This man I once met stays by my side through the wrecks.
He lifts me like I'm weightless.
Kisses me with conviction.
It's been a few years and I want to clear be, perfection isn't near.
I'm a ***** and he's child.
Together we make minor issues colossal.
I've wanted to explore since the beginning.
He won't grow up by the time I'm leaving.
He will always be in my heart.
Will he stay by my side despite the ride?

I call myself a feminist.
I call myself proud.
I see "big and beautiful" or "***" marked along the walls.
I see "plus size" as a label for a woman with hips.
I watch loving compliments,
but..
I also watch heartless hateful commentaries.
We label everything between fruit, office supplies, or people.
That's how humans understand, to categorize.
How can we call ourselves people if we label to give pain and not for simple understanding.
People are not plus sized.
We are all sizes.
We are all skinny for we are all covered in skin.
Thin and thick are not meant to be judgements.
We are all beautiful.
We should all spread love.
Label to learn.
Leave hate for hell.

What is reality when my life is a sham?
I do nothing all day but sleep and daze off trying to find hope.
A hope that will drive me to get done what needs my attention.
These assignments stack up like a landfill of dreams and I make them wait until the last minute with procrastinating tendencies.
I constantly ask myself what is real because consciousness is allegorically a state of mind.
I'm in a state where I try to feel, but instead, I am held in this lame *** stand still.
I stand before myself with an unloaded pistol waiting for something... anything.
My life is nonexistent and I am barely present.
When will I awake from this pathetic dream I call reality?

Success is the game and stress is the name.
I strive and struggle yet what do I get.
Trivial facts and high numbers on scale that I have yet to truly understand. I sit lone souled on the edge of my bed writing letter and number series on a page that doesn't really exist. On a box that only works when connected to forces I cannot see. I send these documents to a woman I've never met and hope she likes what I've sent. Sometimes I can't eat because I'm too deep in thought, but I always sleep like a baby sometimes hoping I won't have to get up. I light these sticks of poisonous herb hoping to unwind just an inch closer to curb this sense of anxiety that sits deep in the pit of me. Success is the game stress is the name but with this heart wrenching dedication I'll find the motivation to win this screwy game I chose to play and my last move will never arrive cause this my game and I'm here to stay.

Throughout my life, I noticed a trend.
I would develop friendships and one day they would end.
A year or two back I made a new friend.
He was tall with a beard and we laughed to no end.
I told him he would stop talking to me one day.
He said he never would.
A few months ago my statement finally stood.
I helped him out his rut.
He got a job, quit drugs, got clean and then he found love.
He met a nice girl.
An artist
a sweetheart.
I was right.
I led him to where he was meant to be.
I full heartedly hope he's happy without me.

Happiness is to Spontaneity
as
depression is to dormancy.
I roam these white halls
white walls
5 days a week
only to do the same cycle
meek
same food
same classes
same people
same doors
only to feel lost and alone
I dream of running and escaping this hell
Watching the cultures of different lands
Seeking out the stars from every given altitude
Sleeping under a blanket of night
Finding a home that finally feels right
but
first I must navigate these halls once more
school does end for a year.

I lay motionless on the solid ground and gaze up at the leaves above.
Each has their own individual hue. Their own space in this existence, in this universe. They are there for a reason that no one can see.
The light that I cannot touch, but can feel create patterns everywhere as far as I can see.
The light warms my soul, but the breeze is a sharp reminder.
Comfort is temporary.
Its existence is immortal.
My existence is immortal.