You cannot tell her she's beautiful,
You cannot tell her you love her,
You cannot tell her she's your world
When she's at her best moments.
You may only tell her those things,
If you're ready for her to have those off days,
If you're ready for her to not always wear makeup,
If you're ready to deal with her mood swings,
If you're ready for her to be clingey some days and distant others,
You cannot tell her any of the pretty little comments,
Unless you can handle her
Alone at two A.M.
As she's struggling with life,
And wondering why
She is not enough to win her own internal battles
He is mine, and no one else's.
He is sweeter than candy and softer than silk.
He is the universe.
He is beautiful.
Wounded, but beautiful.
How was I so deserving of him?
He is my warmth, and without him
He's the sun to my Earth.
The moon to my stars.
She tried to take him from me.
Tried, but he is mine.
His heart, his love.
Him, that one over there, he is mine.
And I am his from this day
till the end of my days.
I love him, and he loves me.
He is mine, and no one else's.
She has long brown hair.
Mine could never compare to hers.
I have short, curly, ashy hair.
Her hair is softer than feathers.
Mine is crisp, thin, breaking.
She has chocolate eyes and
spider leg lashes.
Mine are blue; such a generic color,
and lashes, sparse.
She has a white smile and
rose colored lips.
She has perfect teeth; symmetrical.
My smile isn't the brightest.
Lips, pale and thin.
She smells like lemongrass and apple juice.
I have no scent.
Nothing signature, or memorable.
She is beautiful.
She is captivating.
Her soul is beautiful and I see
why people like her.
I'm the plain girl.
Nothing if not ordinary.
My soul has scars and blemishes and
I see why I'm easy to miss.
I wish I could be like her.
Dear Pit People,
A year and three months ago (exactly three in one week), I moved from a town called East Troy, Wisconsin, to another called Gilbert, Arizona. Many of you asked me why I moved here, or where I came from, and wonder why my answer was so unclear. It's a very long story, and I hope that you guys will read this through. Some of you might ask yourselves, or wonder why I hold family so highly. I know that my section leader got mad the day Marimba 4 was texting her dad. Not because she was texting her dad, but because I told him "He's her father, she can answer if she likes." I don't get to talk to my father; I envy the people who do. Apologies for that. Anyways, my family is very... unkind, to me. Not because I've wronged them, or because I screwed up my relationship with them, but because I was just very unlucky when the Gods picked my parents for me. Before I moved here, I wasn't allowed to do the things most people are allowed to do. I wasn't allowed to shower without asking my step mother first. I wasn't allowed to eat without asking. I wasn't allowed to sleep without asking. I wasn't allowed to use the restroom without asking. I wasn't allowed to drink anything but water and coffee. I wasn't allowed to have visitors over. I wasn't allowed to leave the house unless it was to go to work. My dad and step mom pulled me out of school so I could watch my little brother and sister every day while my father worked, and my step mom did nothing. I had one friend, who turned out to not be my friend. It was a lonely life. I was sad. And then I moved here. I had to leave the children that I loved the most. I had to leave my father, who I wanted to love me like when I was little but he was too scared of my step mom. So that made things a little worse on the mood spectrum. I was homeschooled, and very antisocial. I was scared of a lot of things. People, mostly. But one night, Mike took me to Williams Field, and he showed me you. The first person I saw was my Section Leader. He nodded at me. I nodded back. Then I saw the rest of you. What a lovely group. I loved Marimbas 3 and 4 almost immediately. Nice group of folks, I thought. So I kept coming, and I kept learning. But I was still very confused mentally and emotionally. I snapped at one of you. For something so stupid. "You're ego is so big that it probably couldn't fit through the door." I said to him. I said it because my life was still a complete mess. I'm sorry, section leader. I snap at a lot of you still. I don't mean to, really. But you must understand. I live 1,834.1 miles away from my family. From my home. From everything that I have ever known and loved. I miss it dearly. Sometimes it hurts too much to think about, but when I do, I get sad, and then irritated. I don't come from a family that would search for me if I went missing. My father told me when I asked if I could move here "I don't care where you end up." He was my best friend as a child. He is no one anymore. My mother is on the brink of being no one. I am a parentless bastard. But I have other family that I like to see out there anyway. Still, that's no excuse to snap at you guys. I'm happy now, out here and the position that I'm in. And I love you guys very much. You've helped me get through losses like Hunter, and Christina. Losing my family a hundred times over and once more again. You've helped me gain confidence, and for that I'm forever grateful. You are my pit. And I love you. I probably wouldn't be here without you guys, as I was a very VERY sad person. Thank you, for letting me into your pit and into your worlds.
Nothing but a blanket to cover my naked body.
I look at him from underneath the blanket.
Broad shoulders, wide chest, and perfect honey skin.
There’s a lust for me in his umber colored eyes.
I am nervous.
I remove the blanket and my heart pounds.
I have never felt so vulnerable in my life.
I can feel myself blush as he comes closer to me.
He kisses me; slowly moves his body over mine.
Skin on skin, hearts beating in sync;
There’s a heat radiating off of our bodies.
There’s a need for each other.
A certain kind of burn... a hunger.
Suddenly there’s color.
I am seeing blissful colors of red and purple and yellow.
I’m sent into euphoria; vulnerable.
Our chests touch, shaking and shuddering.
Both of us now blushing a rosy pink.
Too weak to move; he lays on my chest.
He listens to my thrumming heart; traces circles along my skin.
“I love you.”
“I love you too.”
We are vulnerable.
When he holds my hand, I'm warm, I'm safe, and I'm wonderful.
When I lay my head next to his, I put my hand on his chest.
He places his hand over mine.
When he holds my hand, he traces my thumb with his,
And leaves chills wherever he touches me.
When he holds my hand, I instantly get butterflies.
Sometimes I think my heart beats so fast that it stops.
When he holds my hand, I look at him and smile;
He sees me looking at him, and smiles back with the most
beautiful smile that I've ever seen,
reaching all the way to his coffee colored eyes.
When he holds my hand, I feel like I'm truly loved for
what seems like the first time in my life.
When he holds my hand, our fingers interlace,
fitting together so perfectly that one would think we were made
fore each other.
It's like two pieces to a puzzle that finally fit together.
When he holds my hand, I'm finally whole.
They day I met you was they day that my life changed.
I thought that it changed for the better
Because I thought you were the best thing in it.
But soon I realized that you only wanted me for one thing,
And that was for sex.
If I didn't give it to you, you would get mad.
You'd tell me you thought I didn't love you enough.
And then sometimes you would force me to do it and threaten me if I didn't.
Though most of the relationship was awful,
There were some good times.
I'll always cherish those memories, but I'll simultaneously cringe
At the thought of you.
I realize now that you were in my life to teach me a lesson.
That I shouldn't be so willing to trust someone.
That I should do what I think is right for me.
I shouldn't give myself away because someone is mad that I don't want to.
You taught me what not to look for in a lover.
You taught me how to be weary; how to read people.
I thank you for that.
But I don't thank you for invading my thoughts all the time.
I don't like that you're dating my best friend,
As I don't believe you've changed.
I do not want her hurt.
But, in order for me to be happy, I must rid myself of the thought of you.
I must say goodbye to the thought of you.
I will not allow you to plague my mind and make me weary.
I will not allow you to poison my thoughts and make me mistrusting.
I will, however, allow you to let me do what is right for me.
By forgetting you, and letting myself learn to trust again.
By forgetting you, and letting myself learn to love again.
By forgetting you, and learning what it feels like to truly be loved.
So, with this, goodbye to the thought of you.