ＪＪｓｂｄｋｓｎｄｋｋｄｍｘｍｊｓｈＪｕｓｔｌｅｔｍｅｄｉｅｍｍｍｋｂｈｂｘｊｄｎｘｎｂｄｊｘｂｄｎｘｎｎｘｎｘｎＩｍｓｏｔｉｒｅ­ｄｏｆｔｈｉｓｎｓｊｓ ｎｋｋｓｂｄｎｄｎｂｄｔｈｅｓｅ ｔｅａｒｓ ｗｏｎｔｓｔｏｐｊｄｊｄｎｎ ｚｎｊｓｎｎｄｕｄｎｄｋｄｋｎｆｋｄｍｓｓｎｆｎｊｄｎｄｎｎｄｂｄｂｄｂｄｎＷｈｙｔｈｅｐａｉｎｓｔｉｌｌｌｉｖｅｓｉｎ ｍｙｈｅａｒｔｊｊｘｎｘｊｘｊｄｎ ｍｙｋｄｊｄｖｊｓｎｄｊｃｊｎｄｎｄｎｃｎｘｋｘｎｋｘｎｄｋｄｋｊｄｎｓｋｘｈｊｓｈｄｊｄｄｎｄｅＩｍｓｏｆｕｃｋｉｎｇｔｉｒｅｄ­ｍｓｎｎｄｋｓｎｘｏｎｓｈｘｉｄｎｋｘｎｄｊｓｊｄｂｊｄｋｓｌｍｓｎｄｊｊｄｂｄｉｓｂｄｊｊｄｋｓｎｄｊｄｈｂｓｎｄｎｎｄｊｄｊｄ­ｎｄｎｄ


Ｙｏｕｌｌｎｅｖｅｒｕｎｄｅｒｓｔａｎｄ ｍｅ

This is not a love poem
this is an I love you do you love me like
I love you poem
do you know me like
you think you do poem
this is a would you be disappointed
if you did poem
an I have been feeling the chilling of the air
and I cant tell if it is just the fault of the season
or if you, too, are cooling
whatever heat you had for me
browning and falling and
crumbling between my fingers
like the leaves of these oak trees
in november poem
a what would I need to do to keep us warm poem
and this is also
an I may be completely mistaken poem
an it was seventy degrees today poem
this is a show me I am completely mistaken poem

Dear [insert name here],
This is For:
A girl made out of glass,
       The world sees only her mask.
A shattered scarlet smile,
        It might be the blood
        of those who broke her heart
The weeping willow tree,
        It weeps for what it sees
The boy that ‘cannot love.’
        He only does what he is told
This broken-hearted ‘thing,’
        They call me ‘freak’
A ‘left-behind-but-safe,’
        There is no real safe place
A queen who can’t want ‘life’
        Or love, or anything at all
A silent mourning scream,
        No one hears her call
The banished lovers lost,
        Because there are so many

And for
The undead ones who miss Hell.
Because they know
Hell,
Is better than this place
Where everything is pretty
And everything is 'normal'
Or it is worth
less
Than nothing at all.
Sincerely,
Someone With Things to Say

Look into my broken eyes
And thus wholly truthful be:
Did you love “us” truly?
Or only the idea of “me”?

I find it funny
How we live our lives
Showing our love
And gratitude
And everything else
In the value of
little
metal
pieces
And slips of
paper
Whose value
Is more than it should be,
When all we do is
waste away
Until the world is naught
But dust and starlight.

Everyone remembers
That roses have thorns
And that ivy is poison,
But nobody told me
That the fire in her eyes
Would rage and ravage
My heart and soul.
And nobody told me
How much I would love it.