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Sincerely May 2018
Do you ever wonder what your future spouse is doing at this very moment?

I mean.. Given that it’s 12:11 AM on a school night, their cute *** better be sleeping. But... What if they are in a different timezone and it’s 7:11? What if they are just reading a book? Or thinking about their current crush? What if they are working on homework or playing sports? What if they are already in college and stressing over an essay that's due in 12 hours? Do I even know their name yet? Have I ever seen them walking down the street? What do we even have in common?

Or maybe it’s someone I know. Maybe it’s my best friend. Maybe it’s someone that I despise because of their immaturity. What if they hate me? It’s a fascinating thing to ponder over... But what if I never meet them? Maybe I am meant to be with them but I missed a chance or didn’t take an opportunity that would have led me to them. Maybe I’ll die before I ever speak their name.

Maybe.. Just maybe... Things will work out. Maybe I’ll have the life I’ve always wanted. Maybe I’ll have those two kids like I want. Maybe I’ll have those two dogs and one cat. Maybe I’ll have that perfect wedding I’ve always dreamed of... The one out in spring. Where there are polaroids hanging from the fairy-light entangled trees.

Where are you now? I hope you’re doing well. I can’t wait to meet you. I love you.
Sincerely Jun 2017
I’m a bird who is outside,
born in captivity,
sheltered.

At least, that is how I feel.
But, what about my mother?
She was once wild and free,
cheerfully singing her songs.

Until one day you came.
You always speak of how you tamed her - saved her.
You clipped her wings,
claiming it will keep her from harm.

Your tongue flicks words off of its tip
like a drink spilled over the table,
the lies drenching the truth;
making them un-comprehendible.

My mother no longer sings her songs,
instead, she doesn’t even speak up to defend herself.
Your voice makes up for the lack of hers.
The room booms with lies.
Sincerely May 2018
Some days I think I should just give up and be a housewife.
Marry a rich man.
Have lavish friends.
Be that person.
Because I know I won't be the person I want to be.
I won't reach my dreams.
I dream too big.
But then strangers come along.
This one told me to let people doubt me.
Let them see my failures.
Don’t act like I know what I’m doing if I don’t.
“Because that’s the kind of person that kills people.”
Instead,
“Let them doubt you.
Learn when you don’t know.
And when you have learned;
Prove it.
Show them your paycheck.
And buy them a **** drink.
Because you're a woman, you’ll be doubted even more -
So buy them another.”
That same day, I was talking to another stranger.
He asked how I got into such a prestigious school.
I said because of my background in robotics and their lack of females.
He corrected me, even though he doesn’t know me.
“Don’t think it’s because you’re a girl. It’s because they saw how special you are.”
It’s people like this, that gives me a little more faith.
Thank you, strangers, for giving me the hope I needed.
Sincerely Nov 2017
The raft inside of me
the parting of the red sea.
This civil war is painting
once happy memories, sharp as a dagger.
The once joyful voices now echo in disgust.

The broken skin, a horror-filled reminder.
My body is a battlefield.
These poetic lines are my arrows.
My thoughts are the cavalry.
The field of white daisies, disguised as roses.
Holiness to sinfulness,
****** to blood.
Sincerely Nov 2017
You have not read my story.
You don’t know my vocabulary.
You don’t know the boundaries of my spine.
And you sure as hell don’t know the story in these pages.
Don’t act like I am simply a definition.
That my worth is in one word.
I am an entire ******* book.
Don’t pretend I am a dictionary.
That I simply contain information.
No,
I make you feel welcomed.
I can take you away
I can make you feel the pain that you’ve never felt.
I can make you feel the happiness you’ve once felt.
My story can take you away.
So, no.
I am not simply a word.
Don’t try to describe me as it.
Because if you do;
Don’t forget who writes my story.
I can make you what I want in it.
Sincerely Jul 2017
I can live life happily alone.

No, I don’t need someone to share my memories with.
I don’t need someone to be there for me when I’m breaking down.
I don’t need to be there for someone when they’re sick. I don’t need anyone.
But I want someone.
I want to share my memories with someone.
I want someone to be there for me when I break down.
I want to be able to care for someone when they’re sick.
I want you by my side,
and in return,
I will be by yours.

Forever.
Sincerely Nov 2017
It's 7 a.m. and I still haven't slept.
Maybe it was because of the game.
Or maybe it was because I can't sleep when my thoughts are screaming at me.
You told me to go to bed before 4. I wanted to. Believe me. I truly did.
But I couldn't. And I didn't.
I asked if you were mad.
You said no, instead you told me you were disappointed.
I cried.
-
Call me what you want, but that **** hits the heart.
I'm sorry I didn't sleep. That pain in your voice kills me.
And I'm afraid of death.
That's why the voices do that.
They mimic your soothing voice and turn it into my worst nightmare.
I use you as a cleanser.
Instead, they use your blood to get the counter *****.
-
No.
I'm sorry I can't sleep.
I'm sorry I'm a disappointment.
I'm sorry I'm so bad with words that I can't just tell you what's wrong.
Because I'm afraid that if I do you'll leave me.
I'm afraid to be alone.
Because when I'm alone, I think.
When I think, they appear.
Because they want to prove that I'm not alone.
So instead they show me pretty pictures of you standing there.
With the skin on your arms peeled back.
And your eyes crying blood.
Your hands outstretched with dried blood crusted down to your elbow.
-
I know.
It's just my imagination, right?
Those voices.
Those images.
They are just my imagination.
The worst part of my imagination.
-
I'm afraid.
Because I can't tell reality from my own world.
For me, both blur together.
I'm not sure what others see.
But I don't want them to see through my eyes.
Because these eyes never close.
Afterall, it's now 7:23 and I am still here, typing away. While you count sheep, I count pages of pathetic poems.
Sincerely Nov 2017
I wish I was smaller.
I wish I was petite.
I wish I was weaker.
I wish someone would be here to hold me and keep me warm.
Someone here to prevent the chills from going up my spine.
I wish I was smaller.
I wish I was shorter.
I wish I was skinnier.
I wish my body weren’t so broad.
I wish I had a feminine body.
I’m happy with my body, I swear.
I just wish it wasn’t the way it was.
I wish I was skinnier, that I was not so broad, that I was shorter. That my nose was like the models from the magazines or that my thighs wouldn’t touch. Because I’m envious of my thighs.
I wish I had green eyes. The eyes of the leaves.. Not of the bark, because who finds bark beautiful? No, everyone looks to the leaves. They simply carve their lovers initials into the tree bark, leaving scars on me.
I’m envious of my thighs.
I’m envious of those skinny, pretty girls.
I’m envious of the model's bodies even though I know they go through hell.
I wish I was smaller.
I wish I was petite.
I wish I was weaker.
I wish I was pretty.
I wish I was light.
I wish my voice was soothing when I sing. Instead it’s raspy and grated. I’m quiet when I sing.. I’m quiet when I talk too… If I talk..
I wish I was smaller.
I wish I was petite.
I wish I was skinnier.
I wish I wasn’t so broad.
I wish my voice was smooth.
I wish my arms wouldn’t look the way they do.
Why do I keep getting picked on because of them?
I wish I was pretty.
I wish I could be loved.
I wish these voices would leave me alone.
I wish I could think straight.
I wish I was pretty.
I wish I was skinny.
I wish I looked like the models in the magazines.
I wish my hair didn’t have split ends or had different lengths.
I wish I didn’t have blemishes on my face
I wish I didn’t say the things I do. Because I always regret it in the end.
I wish my voice smooth.
I wish I talked more.
I wish I wouldn’t always feel the need to say sorry after I speak because I’m afraid that my voice isn’t smooth enough.
I wish I walked, talked, and looked the way the models do.
I wish I felt pretty
I wish I was I was skinny
I wish I could feel comfortable in my own skin
But I’m not.
Sincerely Nov 2017
I’m constantly cold.
My brain is always in overdrive.
My body will continue to twitch.
My eyes will water.
Yet you will forever keep me warm.
You will always keep me calm.
You will continue to distract me.
You will forever wipe away my tears.
My perfect solution has never been more clear.
My perfect solution,
Is you.
D
Sincerely Nov 2017
I'm so ******* tired and yet I can't seem to rest.
This isn't a dream, so how can I wake up?
How can I escape?
Tell me!
Shouldn't there be an exit sign in bright green or red lights?
It's a hazard not to have them
and yet it seems I'm the hazard.
How do I escape?
How can I escape the demon inside of me if I am the demon?!
I looked under the bed for the demon,
but it's all in my head.
It's controlling me.
I can't escape this dream.
Or is it reality?!
I can't rest!
My mind is racing.
-
Racing.
It's like Mario Kart.
If someone throws something and I happen to land on it I lose control and I fall behind,
slowing down.
People don't realize how they affect me.
How do I win this race if I'm racing the thing inside me?
How do I defeat my demon?!
How do I defeat it without destroying myself?!
I need to rest!
But I keep lapping around and falling behind.
I keep my problems under my bed,
that's where I thought my demon would be.
But my demon is the problem.
I'm the problem…- I'm the.. problem.
But I can't fix my problems when I'm tired.
And no one but my demon is around to help me.
I really need to rest…
but my bed is cold and bare,
and I hug the only thing I have..
My demon...
Myself…
I only have myself…
this world is a race,
and I'm falling behind.
You won,
I ran out of time..
I can finally rest...
Sincerely Nov 2017
You are no winner,
So don’t act like I’m a prize to be won.
You can’t pay your way to win me.
I am a challenge, indeed.
I am not supposed to be easy to win over.
Because I’m not.

So bet all you like.
Say all you want.
Throw what you want;
Paper planes, words.
I don’t care anymore.
Sincerely Nov 2017
I feel alone
But not always
The voices
The sadistic, vile voices.
They keep me company.
Like any child raised in a church
You begin to get used to talking how they do.
Copying their words
Mimicking their actions
Wearing what they wear.
No, my voices don’t sing hymns.
They don’t wear Sunday’s best.
They don’t plaster on a friendly smile.
But they also don’t compare me to the other girls.
I think..
They don’t talk about me behind my back.
Or do they?
No, No. They don’t flaunt my secrets.
They wouldn’t.. Right?
Church people are different then voices.
Much different...
Sincerely Jul 2017
Vines creep where I once crawled.
The sky fills with a fires hue.
Calm water quakes at the slightest touch.
Skin breaks at the softest fall.
Everything is so delicate,
so pure.

Yet here I am;
Imagining what I imagine,
and thinking what I think.
Sincerely Jun 2017
The scales of a dragon, the petals of a rose.
The thorns and the claws,
the breathtaking ability,
the danger in the beauty.
As polar opposite as day and night, a myth and the biased example of reality;
Though both live in harmony.
The petals of a rose often thought of as soft and frail,
but the stem as sharp and pointed as a dragon's scale.
The dragon's scale, as perilous and shielding, but just gorgeous and glorious as the rose.
As polar opposite as day and night,
a myth and the biased example of reality.
Without reality, there would be no myth,
nothing to even comprehend the “what ifs” in life.
Without darkness, there would be no night.
You see my dear,
you, you are as beautiful and delicate as a rose.
But you can breathe fire,
and show this darkened place light, and life.
You are the reality, in a world of myth.
Sincerely Nov 2017
The night's venom bore through my skull.
The seduction to comply with its demand.
A tempting offer,
with a kind skeleton to show me the way.
His bones were cracked,
but still intact.
His boney smile did not seem so different from my own.
His hand gently enveloped mine as he dragged me along.
The beautiful fields he leads me through caught my eye,
the blues and purples of the field seemed to blend with the sky.
A moon falling on the horizon,
yet darkness still filled the sky.
He stumbled over his own feet.
You would think,
if he’s old enough to become a skeleton,
he should know how to walk by now.

— The End —