𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚊𝚙𝚊𝚋𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚢 𝚘𝚏 𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚊𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗.
“𝙲𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚕 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚍, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚋𝚘𝚍𝚢 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚏𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠.”

𝙴𝚖𝚘𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜, 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚜, 𝚖𝚎𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚜, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚒𝚛𝚎𝚜 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚠𝚊𝚢.
𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚜, 𝚗𝚘𝚛 𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚟𝚞𝚕𝚗𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚋𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚢 𝚘𝚛 𝚠𝚎𝚊𝚔𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜.

𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚍𝚎𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚢 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚙𝚜 𝚘𝚛 𝚜𝚞𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐.
𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚟𝚒𝚎𝚠𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏.

𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚋𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚞𝚗𝚐 𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚒𝚕𝚢 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚠𝚎𝚋𝚋𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚞𝚎𝚜.
𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚞𝚕𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚒𝚌𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚛𝚞𝚕𝚢 𝚛𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚊𝚕 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚛𝚎.

𝚈𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚜 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚌𝚕𝚘𝚞𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚛𝚊 𝚘𝚏 ‘𝚏𝚕𝚞𝚏𝚏’ 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚑𝚞𝚖𝚊𝚗,
𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚊𝚋𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚢 𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚎 𝚝𝚛𝚞𝚕𝚢 𝚛𝚎𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚔𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎.



𝚈𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚒𝚌𝚎𝚜 𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚗’𝚝 𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚍𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚟𝚒𝚟𝚊𝚕 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚝𝚜, 𝚏𝚞𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚢 𝚊𝚍𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚎.

𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚏𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚊𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚝 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚘𝚛 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕.
𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚖 𝚘𝚏 𝚏𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚋𝚎 𝚜𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚖 𝚘𝚏 𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗.



𝙳𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚛𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚎𝚖𝚘𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚟𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚜 𝚠𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚑𝚘𝚠.

𝚂𝚘𝚌𝚒𝚎𝚝𝚢’𝚜 𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚙𝚊𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚌 𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚖𝚎𝚗:
“𝙼𝚎𝚗 𝚍𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚌𝚛𝚢.”
“𝙱𝚘𝚢𝚜 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚋𝚎 𝚋𝚘𝚢𝚜.”
“𝙼𝚎𝚗 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚗𝚐.”
𝙰𝚛𝚎 𝚙𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚋𝚞𝚕𝚕𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚝.

𝙰𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏 𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚛𝚢, 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚖, 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚞𝚌𝚌𝚞𝚖𝚋 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚊𝚍𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚝.
𝙷𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚐𝚒𝚟𝚎𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚘𝚙𝚙𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚞𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚢 𝚝𝚘 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚠𝚊𝚢.

𝙵𝚎𝚎𝚕 𝚒𝚝, 𝚕𝚎𝚝 𝚒𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞,
𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚕𝚎𝚝 𝚒𝚝 𝚐𝚘.

𝙻𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚗 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚒𝚝, 𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠 𝚒𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛,
𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚞𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚢.



𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚞𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍,
𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚞𝚢 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚊 𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚎𝚔-𝚝𝚘-𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚎𝚔 𝚜𝚖𝚒𝚕𝚎.
𝙰 𝚋𝚎𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚒𝚏𝚞𝚕, 𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚏𝚞𝚕 𝚋𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐
𝙱𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚕𝚢 𝚏𝚛𝚎𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚗𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚢 𝚊 𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚕𝚎 𝚍𝚎𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗.

𝙰𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏 𝚝𝚘 𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞’𝚟𝚎 𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚞𝚛𝚎𝚍
𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚊 𝚋𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑.



𝙿𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚍𝚘𝚎𝚜𝚗’𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚞𝚛𝚝.

𝙸𝚝 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚋𝚎 𝚑𝚒𝚍𝚍𝚎𝚗 𝚒𝚗 𝚟𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚜 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚍𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚒𝚗𝚏𝚕𝚒𝚌𝚝 𝚙𝚑𝚢𝚜𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚕 𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚗.
𝙻𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚊𝚌𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝚒𝚝.

𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚊𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚘𝚏 𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕 𝚒𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚝
𝙾𝚛 𝚊 𝚖𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚞𝚐 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚗𝚞𝚖𝚋𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚎𝚖𝚙𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚎𝚙𝚜 𝚞𝚙 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚎.



𝙴𝚖𝚘𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚕,
𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚊𝚋𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚢 𝚝𝚘 𝚊𝚍𝚊𝚙𝚝 𝚍𝚘𝚎𝚜𝚗’𝚝 𝚎𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚋𝚒𝚘𝚕𝚘𝚐𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚕 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚌𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚜; 𝚒𝚝 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚗𝚎𝚕𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚘𝚛𝚐𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚜𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚙𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚛.

𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎
“𝚆𝚑𝚢?” 𝚖𝚊𝚢 𝚋𝚎 𝚊 𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚗𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚜𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚏𝚘𝚛.



𝚈𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚓𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚗𝚎𝚢 𝚒𝚜 𝚊 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚢 𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚢 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛 𝚘𝚛 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚘𝚏,
𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚒𝚝’𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜.

𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚍𝚎𝚌𝚒𝚍𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚋𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚕𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚎𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚘𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚙𝚊𝚝𝚑.
𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚗𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚍𝚊𝚢𝚜.

𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚍𝚊𝚢 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚏𝚊𝚜𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚎 𝚙𝚊𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚍,
𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞’𝚕𝚕 𝚓𝚘𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚛 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙴𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚑.

𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚛𝚎𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚜𝚌𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚎𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘𝚐𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛,
𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚊 𝚜𝚖𝚒𝚕𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚎𝚢𝚎𝚜,
𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚎𝚎𝚝 𝚊𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗.

I N T R O D U C T I O N
HOW TO EXPRESS LOVE

“Some call it bewitched, but I call it love.
There is an emptiness in the freedom of being alone,
And liberty in being caught in that divine spell.”

I have been here before, and with this pen, I express myself through words.
To better understand myself, and to avoid being misunderstood.
The day that I stop writing love poetry is the day that my pen's ink will run out,
Along with my sense of connection to humanity.
Love is hard, and even more difficult to describe,
Too complex to express simply by stringing words together.
Yet here I am, trying over and over,  
Always feeling limited, unfulfilled, and unsatisfied.

I have been here before, trying to express my feelings when in love.
It is frustrating, and most attempts are ripped apart and disposed of.
I have been trying to describe love for years, and still feel unsatisfied,
The countless filled notebooks are evidence of all the times that I have tried.
I cannot find how to put it simply but in a beautiful way,
I could write about it for hours and hours, from night until day.
But to fully understand love, I must reflect back and see,
How I love, how I was loved, and how I love me.
____________

P A R T  O N E
HOW I LOVE

I have been here before, I am comforted by love's familiarity,
Its pleasantness, shining like rays of sun, enveloping me in warmth and sincerity.
Its floral fragrance in the form of beautiful golden sunflowers,
Bundled with red ribbon at the stems, followed by conversations that go on for hours.
Its sweet taste in the form of kisses all over my cheeks and face,
Until there is not a spot that his lips have not touched, and I point lower to a different space.
I want more but I am too timid to say,
But my rosy cheeks and bashfulness give it away anyway.

But, I've also been here before, reminiscing on this familiarity,
I am then reminded of the heartache that follows, and I get a sense of polarity.
The shattered promises of forever, and the final goodbyes,
The returning of sweaters that smell like him while holding back desperate cries.
The empty and cold interactions as he shuts the door behind him,
The sinking loneliness of standing alone in a room that is now too dim.
The racking sobs as my heart begs me to stop doing this to myself,
So, I take the thought of love, lock it in a box, and tuck it away on a high shelf.

But, I have been here before, knowing that I cannot stop,
Love is embedded deep inside of me, it is not something I can just drop.
My heart knows how capable I am to feel such raw emotions,
It flows gracefully through me, and soars with plummeting waves like the ocean.
My heart demands to spark a flame in the one who ignited these feelings inside of me,
It yearns to douse them with loving adoration and unwavering loyalty.
It demands to be expressed, through every form of self-expression that I use,
Whether that is poetry, painting, music, or whatever outlet I choose to let loose.
____________

P A R T  T W O
HOW TO LOVE ME

I long to be cherished for not only who I am, but who I was, and how I came to be,
So instead of writing about love, I will write about how to better love me.
I have not been here before, so I will take it slow,
If it helps you better understand me, please let me know.
This is for you, if you want to love me,
It is complex and it may not come immediately.

Please understand that it will take time,
For you to love me the way that I need, this is not just a rhyme.
This is new to me, I have not been here before,
If it makes you see the real me, for you I will write more.
I have not been here before, but I am still using the same pen,
If you follow my trail of disorganized thinking, please nod every now and then.

I am honest, and I will never lie.
I want you to be my best friend before being my guy.
I want to build a sense of familiarity, to know about you and your life.
I want consistent communication so we can avoid all strife.
I want passion and longing, the magnetic pull between our lips as they unify.
I want "I love you"s to be meaningful, not fillers when our conversation dies.

He must know that the "he" in this story, could also be a she,
My ability to love isn't limited by appearances that fade with time, life’s bittersweet guarantee.
He must know my personality, strengths, goals, and my dreams,
And when we fight, he must remember that we are not on opposing teams.
He must know how to support me and my life goals, how to motivate me,
When the coldness of the world makes me search for ways to escape reality.


He must want the best for me, for me to be happy, even if that is not by his side,
If we realize that we are not compatible, or our relationship makes us feel unsatisfied.
He must know my weaknesses, my flaws,
My tendency to push away when overwhelmed, and how to find the probable cause.
He must know that though I love to care for others, I am not great at caring for my own body.
My self-destructive nature has a story of its own, and it is not shared with everybody.
____________

P A R T  T H R E E
HOW I WAS LOVED

I have been here before, and with the same pen, I tell him about my life,
Like the times I fought bare-****** against life’s merciless and cold knife.  
I am not a hero, not even in my own story,
But I am not one to boast or seek any type of glory.
I have grown and matured from my battles, so do not be afraid,
There is no reason for you to rush to my aid.
I find myself apologizing for the scars that I embedded on my own skin,
Sometimes it was easier to find comfort at the bottom of my bottle of gin.
I am withered, no longer beautifully brand-new,
So I apologize for sometimes randomly feeling sad out of the blue.

I have been here before, and with the same pen, I try to help him understand me,
I am bound by my demons, and can't remove the shackles that would set me free.
He feels a need to fix me, as if I were a broken wine glass,
I bring attention to the glass pieces on the floor that he should avoid and overpass.
He thinks that sweet words could be the glue to adhere my shards together,
And praises the curvature of my body, accentuated by a jacket made of leather.
He believes that he could love me more than anyone else has, and by doing so, he would mend me,
I quietly sigh, close my eyes, and slowly count to three.



I have been here before, and with the same pen, I try to make him see,
My broken pieces are not meant to be picked up by fragile hands, nor by anybody.
He learns this when the sharp sting of glass runs along the tips of his digits,
Understanding that my scarred fingers were from all the attempts I made when I felt brave and ambitious.
Trust me — I know how much it hurts, I do not want you to share my pain,
I know that I am a sad girl, but still, some happiness remains.
I want to embrace this darkness, my ability to feel emotions so immense,
My dear, there is no need to put your fists up in defense.

I have been here before, and I watch him try to fit the pieces together,
But they are merciless and weigh much more than a feather.
They are not a puzzle, they do not even fit me anymore,
But he becomes frustrated, exclaiming that this is more than he asked for.
I try to make him understand that they do not define me,
I only want them to be a visual for my story, I do not need them to feel free.
I want him to see my past and my struggles laid on the table,
Only then he will know how strong the roots are that ground me and keep me stable.


I have been here before, and I don't feel like rhyming anymore,
It took me a long time to understand myself and what I stand for.

He thinks I am a broken wine glass, but he does not understand.
The glass shards that lay before him are all of the times I've lost a piece of myself;
The innocence that I clung to for so long, and had to let go of in order to survive and adapt.
The ideologies of supportive families, shattered by abusive alcoholics that no one questioned.
The expectations of loving and supportive friends, broken by betrayal and abandonment.
The life that I once knew, had to leave behind, and the shock that crackled my perspective and forever changed me.





I have been here before, and with the same pen, I try to reassure him,
But he is drowning in my sorrows and has forgotten how to swim.
He feels a need to scare away my demons, and cure what plagues my mind,
He becomes frightened by my pain and wants to protect me, so he covers my eyes.
But my self-destructive nature was never his job to correct,
I try to show him that I am grateful, I never meant any disrespect.

I have been here before, and with the same pen, I express that I am his equal and that we are the same,
I am not expecting him to be anything more than he is, I am not a helpless dame.
But he feels that it is his duty as a man to complete me, to support me, to give me a reason to smile.
I put down my pen, and stare into his eyes for a while.


Though I may be broken, I am complete on my own.
The only support I want is holding hands as we walk side by side, not in the form of you carrying me.
Our world is beautiful enough to make me smile, I only want to enjoy it alongside you.
____________

P A R T  F O U R
HOW I LOVE ME

I have been here before, and I have been through all that.
For 23 years, so that makes me stronger than you.
I am better equipped to deal with certain things on my own,
Those broken pieces are not even a part of me anymore.
My demons do not need to be slain by a knight in shining armor, because they are more scared of me.
They know what I've overcome, and know that I will not take **** from anybody.

I've been here before, and with the same pen, I acknowledge my strength,
I've rebuilt the walls of my broken wine glass exterior with precise width and length.
I designed them using the knowledge that I gained from where I went wrong,
I shaped and molded them with the experiences that taught me how to be strong.
And I planted flowers that blossomed when nourished by my own self-determination,
I spent many years adding to the durable and unbreakable flooring and foundation.
I painted the inner walls crimson red, and hung golden accents from the ceiling,
And laid down mats for meditating when I am hurting and need healing.

I have been here before, and I've created this for myself,
I will invite you in, if you'd like to see it for yourself.
I am strong, I am intelligent, and I hope to be more brave,
But I am a lover and a fighter, so please don't think that I need to be saved.
I want to share this beautiful experience of life with you,
But it is not a journey that you have to carry me through.
We will put on comfortable shoes and make our way together,
And we'll prepare for obstacles, challenges, and unpleasant weather.

I have been here before, and I see that look in his eyes,
The corners of his lips curl down and he feels the need to apologize.
I don't need an apology, or for you to change who you are,
Let's enjoy our time together and have a cigar.
The universe granted us to cross paths for a reason,
So please enjoy the warm weather with me this season.

There are so many beautiful sights out there,
I don't care what we do, or where we go, we can go to Times Square!
As long as I am by your side, and you love me,
In the purest and passionate form, it would make me so happy.
Put the other headphone in and listen to this song,
I think now that you better understand me, you can do no wrong.
I put my pen down as we listen along,
I dedicate a playlist to him, filled with love songs.

I have been here before, and even though my pen is down,
It seems that I cannot and will not stop expressing love.

I've been here before, but not like this.
You've brought upon feelings that I've begun to miss.
Despite the struggle with my darkness and its abyss,
You empower me to fight with my claws and intimidate with my hiss.
You fill me with tender fondness, delicate bliss,
And when I close my eyes, I dream of your sweet kiss.

I've been here before, but in a different light.
You've brought back colours in a world black and white.
Hushed exchanges in the stillness of night,
Whispering sweet nothings that fill me with delight.
My soul burns with a fire that only you can ignite,
Enveloping me in a glow that radiates immensely bright.

I've been here before, but not quite this way.
You've brought back the excitement that comes along with play.
Wolf and kitten, in a game of predator and prey,
Stern commands that we both know I won't obey.
Unless you call me those names that make my knees sway,
Oh, yes... I’m drifting... drifting away.



I’ve been here before, but I am wary.
You’ve made me feel things that are real, and it’s scary.
But I will not dig a grave for my feelings to bury,
As they are sweeter than my favourite chocolate-coated berry.
You’ve been patient and have never made me feel secondary,
Yet, I remain conflicted to this day, and it’s the 5th of fu cking January.

I’ve been here before, but not this afraid.
You’ve lured me out of my hiding spot and its comforting shade.
Your dedication is unwavering and with me it remained,
Your fascination and curiosity for me never faltered or decayed.
The darkness that found home inside of me, its bed it had laid,
Clouding me with fear and doubt that hurts more than any blade.

I've been here before, but not this conflicted.
You've got me hooked and mindlessly addicted.
My mind warns me of allowing these feelings to go unrestricted,
Knowing full well that my heart will be afflicted.
It is ready to say, "I told you so, just as I predicted!"
But.. what if it doesn't happen the way I had depicted?


I've been here before, but not this deep.
You've made me smile, but also made me weep.
I don't have the bravery needed to take the leap,
I’m afraid of heights and this cliff is just too steep.
It takes immense strength and willpower to upkeep,
That I do not yet possess, so please let me go back to sleep...

I've been here before, but there is some hope.
You've made me ponder of crazy ideas, like to escape and to elope!
But marriage? Six babies? Nope. Nope. Nope.
Please take it slow, so that I can actually cope,
As the leap I fear to take is off a dangerous *****.
But I can’t just sit around and cry and mope,
Rather find easier ways across, maybe some rope?

I've been here before, but I like you.
You've been there for me as my feelings flourished and grew.
I asked you to be patient for a year or two,
And I still need time for my courageous breakthrough.
I want to be someone you'd be proud to stand next to,
That is not me currently, it may be sad but it is true.

I’ve been here before, but never like this.
My heart longs and aches, for you I will miss.
You envelop me in adoration, I smile as I reminisce,
And hush the butterflies that soar with every kiss.
I sigh and swear there is nothing better than this,
And when I close my eyes, I dream of Paradise, our world of bliss.

Am I all that you think about?
While your hands search for me in your bed, now a familiar route?
All that’s left behind is my scent that lingered in your room,
And a red lipstick kiss mark on the mirror in your bathroom.

You deeply long for me when I'm out of sight,
And then you ask me if I want to come over for the night.
You love the way I look during the late-night hours,
With fading makeup after our long and steamy showers.

Your unwavering gaze watches my shoulders glistening,
And I furrow my brows and wonder if you're actually listening.
You become mesmerized by the way my lips form words,
In our late-night talks until we hear songs from morning birds.

You find comfort in my loving embrace and affection,
But your eyes remain fixated on the curvature of my complexion.
Especially when I wear my garter belt with the strap,
Your mind wanders to what is in between my thigh gap.

Sometimes you are lucky, sometimes not,
Depending on how gently you tease and caress my soft spot.
You like it when I want it, when I want you,
When my gaze invites you closer with only one eye blue.

My sweet scent fills your nose and lungs,
And you can almost taste me at the tip of your tongue.
My breaths become deep and slow,
You watch each exhale as they leave my torso.

But our exchange is interrupted by a cigarette
Being held between lips that glossed shiny when wet.
The cherry burns as bright as your desire,
And all you want to do is quench your own fire.

The last remaining evidence of me is that lipstick-covered ****,
And the window I left open and didn't completely shut.
There aren't any clothes that you can smell or hold,
But you search for me anyway in the room now dim and cold.

You look at your phone as it's almost night again,
And find yourself thinking of me more than every now and then.
You start to miss the familiarity you've become used to,
And you wonder if I know or even have a clue.

But I am a quiet passerby, barely leaving a trace,
Yet you can't stop thinking about caressing the side of my face.
My presence is mysterious as if I were a ghost,
Yet I am the girl that you think of the most.

You can't get what you want because I won't let you have it,
You want me to yourself yet refuse to be honest and admit.
You are left wondering what it means and what we are,
But I love the chase and the progress we've made so far.

The next time you see me, your heart skips a beat,
And we later find ourselves tangled in your bedsheet.
Our bodies unify as you gaze into my eyes,
Then watch as you make my back arch for the skies.

We collapse together and drift into a dream,
Until you open your eyes to the same recurring theme.
You search for me on the other side of your bed,
And find nothing but a few strands belonging to a redhead.

Am I all that you think about?

Happiness and love; two emotions that you allow me feel,
And by tending to our flower, your true feelings will show and I will believe it to be real.
I wish not to ***** you with the thorns that envelop and protect it and me,
Because you are sweeter than the precious nectar that is created by a honey bee.

The petals of our flower will burst into bloom with sunshine and rain,
But we must remember to protect it dearly, through harsh weather and life’s pain.
We are two gardeners, working together to nourish and cherish this beautiful flora,
And have to remind ourselves to stop and enjoy the magnificence that is within its aura.

Do not rush, for it takes many moons for our flower to grow,
We must give it the nutrients it needs, even through the soil down below.
Its roots are intricate, and like a heart’s arteries, it pumps to sustain,
With life-long willingness and genuine curiosity to  be a part of this world, again and again.

I hope that you continue expressing admiration for the grace and beauty in our rose,
For it feels blessed to have your support and adores every part of you, from your head to your toe.
Push past society’s views on beauty and what it means to love someone,
You and I define those things ourselves, it is not dictated by just anyone.

Let us continue to encourage our flower to grow and blossom,
I know that, just like you, it will be amazing and awesome!

I have been here before, and with this same pen, I express myself through words.
To better understand myself, and to avoid being misunderstood.

Some call it bewitched, but I call it love.
There is an emptiness in the freedom of being alone,
And liberty in being caught in that divine spell.

The day that I stop writing love poetry is the day that my pen's ink will run out,
Along with my sense of connection to humanity.

Love is hard, and so difficult to describe,
Too complex to express simply by stringing words together.
Yet here I am, trying over and over,  
Always feeling limited, unfulfilled, unsatisfied.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

I have been here before, I am comforted by love's familiarity,
Its pleasant tenderness, shining like rays of sun, enveloping me in warmth and sincerity.
Its floral fragrance in the form of beautiful golden sunflowers,
Bundled with red ribbon at the stems, followed by conversations that go on for hours.
Its sweet taste in the form of kisses, followed by more and more and more, all over my cheeks and face,
Until there is not a spot that his lips have not touched, and then I point lower, to a different space.
I want more but I am too timid to say,
But my flushed cheeks and smile gives it away anyway.

But, I've also been here before, reminiscing on this familiarity,
I am then reminded of the heartache that follows, and I get a sense of polarity.
The shattered promises of forever, and the final goodbyes,
The returning of sweaters that smell like him while holding back desperate cries.
The empty and cold interactions as he shuts the door behind him,
The sinking loneliness as I stand in the room that is now increasingly dim.
The racking sobs as my heart begs me to stop doing this to myself,
So, I take the thought of love, lock it in a box, and put it high on a shelf.


But, I have been here before, knowing that I cannot stop,
Love is embedded deep inside of me, it is not something I can just drop.
My heart knows how capable I am to feel such raw emotions,
It flows gracefully through me, and soars with plummeting waves like the ocean.
My heart demands to spark a flame in the one who ignited such feelings inside of me,
It longs and yearns to douse them with love and unwavering loyalty.
It demands to be expressed, through every form of self-expression that I use,
Whether that is poetry, painting, music, whatever outlet I choose to let loose.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

I have been here before, trying to express my feeling of love.
It is difficult and frustrating, and most attempts are ripped apart and disposed of.
I have been trying to describe love for years, and still feel unsatisfied,
The countless filled notebooks are evidence of all the times that I have tried.
I cannot find how to put it simply but in a beautiful way,
I write about it for hours and hours, from night until day.
I want to be cherished for not only who I am, but who I was, and how I came to be,
So instead of writing about love, I will write about how to better love me.

I have not been here before, so I will take it slow,
If it helps you better understand me, please let me know.
This is for you, if you want to love me,
It is complex and it may not come immediately.
Please understand that it will take time,
For you to love me the way that I need, this is not just a rhyme.
This is new to me, I have not been here before,
If it makes you see the real me, for you I will write more.
I have not been here before, but I am still using the same pen,
If you follow my trail of disorganized thinking, please nod every now and then.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

I am honest, and I will never lie.
I want you to be my best friend before being my guy.
I want to build a sense of familiarity -- to know about you and your life.
I want consistency, continuous communication, so we can avoid all strife.
I want passion and longing, the magnetic pull between our lips and bodies until they unify.
I want "I love you"s to be meaningful, not fillers to be thrown in when our conversation dies.

He must know that the "he" in this story, could also be a she.
My ability to love isn't limited by appearances that fade with time, life’s bittersweet guarantee.
He must know my personality, my strengths, goals, hopes, and dreams,
And when we fight, he must remember that we are not on opposing teams.
He must know how to support me and my life goals, how to motivate me,
When the coldness of the world frightens me, and I search for ways to escape reality.
He must want the best for me, for me to be happy, even if that is not by his side,
If we realize that we are not compatible, or our relationship makes us feel unsatisfied.
He must know my weaknesses, my flaws.
My tendency to push away when I am overwhelmed, and how to find the probable cause.
He must know that though I love to care for others, I am not great at caring for my own body.
My self-destructive nature has a story of its own, and it is not shared with everybody.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

I have been here before, and with the same pen, I try to help him understand me,
I have been fighting my demons for a long time, and I can't remove the shackles that would set me free.
He feels a need to fix me, as if I were a broken wine glass,
I tell him to mind his footing, bringing attention to the pieces he should avoid and overpass.
He thinks that sweet words could be the glue to adhere my shards together,
And praises the curvature of my body, accentuated by a jacket made of leather.
He believes that he could love me more than anyone else has, and by doing so, he would mend me,
I quietly sigh, close my eyes, and slowly count to three.

I have been here before, and with the same pen, I try to make him see,
My broken pieces are not mean to be picked up by fragile hands, nor by anybody.
He learns this when the sharp sting of glass runs along the tips of his digits,
He realizes that the scars on my fingers were from all the attempts I made when I felt brave and ambitious.
Trust me, I have been there before -- I know how much it hurts, I do not want you to share my pain,
I know that I am a sad girl, but still some happiness remains.
I want to embrace this darkness, my ability to feel emotions so immense,
My dear, there is no need to put your fists up in defense.

I have been here before, and I watch him try to fit the pieces together,
But they are sharp, merciless, and weigh much more than a feather.
They are not a puzzle, they do not even fit me anymore,
But he becomes increasingly frustrated, exclaiming that this is more than he asked for.
I try to make him understand that they do not define me,
I only want them to be a visual for my story, I do not need them to be complete, nor to feel free.
I want him to see my past and my struggles, laid on the table,
Only then he will know how intricately strong the roots are that ground me and keep me stable.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

I have been here before, and I don't feel like rhyming anymore,
It took me a long time to understand myself and what I stand for.

The shattered pieces that lay before him are all of the times I've lost a piece of myself;
The innocence that I clung to for so long and had to drop in order to survive and adapt.
The ideologies of supportive families, shattered by abusive alcoholics that no one questioned.
The expectations of loving and supportive friends, broken by betrayal and abandonment.
The life that I once knew, had to leave behind, and the shock that crackled my perspective and forever changed me.

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I have been here before, and with the same pen, I try to reassure him,
But he is drowning in my sorrows and has forgotten how to swim.
He feels a need to scare away my demons, and cure what plagues my mind,
He becomes frightened by my pain and wants to protect me, so he covers my eyes.
But my self-destructive nature was never his job to correct,
I try to help him understand that I am grateful, I never meant any disrespect.

I have been here before, and with the same pen, I try prove that I am his equal and that we are the same,
I am not expecting him to be anything more than he is, I am not a helpless dame.
But he feels that it is his duty as a man to complete me, to support me, to give me a reason to smile.
I put down my pen, and and stare into his eyes for a while.

Though I may be broken, I am complete on my own.
The only support I want is holding hands as we walk side by side, not in the form of you carrying me.
Our world is beautiful enough to make me smile, I only want to enjoy it alongside you.

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But, I have been here before, and I have been through all that.
For 24 years actually, so that makes me stronger than you.
I am better equipped and more than capable to deal with certain things on my own,
These pieces are not even a part of me anymore.
My demons do not need to be slain by a knight in shining armor, because they are more afraid of me.
They know what I've overcome, and know that I will not take **** from anybody.

I've been here before, and with the same pen, I acknowledge my strength,
I've rebuilt the walls of my wine glass exterior with precise width and length.
I designed them using the knowledge that I have gained from my hardships and where I went wrong,
I shaped and molded them with the experiences that have taught me how to be strong.
And I placed seeds that blossomed when nourished by my own self-determination,
I spent many years adding to my durable and unbreakable flooring and foundation.
I painted the walls crimson red, and hung golden accents on the ceiling,
And laid mats to meditate on when I am hurting and need healing.

I have been here before, and I've created this for myself,
I will invite you in, if you'd like to see it for yourself.
I am strong, I am intelligent, and I hope to be more brave,
But I am a lover and a fighter, so please don't think that I need to be saved.
I want to share this beautiful experience of life with you,
But it is not a journey that you have to carry me through.
We will put on comfortable shoes and make our way together,
And we'll prepare for obstacles, challenges, and unpleasant weather.

I have been here before, and I see that look in his eyes,
The corners of his lips curl down and he feels the need to apologize.
I don't need an apology, or for you to change who you are,
Let's enjoy our time together and have a cigar.
The universe granted us to exist alongside each other, and we have crossed paths for a reason,
So please enjoy the warm weather with me this season.
There are so many beautiful sights out there,
I don't care what we do, or where we go, we can go to Times Square!
As long as I'm by your side, and you love me,
In the most pure, raw, and passionate form, it would make me so happy.
Put on the other headphone in and listen to this song,
I think now that you understand how to better love me, you can do no wrong.
I put my pen down as we listen along,
I dedicate a playlist to him, filled with love songs.

I have been here before, and even though my pen is down,
It seems that I cannot and will not stop expressing love.

Trying to fall asleep in a room whose windows I can’t open
My legs are tickling with jolts of energy that I’m too tired to put to good use
Or use at all
I’m this room, I waste so many days
Wishing, wondering, longing, yearning for better things
But I’m getting too familiar with this feeling of unsatisfactory living  
The disappointing drop in my stomach of what could’ve been is just getting old now  
It’s making me mad, how did I let it get this bad?  
I’m tired of it, it’s exhausting my drive for life, or for anything really
It’s all I’ve ever known, it’s the only forever that I’m used to
But it’s okay,
“I’m just tired.”

It doesn’t matter what they all say
“You’re beautiful the way you are”  
If I don’t feel it myself, there is no point
My body is supposed to be a sanctuary, a place of love and care
But the only thing that I’ve done is slice the walls that holds it together
Feed it what it craves instead of what it needs
Force it to endure emptiness, refusing to give it its necessities
As if that would make anything better
But I swear when I look the way I want to look, I’ll feel so much better
If I don’t feel beautiful, your words mean nothing to me
But it’s okay,
“I’m just tired.”

It’s true, I’m tired to my bones
My mind has been exhausted of feeling this way from long ago
I am 22, but I don’t feel nor look it
I have skin that sags, lines that are wrinkled, and features that I shouldn’t have to worry about
At such a youthful, fruitful age
I’m supposed to be at my prime, I’m supposed to feel free
But I’ve never felt so caged, so afraid to be me
Afraid to step into the spotlight and show myself to everyone I meet
Because maybe there’s a love handle that’s hanging out of my jeans
I don’t need encouragement, I don’t need positivity, I don’t need you to tell me I’m pretty
I need money and independence and drive
That I can’t seem to get because
“I’m just so tired.”