Writing down my feelings feels so strange
like dancing, it is more complex than it appears
Rather both are not something you learn
But, choose to perfect
Utterly unique to an individual
he steps and rhythm might be the same, but the way your body moves
Is like no other
Words glide across the page, to reveal what no one else can think
A duet, mind dancing with hands
To conceive art
The words and techniques might be the same, but the way your mind thinks
Is like no other
But dance to me still feels strange, and moreover, can't quite seem to express my feelings

Me, a young girl hopelessly wanting to be loved
so I let it be defined in a boy's touch
The way he used to touch me was proof
he carried soft promises on the tip of his fingers
I opened myself up for him
giving my body away for the promise of beauty
How was I to know all that lay ahead  
that love I felt when he caressed my inner thigh
still small and frail with innocence
Was a mixture of lust and greed, love absent in the mix
He drugged me on it, forcing it down my throat till my mind was barren
and my strength nothing
My body is permanently stained
from the ignorance of a naive girl, and I
forever hold the blame for believing his touch was love

What is love?
Can we gripe the definition of love in our hands, and truly understand all we possess?
To me, it feels like love is this world's one and only gift, that without it life is pointless.
will I hold love for someone, and if and when I do, will I be able to hold on?
Or maybe this is God's way of punishing us, to give a hope that is too heavy to hold on to.
So that if we might grasp it, we will either let go or get hurt in the process.
I carry no burden, but only the reminder that my hands are empty.

Will you forget me when I leave?
When my heart stops and the blood stills and my body is nothing but an eternal winter, Will you remember my life, or will I only leave behind a gap to be filled?
I feel as though I'm no longer scared of dying, but rather being forgotten.
One day my name will no longer roll of people's tongues, and my grave will be barren.
Will the only thing left of me be a stone, will I be nothing?
Just like the others before me, whose names I will never know.

And who are we to judge the broken?
When we ourselves are twisted, is anyone truly honest?
Lies hold together our facade, like a spider web, we are helpless flies.
Who will go next, prey sitting patiently waiting to be devoured?
I find some can't bear the weight, the thought that any moment the next one could be them, kills them.
Will you wait for me? its best not to struggle, you will only get yourself more stuck.

This world's game is hard to play, the rules are biased and unfair.
The dealer is relentless, and right as you think you are winning, you start to lose again.
This world is one ****** casino, with a big unknown prize at the end.
Is the promise of that prize worth gambling are lives away? I wish I had the answer, but then again it would probably ruin the game.

Dark and cold, we are alone. but not really
laughter rings in the background
A movie is playing but I can't focus
All I hear is your heartbeat, see your movements
Feel Your presence.
I want to reach for your hand
I want to stay like this forever
Alone on our own little island
In the dark, but not really

The memory seems so bright
I replay it in my mind like a video

Maybe that's all it was
Is it a video?

Is it a video?