I don't want someone to settle for me. I want the beautiful, talented, and amazing women I know to be happy. And I'm afraid that I am not good enough to bring them that joy and that I will hold them back if we were anything than friends. Yet, I, like most people, crave love and affection -- the simple romantic in me falls in love so easily. The classmate who were supportive of my fiction and always left smiley faces on their critiques, the one who went out of her way to drive me home when I was struggling with money and who always encouraged me and told me how amazing my wiring was. Or the one who trusted me with her vulnerabilities without expecting me it asking for my help, just telling me that it existed so that I could better understand her. Or... Or... Or...

But, too afraid to cause pains that had been caused to me and too afraid to get hurt again, I shut myself off from all but the minimum or safest of social requirements. I secluded myself and retreated into isolation -- which inevitably lead to more insecurity and more despair.

As I've grown older and understood myself more, I've learned that I'm polyamorus, that I can be in love with multiple people for different, but equal, reasons. This further isolates me because our society is only just starting to accept polyamory and it's easier (but worse) for me to just stay secluded and cut off from love.

If I don't try then I can't be hurt, right?
If I don't put myself out there then I can't be rejected, right?

My dear, my dear
Tell me your dreams
Tell me your fears
That I may quiet the screams
Keeping you awake at night

My love, my love
Let me help you rise above
The monsters that so haunt you
To reach those desires and passions

My heart, my heart
Open yourself to me
So I may be a part
Of your spark
The one that has lit the fires within me

My life, my life
Open yourself up
So we can face your strife
Hand in hand, arm in arm

My darling, my darling
I wish you could see
Yourself through my eyes
Magnificently sparkling
Like the stars in the midnight sky

Glittering city
Sleepless, vain, unforgiving
Angels weep for us


Fleeting peace here
Stillness, solitude, brief rest
This treasured moment

Winds whip, curtains shake
A storm blows in once again
Memories of home

Haunted sorrow
Words unspoken on my lips
Maybe for the best

Everything I touch turns to ash in my grip
I am stagnant as others grow around me
Fear, loathing, and regret are the emotions I feel the most
To keep from dragging others down I isolate
Trying to be the tragic hero
Without putting forth the effort to seek redemption
But I'm just a petty villain
Succumbing to my angst and flaunting my misery like I'm unique
I feel like I inflict pain in others, yet close my eyes to their suffering
Saying, "they don't have it as bad as me"
I lie, omit, and disguise my motives and meanings
I hide in plain sight, shallow as a puddle
But the true depth of me is a trick of the light-- a perfect refraction
My self-deprecating humor a defense mechanism I learned
I use it to pacify others, to force their eyes to glide past me
Because if someone truly looked
There'd be only a shriveled husk, withered and dessicated
Incapable of beauty, undeserving of love
Filled with bitterness and sorrow and loneliness
Incapable of progress or understanding

Who knew falling in love could hurt this much?
Why didn't anyone warn me, that it would feel like my heart is ever so slowly being torn from my chest, millimeter by millimeter, all while being crushed in the vice like grip of Fate.
Why did no one prepare me to fall in love with every artist I meet, with the tortured and the passionate?
What could I have known of love as an innocent child, free if the petty cruelties of life and apathy?
How can I resist falling in love with those who support my own feeble attempts at art, who reassure me that I am worthy it respect and continue to uplift my soul and spirit, and more importantly — should I?
How do I communicate my love do that I might get it reciprocated, that I can feel from others what I feel for them?
Alas, there are no answers in this empty apartment.

Her dark curls keep falling in her face. The expression she makes is adorable a flash of an exasperated semi-sarcastic smile. She makes some of the most adorable faces. I can’t help but smile back. Her eyes are perpetually bright and full of life, a pale moss green. I am constantly enchanted by them. Her skin looks like it was poured from a jug of milk, creamy and white. I love her attitude and confidence. She always has something going on, always hustling. I’ve seen a peek of her struggles and wish I could help her, but I know she wants to beat it on her own. These are pale reflections of the wonder that is her.

Now I lay me down to sleep
And I pray my soul to reap
If I die before I wake
Know this world ain't safe
And so I rest my weary head
In hope that I might waken dead
For mercy and grace
Have all but fled
This world of rust