One time is all it took for me to believe that you truly hated me.
One time is all it took for my hand to hurt, you kept hitting me though.
One time you left me in a parking lot and hid your car so I couldn’t see you, I was scared every time I went into the store from then on, you said it was funny.
One time I self-harmed in my bedroom, it became an addiction after that.
One time I stole something from my cousin and I kept stealing, I needed your attention.
You wouldn’t listen to me; you wouldn’t hold me.
The words I love you wasn’t said much.
I love you, do you hear me?
I don’t hate you.
Things need to change though.
I can’t keep living in fear, I can’t see grandma cry because of what you said to me.
Grandma blames herself, she thinks it’s her fault.
I need you, I need my mom.

I will take my time as I unravel the binds
That you laced around your figure,
My fingers handling the intricate knots with care,
And I will be attentive to every truss,
Making sure I get each one undone.
Slowly, you will disentangle from the
Untidiness that restricts and I will witness
The birth of your galaxies as you finally
Take a step out of your restraints.
You are my work of art,
My beautiful silhouette of an angel that
Was trapped far too long by the weight
Of the world that you encompassed.
I knew all along what lay beneath the cocoon
That you sheltered yourself in and,
As you take your first step with no hindrances,
I watch as you blossom into radiant colors,
Abstract light that brightens your face
And reveals your true essence.
I know in that moment,
That you are the most stunning butterfly
I have ever come across and
Every knot untied
Was worth it.

She likes the smell of forgotten old books, the ones that are hidden in the library shelves.
She likes taking the books home and reading them all night long in her bed.
She will always take a book with her, no matter where she is going.
She can escape into fictional worlds, where she fights dragons and warlocks.
One day she hopes she can write a book, one day she hopes to inspire others.

If we could forget our downfalls,
We would never learn from them.
Remember,
History tends to repeat itself
Unless we work against it.
Maybe that's the issue.
Through trying to forget,
You forget to listen to your heart.
Maybe you need to do your best to remember.
Remember the good times,
The lessons learned,
And all of the little things.
The little things mean the most.

My aunt sits on my grandma’s couch crying; I have been in the same spot doing exactly the same thing myself a million times.
My cousin, sits at the table blocking out her mom’s pain.
My cousin, she hides her pain.
My cousin wants people to think she is happy, she doesn’t want to waste a moment of life.
My grandmother is worried about her daughter, my aunt.
I’m worried about my cousin, she is good at hiding what she is feeling.
I try to make her happy, see her parents almost got a divorce when she was 7.
Her father cheated on my aunt.
Money problems fill their world.
Sickness and death has filled my cousin’s life to many times.
My cousin says she won’t turn out like her mom.

He calls himself bleeding diamonds
But truth is,
He bleeds more than diamonds.
He bled through abuse.
He bled through igonorance.
Through pain.
I just met him a week ago.
He was one of my first favorites when i began here on hello poetry.
I asked a question
why does bleeding diamonds bleed
And
I found out.
See his poetry shows his life.
His loneliness some days.
His passion for abuse to end
I dont think enough people take his seriously.
___
My friend,
This is your poem.
i hear you.
I am a fan,
And i follow you.
______
Though only 15,
Zach has saved many people, i believe
He saved me.
And he told me hes proud of me?
I feel he is more than a poet.
A local legend.
And here,
This is where we tell him
What he means to us.
B.d is going through hard times.
And we need to be here for him,
Just as he would be
and has been
For us.