they need
because they're not there.
Why let the rest suffer
when something can be done now?

Her heart is made of something
that is not of this world,
perhaps-
it is supernatural with special powers,
because even though
she's been hurt so many times,
she continues to love
wholeheartedly.

I call myself a writer yet I'm awful with words and every time I say sorry it's more like an exit wound than an apology. It's difficult to tell you what I'm feeling when I don't know how to speak and I'll go on talking in my broken languages until you realize you will never understand me. Everyone is telling me I need to stop running away from my problems but I've already tried hiding from them and they'll just keep finding me. I keep thinking that maybe if I smile a little more you'll always be here and I want to **** the thing inside you that makes you leave. I have attachment issues because I remember when I was little and not understanding when people told me they'd "be home later" that they never considered anywhere that I was a home. And maybe I don't want to talk about what you did maybe I want to talk about songs and cities and which direction we're going to walk next and if you want to keep the shirt I'm wearing and if touching each other a certain way is okay and how many buttons you leave open on your flannels and how I'm getting home tonight.