But my darling girl,
Beauty doesn’t come from
collecting flowers and gems.
Stop searching for beauty
That you already hold within.

Life will always be a bit of a rocky boat ride. The waves crashing over you and the uneasiness of the ground.
Although the waves toss you around, you stay afloat.
It’s the buoys and the lighthouses that keep you on your path.
Watch out for the sirens and the sharks, they are the evil in the world and thrive on your failures.
You’ll meet people that will change your life forever, whether it’s just a smile they give you while passing you on the street, or those lifelong friendships you build.
It’s the relationships you have that can make the difference.
Love your parents because they built your boat in the first place.
Eventually, it will be time for you to set sail on your own, but through the people you know, and the lessons you’ve learned, you will be well equipped for the struggles ahead.
Sure there will be times when the waves are too rough, the rain is too cold, and your sails are ripped to shreds.
Just remember at the end of every storm the sun will come out, and you will come out stronger than before.
Life will always be a bit of a rocky boat ride, but if you can make it through the storm, you’ll be in for a beautiful surprise.

When a girl is born
She is given a box
Labeled
“Fit in here
Do not
overflow”

She carries
This box
Everywhere
She goes.

She grows
And
Grows.
Until her
Box can
Hold no
More.

When a girl
Becomes
A woman.
She realizes
Her box’s
True use.

A woman
Does
Just
As butterflies
Do.

All she needed
Was a
Little
Space to
Bloom.

When a girl is born

She is given a box

Labeled

“Fit in here

Do not

overflow”



She carries

This box

Everywhere

She goes.



She grows

And

Grows.

Until her

Box can

Hold no

More.



When a girl

Becomes

A woman.

She realizes

Her box’s

True use.



A woman

Does

Just

As butterflies

Do.



All she needed

Was a

Little

Space to

Bloom

I came into this world void. I was so empty, so vulnerable. Just an uninhabited vessel that was dropped into some woman’s womb, I guess the feeling of emptiness was too much for her. Even the blood of my blood was turned off. Discarded like a used bottle, tossed into the sand, waiting to be carried away by the waves. The waves carried me; they carried me far away from the birthplace of this lonely vessel. As I grew up I found things to fill me up, but eventually, they dissolve. They disintegrate. Something turns to nothing, and I’m left with the crumbs of what could have been. Crumbs that fall through my hands and onto the floor, crushing them into dust that’s swept away by the wind. Who loves the broken? The worn down? Who wants a container that leaks out emotions uncontrollably, begging for anyone to listen? The embellishments and improvements I made failed to distract. Failed to distract from the overwhelming sadness and emptiness that radiates off of me.

I’m trying so hard to fight it.
Fight off the darkness I’ve battled with all my life.
The loneliness I was born in to, and the sadness I have become accustomed to.
I’m trying so hard to fight it.
I’ve gotten to such a good place in my life and now I’m struggling to move forward.
The past is calling to me, telling me to come back.
The future whispers in my ear delightful promises that seem so unobtainable.
I’m trying so hard to fight it.
The battle within me. The battle my mind is fighting against my heart.
My emotions driving, logic and reasoning sitting in the passenger seat.
How did I start to spin out of control yet again?
It’s hard to move forward when you were born into rejection.
See once you’re rejected once, you fear it the rest of your life.
It’s crippling, it keeps you from chasing your dreams and taking risks.
I’ve done such a good job of pushing myself to do both those things. Speaking my mind freely and doing as I please.
But the darkness is back, it seems to be erasing all my years of hard work.

She had eyes the color of stone.
Her hair reflected the sun.
All the warmth in the world, it couldn’t keep her warm.
She had kissed the devil himself.
She held the liquor on the top shelf,
So she’d have something to work for before she drank herself to death.
It’s girls like her, who beg on the inside.
Their cries are loud, just not quite loud enough.
They surround themselves with darkness and despair.
They have no one to hold up their hair in the dark of the night.
So they cry alone, alone after midnight.

Seeing photos of you still makes my heart sink,
Not because of what I used to have with you,
Not because our time is over, and we both have moved on.
My heart sinks, because I’m growing up.
Seeing you reminds me of younger self,
Shes someone I don’t see very often anymore.
I’m becoming who I am meant to be
Growing up, moving on, it’s scary.
I’m scared.
I feel alone.
Sometimes I don’t mind, but other times I need someone to hold me
Tell me who I’m becoming is strong, beautiful, that what I am feeling is right.
Someone to tell me everything will be all right.
My heart sinks.
I’ve lost the innocence,
What if my curiosity and imagination go with it?
I never make decisions with my heart anymore,
My brain controls me, I’m chained by its wants and needs.
No one ever told me growing older would feel this way
Does it have to be this way? It shouldn’t be this way
I wont let it be this way.

I won’t lie.
The chaos inside me is not beautiful
I am not the woman who is spoken of in poetry.
I do not light fires within others souls
Or grow flowers in my mind.
My form of beauty is human.
I cry with my whole body. I shake. I heave.
I forgive people who do not deserve it
And often get hurt by the same person twice.
I do not grow flowers in my mind; I grow thoughts, love, and memories.
I am not to be romanticized. The demons that live inside me are not my playmates.
They are evil things I struggle with every day.
The beauty I hold is real, imperfect. I will not hide behind words and paint a false picture.
I am imperfect and I accept that.
That is what makes me beautiful.

I,
Have never written a poem knowing the person I wrote it about would be the first to read it.
I,
Promised myself that when the day came that a guy would ask me to write about him that I wouldn't.
I,
Said no when you asked. Not to uphold my promise like I told you, but because I don't know if I can put you into words.
I,
Have tired. Trust me.
I,
Compared you to the ocean, the sky, and the things in between.

It wasn't good enough.

Delete.

I,
Used the sweetest words my heart could find.

They were inadequate.

Delete.

I,
Filled pages, upon pages of words that could be used to describe you. But the list became far too long and I wasn't anywhere near done.

Delete.

Do you see my issue?

I,
Even hate this poem.
I,
Still can't find the right words.

But the second I do...

I,
Will put them on a page and send it to you.

In a field of flowers, you look for the prettiest to pick. In a forest of trees, you go to the biggest and strongest tree for shelter, because the biggest are the oldest and the wisest, the ones you can count on the most.
You, my dear, are a pretty flower and a wise old tree all wrapped up into one very cute little human package.
Out of all the flowers and tree's I’d pick you first because your beauty comes from within and you’re wisdom has come with age.

I miss you. There’s all there is to it.
I miss the way you speak, the low grumble of your voice.
I miss your face, how seethrough you were, how easy it was to read.
I miss your smell, the way your scent would linger even hours after you were gone.
I miss your teeth, your smile, those cute little dimples.
I miss your attention to detail and the sweet little surprises you would leave me.
I miss your phone calls after I would fall asleep, those voicemails where you’d end up talking to yourself or leaving little songs for me to listen to when I woke up.
I miss everything. I miss you, your personality, but mostly I miss us. We fit so well together.
I miss being by your side and the smile it brought to my face.
I haven’t smiled like that since you left.
I miss you. I miss us. I miss being happy.

They say if you pray enough for a blessing, and if you aren’t messing around, it’ll come your way. I’ve been praying all night long, I’ve been trying to get the words to say. But I’m tired of trying to contact the one above. No disrespect but I’m losing all faith in love. How can someone love a heart as broken as mine? How can someone want to hold a cold hand like mine? Maybe it’s not faith in love I’m losing after all. Maybe its faith in myself, and the fear of letting down everyone. I’m afraid of taking chances because many time they’ve been dead ends. I’ve lost my friends along the way.
But the girl who sitting in my soul seems she’s decided to stay. It’s all tear stains from now, no more smiles, yet no more tears. I’ve cried all the ones I’ve kept bottled up for all these years. Life can be so unfair, yet so can the rules of love.

It’s not easy,
Having a heart made of porcelain.
Always guarded. Always on the lookout.
For people with lead mallets,
Formed by words and actions.

It's not easy,
Being held together by glue and shriveling tape.

So many attacks on my humanity,
I’ve fallen apart so many times.

It’s not easy,
Piecing yourself together on the bathroom floor at 2 am.
So, when the sun rises you can hold others together while they fall apart.
Because while you are made of glass you pretend to be glue.
The glue that holds everyone together.

It’s not easy,
acting so strong when in reality you are so vulnerable.
E.r.t.

Little demon who sits in my soul,

You are not welcome anymore

For my heart is not

A room to play in.



I’m reclaiming the space above,

The attic in my mind.

A space you know well

Because

you’ve inhabited it

For some time.



You are no longer allowed

A front row seat

To my fears

and

my vulnerabilities.

You have taken advantage

Of that luxury.



Little demon,

Sitting pretty in pink.

You no longer have control

Over me.

I've been holding on to what I thought was a piece of you, now I realize it’s just a piece of me that died when I was with you.

And suddenly all at once;
All of the words I couldn’t say,
The emotions I couldn’t explain,
Came flooding out onto the page.

She died for you. It’s no secret. She would have done anything for you, and her all just wasn’t enough for you. She died silently in her room, gasping for air in between hot tears falling backward up her face. clutching sheets of paper that only mean something to her, wondering what she did wrong, what more could she have done.
She is the kind of girl who puts her all into something and neglects herself. She’s the kind of girl who needs a guy who does the same. The kind of relationship where if they both aren’t looking out for one another they will just wither away.
She died for you, you killed her.
Her eyes hold the worlds triumphs and failures within them. She was born into a selfish world, and yet she made you her world. You took her for granted and because of that, she wilted, like a lonely flower in the desert sun.
Now she walks around, a lifeless vessel. Her beauty attracting the breathing, her smiles so deceiving. Her stench so intoxicating, who knew the scent of a broken heart could be so appealing? Drawing the boys in with her all-knowing eyes, not knowing she walks around with just an empty space her heart should fill.
She died for you. She gave you her all for nothing in return. Someone who gives all of themselves away at once soon has nothing left to give.

I do no believe in love at first sight, for love is many things.
I do however believe when you meet someone for the first time you can feel a certain pull towards them.
That unmistakable feeling where your soul is trying to leap out of your body to join with another.
It’s this pull that can potentially create this love between these two people. The best way I can explain the feeling within you is your soul jumping. It’s this quick jolt that tells you all the information you need in one movement. It is almost as to say, this person is important, they will change your life, you need to be with them.
I do not believe in love at first sight.
Love has to be created, earned, and valued. And none of that can be done with a simple glance at someone.
I do, however, believe in soul jumping.
I know this because the second you spoke I felt my soul jump. I had not even seen your face yet and I knew you were the one.
I desperately looked around trying to find the face that fit the voice I just heard.
You spoke again, this time looking over at me.
Is it possible your soul jumped at the sight of me?
It is hard to explain how soul jumping feels, but bare with me.
All at once I felt my feet moving. I was out of control. My lips began to spit out words that I had not myself formed. Someone else was at the wheel of my vessel, controlling my actions.
It’s like the biggest wave of confidence crashed over me. I knew this was a moment I could not miss. The risk was worth it.
Unfortunately, life doesn’t always cater to soul jumping. Sometimes your souls bump into each other before it is time for them to join.
This is still the case for us.
It has been years since we first met and we often go long stretches without talking or seeing one another. But every time we do my soul jumps.
It has taken you quite a while to accept that I am the reason for the feeling in your chest. For the longest time, you distracted your mind with other girls, all the while, stringing me along. You played with me and I allowed it.
Finally, you peeked interest. You gave in. And the moment our lips touched I felt my feet could rocket me to the moon.
Your distance crept back in and it took you three months to come back around.
I have never been as patient with someone as I have with you. I don’t beg for your attention or ask to be with you. I know our time will come. My soul has jumped for only one person and it continuously reminds me you are worth waiting for.
The feeling of your soul jumping is the most magical feeling. Love, however, is also very magical. But don’t get them confused. I did not love you at first sight, nor did I love you when I felt my soul jump and my heart skipped a beat. I have learned to be patient with your love and to be forgiving. I have learned that with you love is a process. It won’t happen at first glance.

I picked up the sand and poured it over my legs.
Sitting next to you watching the sunset was bitter sweet.
I chose the ocean, because I thought it would be easier if you were looking at something beautiful when I left you.
I never was that pretty when I cried.
You see the ocean and the sun look good together, but they can never really be together.
The sun looks like it melts into the sea. The colors mixing, touching, and then eventually disappearing together into the darkness.
It’s an optical illusion.
As close as they seem, they are actually so distant.
No matter how hard we try, we will never be close enough to be good together.
We are nice to look at, but once the sun sets, its just dark.
The waves hit against the rocks, sometimes becomes violent, it holds so much more than you can see.
In the darkness, the observers can’t see what’s happening. The charade is over.
Only the next morning it starts all over again.
I chose the ocean because it holds so many secrets from the world.
The sun is beautiful, and you my dear are gorgeous.
But we are from two different worlds, miles apart.
I think we need to stop fighting the distance, and just let it go.
Let the waves carry it away

She poked holes into paper
and held it to the sky
It had been so long
Since the stars had said their goodbyes.
She painted every blade of grass
A multitude of greens.
For her grey colored glasses
Kept colors unseen.

She had a way about her,
The girl in the grey colored glasses.
She mastered filling herself with laughter
So no one could see the disaster
That she hid deep within her.
The girl in the grey colored glasses,
Saw the world only in grey.
For her rose colored glasses
Had been taken away.

So if you have the chance to meet her,
Take her by the hand.
Tell her the quality of her life
isn’t determined by the color of a lense.
Take off her grey colored glasses,
Have her smash them into pieces
Then stick by her as her sadness decreases.

Whether you see through
Rose or grey colored glasses,
The colors have you fooled.
For life is not always rosy
Nor should it be dull in hue.
It’s when you balance the two together
That life becomes okay.

"I do it because I want to be unforgettable", she said and she turned to him.
"I don't want to be forgotten."
This was an idea that puzzled him, because how could he forget something so beautiful? How could he forget something so wonderful?
She was the kind of girl who was fearful she would live her life without being noticed.
She was an expert at double texting and over thinking things.
She often cared too much about what people thought.
She wanted someone to remember her like she remembered them.
She wanted every single little detail of her to be memorized and tucked away into memory.
"I don't think you understand", she continued.
"No, I don't think I do", he replied.
You see he had memorized how her eyes light up when she was happy. He loved how she'd bury herself in his arm when she was embarrassed.
He knew the location, shape and shade of every marking and freckle on her body.
He didn't understand.
He didn't understand why she thought he could forget her. Why she thought she wasn't memorable.
For it was the memory of her that kept him up at night. It was the thought of her that drove him to work harder when he felt like giving up.
He was who he was, because of her.

He turned to her and said, "When Eve met Adam do you think she was worried about being forgotten?"
She thought for a moment and then said, "no I don't think so. Adam was the only one Eve knew. It was just them two. Pretty hard to forget the only person in your life."
He smiled, "then why do you think I could ever forget you? You are the only person in my life that matters. The only person I see when I walk into a crowded room. You are in my thoughts when I wake up and when I go to bed. How on Earth could I ever forget you?"

Wake me up. Tell me it was just a joke. Tell me that you left only to see my face when you came back. Tell me you still love me, that you missed me. Wake me up from this dream; tell me what you want to do. Crawl under the covers with me and we can hide from the world like we use too. You always did say it was us against the world. But for so long it’s just been me against the world, me against you. I have worked so hard to become independent. Keeping to myself to prevent a man like you coming into my life and breaking my heart all over again.

You said to the moon and back, how was I supposed to know that was really the distance between us? “Forever” is just a word, and “always” is just a lie. You changed the notes to our love song, strung them into broken pieces of what we used to have. I want you to stay, but it kills me to see your face. Your stuff takes up all my space, the silence in it all echo’s through my room.
You once said we dug ourselves into a hole to hide from the world, the ones against us. Who knew you’d ditch me in the ditch we dug, with no way out. Fellas walk by, but you keep me preoccupied. Trying to find a way out without you.
I think back to the night it all ended. You ruined my heart, so in return, I ruined my rug and my liver. You dried out my eyes, I found nothing sadder than our ending, nothing made me cry. Finding my tears meant digging deep back into myself. Letting someone in gives them permission to hurt you. I vowed that night to never let that happen again. Tissues in one hand, and my bottle in the other.

I think I fell in love with your laugh.
The way your lips curved up ever so slightly, and your eyes creased as your face crinkled up.
The way you look away and glane back just to catch me staring.
Maybe it’s not just your laugh, maybe it’s your smile too and your eyes.
The two planets God planted into those deep sockets, a beautiful concoction of blues and greens.
Your smile is imperfect but I love it all the same.
Your teeth pushing for room like uncivilized kindergarteners forming a line.
Each crease in your skin has a story to tell, and don’t get me started about your scars.
Their very existence proves to me how strong you are.
No matter what the world has thrown at you, you’ve pushed yourself to give back twice as much.
You see yourself as broken, yet I just see you as a different form of art.
Yes you are different, but that doesn’t mean you’re broken.
Your form has a lot to show the world. It has a lot to prove.
No one stops to think when they look at a beautiful painting, painted to perfection.
Yes they will stop, but do they think?
I don’t think they do.
They don’t question it, that piece isn’t ingrained in their minds.
They see it and they forget.
You’re that piece of art that catches every eye
Not necessarily because it’s beautiful, but because it’s so different.  
You were made with delicate strokes, strokes full of thought, passion, and thrill.
Your artist had fun making you, and its evident.
They enjoy watching people walk by and stop.
The questions that must go through their minds…
The thoughts you must spark.
How were you made? Why were you made?
Why blues and greens for the two planets in those deep sunk sockets?
Why not grey and brown?
Why does your smile seem to hold the answers to every question asked by mankind?
Your wrinkles seem to hold such sadness and stress, yet your eyes say something different.
You often look into the mirror and think you are broken.
But when I look at you, I see beauty, intelligence, and the strength to overcome.
I think that’s why I fell in love with your laugh, because for once it wasn’t fake.
I heard joy, an abundance of it, and this time it was real.