As the world deafened around me, and the weight within my belly settled, I looked his way and noticed his eyes slowly ******* me.  
He laid his head gently on my thighs and my hands found their way to his hair.
A river; my fingers swam to the shore.
We moved to the couch and my body adjusted next to his, pressing into each other, somehow becoming one.
His arms enveloped me, his lips pressed onto my shoulders,
He took a bite.
In that moment, a flame ignited and I wanted nothing more than for him to fule the fire he now sparked.
His hand reached for me, and I asked for more
He whispered into my ears and I shook my head,
He pulled me closer saying he loved my body,
And I wondered if it was the high or if he meant it
Our lips found each other and we kissed like our life depended on it.
I could taste bitterness and loneliness,
Darkness that could possibly have me wondering how much of my heart is worth my keep and how much is worth drowning in drugs that seem a lot like love and lust, mixed into a ****** concoction of confusion.
The weight of his body moved on top of me, and I wanted the layers of clothes to evaporate like rain, but they were there suffocating the images I once had of a previous lover.
We set into a rhythm and the world seemed to dissipate,
To fade into nothing, but twilight.
As he reached his high, his body settled back between my arms and his lips graced my forehead.
I didn’t want him to love me.
I didn’t want him to offer me the world.
I didn’t want him to save me from the loneliness that, at times, eats me whole.
I wanted to know that at some point, I was cared for, even when I was used for an advantage.

Tonight, I thought of all the words lost on me
Like my favorite necklaces misplaced; my hands reaching for my neck, unable to feel them.
Tonight, I missed my favorite person, who continues to rest among the clouds
Tonight, I realized that friendships end and goodbyes are inevitable
Tonight, I wrote. I wrote and wrote
I wrote so much
All I wanted to do was puke my insides out because nothing I wrote sounded like myself
Tonight, I wept because I forgot who I was

Often times it seems like I’ve connected the dots and became what everyone wanted me to be, keeping the child within me locked in a dark room, with no windows to allow the light through.
At times, it seems, I’ve diminished my wants and needs because it was all, ‘too much’
It felt safer to stitch my lips shut, because voicing anything sounded like a cry for help and I never wanted to depend on anyone who may one day leave me,
Who may one day abandon me.

Tonight, I’ve come to terms with It being so much harder trying to put together pieces I never knew were broken
At times, I feel so insignificant, a speck, compared to the universe and it hits me how regardless of all I feel, regardless of how minor my emotions may be to the wonder that is, Outer Space,
I matter.
I matter. I matter. I matter.
I ******* matter.
All the feelings that rush through me,
The rage, the absence, the happiness, the love & lust that pulses through my veins,
It all matters.
It all ******* matters and the world may have never been the same,
Without me.

I wrote a poem about the highest of highs and trippiest of lows.
I wrote a poem about inhaling the ashes of a burned lover and how all that was left, were the charred remains of a once lit flame.
I wrote a poem about your eyes and the wormhole I drowned in.
How the walls grew hands and pulled at my shirt, my arms,
How my skin is now marked by your fingertips,
Your hands, the only ones that fit accordingly to my body.
I wrote a poem about how heartbreak has stitched itself into unfamiliar places
I wrote a poem about how I am hard to Love,
About how my heart beats abnormally, taking a pause between beats- Lub...d-dub-
I wrote a poem about how my ex lovers have settled into my body,
Their words continue to resonate in my mind.
I wrote a poem about how I trip over my appearance and how the world is beautiful, but we're poisoned apples, rotting slowly with worms eating holes out of us.
I wrote a poem and no matter the words that poured out of me, I was still full of  emotions that continue to abandon me, wake me up in a sweat and in tears

Heartbreak and sadness meet me by the end of my bed.
They hold hands and smile at me, the scene before them, almost artistic.
I have become nothing, but a painting described as innocent and free of any emotion that doesn't resemble one of a woman.
I have become something filled with anger, resentment, and hostility.
I have become the end of the world, my fires burning my body, your fingerprints finally falling off with my melted skin.
I have become an art piece placed in a gallery, waiting to be critic-ed.
I have become a lost memory, forgotten like a message in a bottle, thrown away into the middle of the pacific ocean.

I met a boy in a man’s body.
I saw sadness in his eyes and experiences wrapped around him.
He marked his skin as a reminder that no matter where he wanders, he is still in search of home
At times, when his eyes met mine, I felt like he could see right through me.
Maybe, no matter how many times his eyes met mine, he couldn’t tell what my mind wanted and what my heart needed.

I met a boy in a man’s body.
I felt like maybe, just maybe, he could save me.

I met a boy in a man’s body.
He wanted affection and love wrapped with a pretty bow, but I was nothing but disheveled gift paper.

I met a boy in a man’s body.
He captured women in timeless frames and their beauty transcended, translated into eternal flawlessness.

I met a boy in a man’s body,
But he didn’t let me in.
He opened the door just wide enough for me to look in.
I am not aware of the ghosts that haunt him in his sleep, nor the ones that keep him up at night.
I’m hoping he introduces us one day.

I met a boy in a man’s body.
He had a kind face & strong arms,
Capable of holding me together when I break, when I won’t seem to mend.

I met a boy in a man’s body.
He met me, a girl, in a hollow one.
We shared a few worries & sorrows that made us into who we are today.
They parted ways, unaware if they were to ever meet again.

Dear Moon,
Writing to you has to be one of the most painful things I’ve talked myself into doing.
My days consist of thoughts revolving around everything I’ve wanted to yell out to you;
All the angst and pent up hurt that still shadows me to this day, some of which are:
I hate you
I hate that I trusted you
I hate that I opened up
I hate that I gave you more of me than I did anyone else
Love,
Was always something I saw as beauty with flowers and Spring, Summer day’s
But now all I seem to see is anger;
Cold, winter nights and old, creaked abandoned houses.
I had never wanted to rip my heart out, as much as I do right now,
Because even if all I feel is the emptiness, the remnants of your love still lingers,
And I still see traces of you in everything my mind conjures.
Your shirt still lays in my closet and it has taken all of my willpower not to rip it to shreds,
But it has also taken everything in me,
Not to put it on and cry myself to sleep.
The last time my eyes met yours,
I knew it would be the last.
A part of me believes that the universe speaks to me whenever someone is about to leave me,
And I think the accident was the reassurance I needed to let you go.
Our love started with such a passion that at some point we burned the world unaware of the scars that currently mark our skin.
No matter how many times I vowed to let you go, a part of me always ran back to you, tugged at your shirt and looked you in the eyes, hoping you’d take me back, broken and too fragile to care for myself.
No matter how many times I tried ignoring the thoughts that warned me to quit you, put my walls up, and shield myself, I still never listened
And here I am,
all i’m left with are a couple of love songs, but not enough love
All I’m left with, is a broken soul,
Only encapsulating numbness as if a guest at a hotel, occupying a vacant room.

What pains me most is,
You once looked at me as if I were an art piece adorning the walls of a gallery,
Yet now,
Your eyes barely wash over me, as if I have become nonexistent, irrelevant

It is time I take back the power I so humbly gave to you, by calling you the Moon to my night sky
You do not lighten up the darkest parts of me anymore, you create mazes where I fall farther into darker holes.
Thank you for all the broken words you showered me with
I have learned not to dedicate my words to people
No one deserves the pretty words I construct into sentences, paragraphs, or even poems.

To A love I thought was Always, but turned out to be within numbered days,

-Angel

If I grabbed you by the arms and yelled into your ear, about all the pain that swims in my veins, would you hold me close as I fall to the ground realizing I am not as strong as I think I am, or would you watch me dissolve until I become nothing, but air?
Would you count the scars that mark my body or would you help implicate them?
Would you wrap your gentle hands around my heart and stop the bleeding or would you suffocate it like you did my love?
Would you cry me a river or would you swim in my tears?
Would you sing along to every song we’ve ever loved or would you kiss every person your eyes laid on, hoping to forget what I tasted like?
Would you let me build up my walls, because I can’t bear to have you stab my chest or would you tear them down just to watch me grovel?
Would you or not, rather I bloom than diminish and decay, like a rose on a spring, sunny day?
Would you hold me, just for the night, because I can’t seem to let go of the memories that haunt me in your presence