To every single person
Who feels as though they are broken
Shattered, shards, scattered across
Corrupted pasts,
You will be okay.

I know there are scars deep within your soul,
Lacerated across your heart
And potentially upon your skin
I know there is regret, and blame,
Disappointment and shame
Burning fires within.
Let them go.

You are beautiful,
At 3 in the morning when you’re curled up
In your sheets, your pillow
Saturated in yesterdays regrets.

You have endured journeys
Others could never even fathom
You shall blaze trails others
Could never even imagine.

Pain does not define you,
Society shall not confine you.

Don’t you forget, lose sight of or regret
That just because you can’t see the stars
It doesn't mean they're not shining.

I feel it beginning to take over.
It's small right now, but I recognize it immediately.
It starts with the uneasy feeling in my stomach.

"What can I do?"
Nothing.
"What should I do?"
Something.
"But what? "
Figure out for yourself.

Do something before it's too late. If you don't fight now, it'll be too late.
But why do I always have to fight?
Couldn't I be the one someone fights for?
Instead of always fighting for someone else?

The despair is beginning to creep in.
It's voice gets louder saying,
"You'll never be enough. You're not worth holding on too. You might as well just stop."

Despair is followed closely by helplessness.
"There's nothing you can do for yourself, so how can you expect others to help?"
"You're in this on your own."

Helplessness brings along his friend self-pity.
He tells me, "You don't deserve this. You can never catch a break. It's time for somebody else to get the short end of the stick."

Self-pity comes hand-in-hand with anger.
"This isn't fair. They are the ones who're wrong, not me. There needs to be justice!"

But you begin to mistake malice for justice.
"Make them hurt the way you do. Show them who is in charge. Show them what it feels like to be walked all over."

And malice hardens your heart.
"It's always like this. What is the point in caring for someone if you can just be hurt? You don't need others. Leave them, before they can leave you."

That is the way that loss begins to consume me.
It's only beginning, but I feel it coming.

And to think, all of this could have been avoided with one simple conversation.
All of this could have been avoided if someone could just believe there is good in me.

*What a shame.

I wish somebody could see that I'm drowning inside my own mind.
I wish somebody would throw me a life ring and pull me back to sanity.

In and out. In and out.
Everyone just seems to be passing through.
People just stay for a visit and never long enough to understand.
That was until I met you.

You made me feel special.
I had a friend.
We could laugh and dance and talk together.
And I was happy.
This was what it felt like to have someone stay.
But why should I expect anything different from what's happened before?  

There's the rub.
I let you get close. I let myself be happy.
But I'm left feeling the same as always now that you are on your way out.
You are needed somewhere else, I understand.
But can't you see that I need you too?

Why does love always have to be so romantic?
Why can't we tell someone we love them, without the fear of it "coming out the wrong way."
So I'll just say it:

I'm in love with you.
I'm in love with the way you make me feel welcome.
I'm in love with the passion you have for beautiful things.
I'm in love with your gentle spirit.
I'm in love with the way you make me want to be a better person.

I've found someone I need in my life. Now I just wish I could do the same for them.

I yearn for the comfort of familiarity.
I miss the way it felt, to sit next to you and laugh.
I hear the things you say about her and I can't help but wish that was me.
I wish I could say I was happy for you.
I'm surrounded by people, but feel all alone.
I wish you were here to remind me of who I am.

I'm intrigued by eyes.
They are so common, yet so unique.
Colors that shimmer in a way exclusive to their owner.

Eyes tell you more about a person than words.
It's as if a story is written in your eyes.
You just need to take the time to read it.

Maybe that's why some people are afraid of eye contact.
And maybe I'm just waiting for someone to read my story.