do you know how annoying it is
to have to ******* remind yourself
to be happy?
-a.c.b

i’m convinced that
i have met an angel in real life,
wings spread and
halo glowing,
lips soft like
the sheets we’re tangled in
sweet like honey, showered
with stars from above
i am
entrapped, ensorcelled
by all that you are.
-a.c.b

it's terrifying
to pour your heart, your soul
the parts of yourself that
could break you,
into something that is not so much of a thing
but instead a piece of your very
being,
and have it turned down,
rejected,
spit on.
how do you recover
from such a loss?
-a.c.b

i had a dream about you
and, while it worried me that even
my subconscious likes the feeling
of your name swirling in my mind,
i still feel your phantom lips on mine,
the ghost of your fingers
tracing shapes on my rib cage
and, although we’ve never touched like that
i couldn’t help but feel
how right it was,
how we fit like two
magnetic puzzle pieces,
how i would give anything
to have that feeling again.
-a.c.b

you say you’re not a poet but
with a girl like that,
how could you speak
anything less than
the stars?
-a.c.b

i’m worried that
i will think i’m over you,
i’ll be carefree moving on,
and then you’ll smile at me.
you’ll touch my lower back,
or you’ll fix my hair
or grab my hand
or pick me up
or call me beautiful
or tell me you love me and
i’ll fall
all
over again.
i’m worried that
i’ll spend my whole life
getting over you.
-a.c.b

i just want to stay up all night
writing, perhaps.
haikus & slam poetry, written in all caps.
watching the starry sky
with a handsome stranger,
running red lights and trespassing
regardless of danger.
maybe a late-night drive
with the windows rolled down,
a romantic stroll
through this sleepy town.
how about a midnight picnic
with my favorite lover?
whole summer spent promising
there will never be another.
i'll tell you again:
i don't care what we do,
because anything becomes everything
when i'm doing it with you.
-a.c.b

sorry if this is
too forward but i think that
you are wonderful.

i said i was over you but
you were laying there, and i wanted
nothing more
than to lay my head on your chest,
feel your heartbeat below my cheek.
i said i was over you but
with my head pressed against your back
as
you gave me a piggy-back ride,
just so my feet wouldn't get wet,
i couldn't help but to savor the feeling of my arms
around you.
i said i was over you but
you were laughing as you joked around with my family,
and i could tell you were comfortable,
and i could tell they love you,
and all i could do was sit and look at you,
for i don't think i've ever seen something so beautiful.
i said i was over you but
when i hugged you,
remarking how tall you are and
you momentarily rested your hands on my hips...
my breath caught and i know i was
blushing
before you wrapped your arms around me again.
i said i was over you  but
i'm pretty sure i swore
never to write poetry about you again...
so what is it i'm doing right now?

i wonder if you’ve noticed,
her fingers are always stained with
black or blue ink,
sometimes purple,
color seeping through the
swirls on her fingerpads,
color imprinted on her milky skin,
forevermore.
you asked why,
she said “writing”
...you never stopped to ask
what kind of writing stains your fingers
everyday?
well,
it’s the kind that takes you over,
the kind that controls you
completely.
the kind where
you don’t know what words will come out of you
until
you see them written on the page
in your own handwriting.
it’s the kind of writing you couldn’t stop,
even if you wanted to.

i know some of you have messaged me about creating other poetry accounts so... wanted to let y'all know i made an instagram account (@acb_poetry) and it would mean the world to me if you could check it out! i'm trying to get my poetry to gain some publicity and momentum so i can share my words with a bigger audience. thanks for always supporting me :)

-a.c.b

i.
i hate you. i hate you for breaking my heart, i hate you for making me love you, i hate you for all of it. you swore to me that this time would be different. there would be no tears, no scars, no late-night wondering about what i did wrong. ...so then why is it 3am and i can’t stop wondering what i did wrong?

ii.
you’re the most beautiful person i’ve ever met. with that heartbreaking smile you told me about your past trauma, old drama, last flame that never could’ve lasted. i will never meet someone else with the same kind of glint in your eyes. you broke my heart, and darling i thanked you.

iii.
i still ******* love you. with everything within me i have tried to move on but my healed heart still wants you, after all this time, and how can i deny that heart the very same thing that could fix it? i am hurting, my dear. i am hurting without you.

my pen threw up ink on the first word i wrote,
an ugly mark smeared
halfway down the thick, cream-colored page.
looking at that inkblot i heard
a reflection of myself,
identified as that smudge for
one reason or another,
maybe the fact that
my entire identity as a whole is
based off of others interpretations of me
or the fact that
i am always a mess;
when people look at my life from a birds-eye view
i am a figure only barely discernible
from the chaos
or maybe because
people only use me as a fun party trick,
like a horoscope, an arguing matter,
a novelty,
something that’s thrown away
and tossed aside
when its duty has already
been performed.
whatever the reason,
i think i am beautiful among the madness,
despite whatever it is you see
when you look at me.

how is it possible to miss someone
i’ve never met before?

i’m sick of how twisted these words are
as they float around in my brain,
two people telling me
two different things and
it’s not like i wanted to get involved with you it’s just
maybe i kinda wanted to get involved with you
but now it doesn’t matter,
none of it matters,
because once again i’ve broken my own heart
before it even had the chance to fall.

do you ever realize
just how beautiful someone is,
when their face is illuminated by that 5pm glow,
those golden rays coloring their face,
accentuating perfection
on an already perfect canvas?
do you ever realize
just how beautiful someone is,
when they’re excited, talking about something they love,
and you’re encompassed by the bubble they share
because the words can’t tumble out of their mouth fast enough?
do you ever realize
just how beautiful someone is,
when you see them in their element,
writing or teaching or just speaking to a group,
and you know that can’t see you watching
but how could you help yourself cause
oh god
you’ve never seen something
quite so beautiful.

just a few short words
and i’ve already made a promise to myself,
a promise that,
this time,
i will not rush into things so quickly.
i will not share my words,
make brash declarations,
open this heart that’s been guarded for
so long.
i will take things slowly,
feel out the situation,
and let what happens,
happen.

i'm trying hard to
believe in love but
i held my sister while she
fell apart in my arms because
her lover of eight months suddenly told her that
he didn't love her anymore,
and i'm not sure how many times i can stitch her back up
before the cuts are too deep
to be sewn.
i'm trying hard to
believe in love but
my best friend has had her heart broken
too many times to count,
feeble-minded fuckboys or
temperamental tantrums because
she didn't love them back and they decided to
cut all ties.
never once did she get an apology.
i'm trying hard to
believe in love but
every single one of my past
flirtationships
have ended in loss
one way or another,
him or me-- it doesn't matter how
because
i'm still alone.
i'm trying hard to
believe in love but
in a world like this,
it's hard to hold onto something
so fleeting.

it's not that i'm depressed.
it's just that i've become incapable of being optimistic,
lost the ability to believe in empty cliches like
"it will get better."
it,
this mysterious pronoun has had a year and a half
to get its **** together,
to get better.
it hasn't been able to tell me
what the hell is going on in my brain.
it's not that i'm depressed.
it's just that my thoughts are smoke rings swirling around my head
clouding my vision,
tainting my decisions,
inhibiting my inhibitions.
it's hard to see the light when the spectrum is in
black & white,
the same monotone colors like
the dimness of my phone screen as
grey tears fall on it, dissipating
the smoke rings around my head.
it's not that i'm depressed.
it's just that sometimes i stand in the shower with
the water so hot i can
just
barely
take it but
isn't that the irony of it anyways?
the only time i can feel,
the only time i can breathe
is when i'm being drowned in a torrent of hell-water.
don't worry, satan approves of my
misgivings.
it's not that i'm depressed.
it's just that my words clot in my veins like stones
jabbing at my insides to be let out,
crawling up my throat,
begging,
no--
demanding
to be let out or else.
or else what? you may ask.
well the answer is or else
i may never see the sun again,
i may never smile that smile
so many say could light up a city.
it's not that i'm depressed.
just maybe a little sad
sometimes.

“but i miss him.”

and what can you say to that?
there are no words that can come from
your lips
that will make her forget
the taste of his.

we’ve struggled a bit
these past five years,
but we haven’t quit-
through the pain and the tears.
through the darkness and sorrow,
secrets & firsts,
the hope of every tomorrow
helps melt away the hurt.
through feelings like pastel
and feelings like charcoal
you made life feel less like Hell
and me feel more whole.
cause you know some days i’m lacking,
pieces missing from my dome,
the days i feel like just packing
up and going home.
the days i’m afraid to look in the mirror
cause i might not recognize what i see,
you’re there to quell my fear or
just be there for me.
so thanks for all the lovely moods
and words that build me towers,
you’re the one person i know who’s
most deserving of flowers. :)

i know i’m still damaged.
broken, even.
i know i’m still healing, or
have yet to heal,
or i still need help but
in this salty air,
in this beautiful country,
i feel okay
for the first time in a
long time.
i feel okay.

i’m sorry.
i’m sorry in advance for the person i will be
when you meet me,
worse off than i am now,
if you can believe that.
if you want to blame someone please
do not blame me,
be patient with me, dear,
i promise i will get better.
blame the boy with strands of copper for hair,
electricity running through him.
i thought the sparks shooting off him
were a novelty
until they marred my arms with embers that
dissolved into flames and i was turned to ash
before he could ever apologize.
blame the boy with those eyes,
sapphires planted in his face where
eyes should be,
such a stunning color i looked past how
he could never love me.
my love, i wasted
two years (and counting) of my life on this
boy,
hopefully,
by the time i meet you i will be
over him.
you deserve so much more than
a girl still clinging to her past
with white knuckles.
blame the boy that i fell for
much too fast,
...correction:
thought i fell for.
by the time i meet you i hope
i know that
no matter how lonely i am,
i should not force something
that is not meant to be.
dear,
i am trying to heal from that,
trying to assure myself that i will not
lose feeling so quickly,
dilute something that was so beautiful and full of life
into something i cannot bear to look at.
my future lover,
i apologize in advance but
if i think i will give you any less than
all of me,
i will let someone else love you.

i spin for you,
like a record on replay
i spin,
music filling the air around me in such a way
i could reach out and grab
each
singular
note.
i’ve always resented songs on replay,
the monotony of the same voice
saying the same thing
for an eternal loop.
but baby i could sing along
to the sound of your laughter, all day
because for some reason it’s a song
i already know all the words to.
in any case our love
is music to my ears, every
note
melody
symphony
even the screams are
a cacophony of passion, pain,
permanent feelings
no one could ever stop playing.
don’t tell me our love anything but beautiful.
our song says otherwise.

i have to control the
redhot rage coursing through my veins,
all because
a few short words leaked out of your mouth.
why does it matter
how much you yearn to touch me
if i am not comfortable?
why do you have any right to dictate
my decisions,
about my body,
just because it’s been so long
since you’ve tasted anyone?
don’t tell me you care about my feelings,
don’t tell me you just want me to be comfortable,
if you really cared
you would give me all the time i need.

she was never the pastel rose petal
so many wanted her to be,
never compared to a summer’s day,
never flowered with affection from
princes.
she was rough,
slanted, lines kind of
blurred around the edges.
she was lonely,
and not afraid to show it, her
kaleidoscope heart reflecting patterns of her thoughts,
casting iridescent shadows
on anyone near her.
they couldn’t help but to be drawn
to this enigmatic girl,
desperate to worship her kingdom
and
take away all the hurt.
she was never just “beautiful” to anyone.
she was always
so much more.

in a red dress i kissed him
yes, on the lips i touched mine to his
and oh god did sparks fly
and oh god did those embers fall to our
feet and
start a fire that will not
can not die and
my scarlet dress still smells like smoke,
his residual fingers still touching me all over
and he is, and forever will be
my everything,
my North, South, East, and West,
my ocean and my stars and
every grain of sand on the beach
and never will i ever
ever
let him go.

he fell for my words
before he fell for me,
drinking in all my commas
and caesuras
and “random” capitalizations
before he got to know
my mahogany eyes or
love for elephants and
all things pink.
he fell for my words before he saw
just how not okay i am,
but i guess,
by reading my words,
he already knew that.

she thought she knew what she wanted.
oh foolish girl,
she just wanted the love,
the attention
that accompanied his words,
her own responses trickling down her chin
until she realized
this wasn’t her.
since when had she let
a boy’s disrespect get her down?
let his words bully her into becoming someone she’s not?
foolish girl, i don’t care
just how much you are in need of a partner.
he is not the one.

you fell for me during summer
when i was in full bloom,
when i was open, loving.
ready to face the world.
you fell for me
as i was splashing in the icy waters
of the Jersey Shore,
holding onto setting suns
and tanned legs.

you first felt me fade in Fall,
my leaves crinkling, crumpling.
dying before your very eyes.
i guess you could say that’s when
you saw my true colors,
browns and burgundies and rusty siennas.
i was still warm to the touch, though,
and i reminded you of summer.

it was winter when we
cracked like ice,
those shards slicing our hearts like
Jack Frost paid our freezing love
a visit.  
i remember the cold in my heart,
the ache from the lack of warmth,
the frigid aura
surrounding anything i touched.
that’s when the yelling started;
snow falling so fast and heavy
we were up to our eyes in it
before we could even take a breath.

it is Spring now,
and i am thawing, healing.
i have planted my apologies like wildflowers,
everywhere—
but nowhere on purpose.
i promise you— soon,
i will bloom again.

she is more than he bargained for.
she has thoughts, dreams,
a magical mind he
didn’t see coming.
he’s spent days sketching her in his mind,
her locks of mahogany,
doe eyes, freckled nose.
he asked her if she wrote about him,
if she saw his mind as beautiful
as he saw hers.
in the warmth of the moment she forgot
to ask him the same thing.

pain is beautiful, right?
that girl,
you see her over there-
what a **** shame.
she’s so sad...
maybe she’ll be my next
community service project,
maybe i’ll turn her pain
into shockingly bright beauty
see the boy over there?
his chestnut hair is disheveled ,
clothes rumpled like
he’s been wearing them for a week
straight.
roll up his sleeves-
those bright pink cuts are
still glistening ,
razor-straight like he used a ruler,
desperate
for even his pain to be perfect ‘cause
oh god who would accept it
if it wasn’t?
look at that wintery pale girl about
ten feet away...
look at that collarbone,
defined jawline!
aren’t you jealous of her self control?
her ribs are jutting out from
under her cheery yellow shirt but
as long as she has a “beach body,”
it doesn’t matter that
her organs are eating themselves.
don’t tell me pain is beautiful.
you can’t see what’s going on
beneath the surface.

it's okay to feel.
baby i know
the world is telling you you're weak if you
feel,
that the tears in your eyes symbolize your lack of strength,
but you've been strong for too long,
i know that, i do;
so honey
let  
     it
         go.
let those tears pour down your face
with the strength of a million wails,
scream! cry! let the sobs
tear through your body
until the moans can barely escape your lips.
let your face contort
into a picture of agony,
feel each
individual string in your heart
pull
pull
snap.
fall on your knees, pound the floor
jesus let yourself be "weak."
and then pick yourself back up,
fix your smudged lipstick, and
learn to forgive the world
and yourself.
learn to live again.

with a heavy heart,
i write.
i write to save my life,
to make myself feel something
when the rain pounding my window
gets too monotonous.
i write to confirm my faith
in words,
that even when everyone else fails me,
they will be waiting
(to be bled)
on my notebook's pages.
they don't judge me.
i write when
i am in love,
when i need an outlet to expel color,
when i need a list of metaphors
(to compare to his eyes).
my pen is the only one who knows
why i press so hard
(when i write your name).
i write because i'm broken,
because even the closest to me
don't know
what the hell is going on beneath the surface.
i'm sorry for isolating myself but
you couldn't help me anyways.
i write to remind myself
of the beating of my own heart,
the tears in my eyes, half-moons
in my palms.
(i write to remind myself
that i am alive.)

he said
you are so gorgeous in the way
you write yourself on paper,
i've never met anyone
to paint with words.
he said
the birds sing your praises
in the early morning sun,
the dew still heavy on blades of grass.
he said
i have never seen such beauty
grace my irises of green,
never known the word perfect
until i told him my name.
he said
you
        are
                my
                        universe.

why does everyone want to live within the
halo of their love?
why is their future lover going to be
a golden angel, light coming off of them
in tsunamis?
i do not want him to be my Savior,
i'd be just as content with an angel of darkness,
darling would you like
to be my angel of darkness?
with those jagged edges i know
i know
you are ripped and torn in all the wrong places,
have been told so many times
you are an outcast.
but in my universe,
you are my anti-Savior,
my plot twist in "forever and always."
i want to bask in your darkness,
drink the ebony night from goblets of
the coal we walk on.
i want to swallow bits of midnight
that come alive within ourselves and
escape through the raven clouds to tell
our love story.
be my angel of darkness.

yes, i'm falling for him but
you're still tugging at my mind,
reminding me to
cry a little harder for you.
i'm left wondering who
your blue eyes are piercing now,
who are you saying "i love you" to,
promising forever?
i'm sure she'll trust you,
sure she'll start writing poetry about your eyes
cause god have you ever seen something so blue?
i wonder if you'll break her

like you did me.

i hate small talk.
in such an enigmatic world,
convoluted and destitute of magic,
who cares about the weather?
at 1o'clock in the morning,
as we're sitting up drowning in caffeine like a life source
i want to know why your mother left when you were ten.
i want to know where that scar on your arm is from,
how your marvelous compositions originated.
i need to know your most reclusive dreams,
your thoughts and plans for the future planned years in advance.
i don't care about your 9-5 job--
who was your first love?
and
are you finally over how she broke your heart?
i understand if you're not.

let's skip the small talk, love.
i want to know you.

sorry to bother you but
my belly kind of hurts,
i think it's because i miss you a little
(or a lot)
and i pinky promise
i'm only using the seventh Weasley brother as a distraction.
sweetheart,
do you remember the lovely boy
i met a while ago?
he looks exactly like you but
my love, his eyes shined brighter.
...how could i have let him get away?

hand shaking
decision making-
poor as always
i am mistaken
fell for the wrong one,
words slipped from my tongue
without a second thought
i'm coming undone.
"think before you speak,
you're individually unique"
but how do you love yourself
when your heart's always asleep?
dreaming about pain,
the never-ending rain,
help me please don't
let my words be in vain.
i'm trying to love you from far away
but i'm struggling to get through my day
without your eyes in my life
god i don't know what else to say.
distracted with another,
you're still my favorite lover
but i'm tired of all this
treating you like my brother.
everything is falling gray
no one will actually stay
despite how much i beg
"please don't let it be this way."
i deceive and i lie
without a reason to oblige,
talk me down from this ledge...
stop telling me goodbye.

no one has made me scream color like you,
my petals unfolding and hues brightly painted across my face.
i used to be the raven sky but
now i am the pastel sunrise, i blossom
into something i never thought i could be.
your love has grown me,
changed me,
broken me out of my chrysalis.
baby i
bloom for you.

with every
breath you
take i
wonder
how can
someone so
beautiful
be so
sad?

he is sitting three feet away from me
and i can feel his hand rattling the table
as he spins another masterpiece.
he is concentrated,
as am i,
and i know he is stealing glances at
the way my pencil scratches furiously across this page.
i am mesmerized
by the way his hair falls across his face as
he lets his heart do the drawing.
with that slight frown on his face i can't
help but wonder how anyone could leave that boy alone?
darling,
i know, together
we would be even more beautiful than
the art we both create.

so at the end of the day
turns out the lightbulb broke.
extinguishing all light,
turned my dreams to smoke.
throughout the years i’ve learned
there’s no monster underneath my bed,
if you didn’t already know,
he lives up in my head.
he claws at my brain,
pushes tears out of my eyes,
makes me soil the truth
by telling these lies.
he has the string and i’m the puppet ,
just thought you should know
i mean it when i say
i’m at an all-time low.
as the rain pours down
so do the tears down my face,
ripped the diamonds from my neck
and tore apart my lace.
glued the headphones in my ears,
pulled away from the people who care,
“doesn’t matter.” he whispers.
“they were never going to be there.”
so he’s made a home for himself
up there in my head,
Farmer Joe, there’s a reason
all your sheep are dead.

I FREAKING LOVE POETRY. i don't care that the boys snicker about me behind my back because i was writing verses on the top of my math binder. i don't care that my friends call me overdramatic for it, don't care that everyone forgets to support my endeavors until it concerns them don't care don't care don't care

2. LOVING YOURSELF DOES NOT MAKE YOU SELFISH. my love, it's necessary. it's okay to look in the mirror and think you're pretty. it's okay to put on makeup because you like the way it looks, or wear nothing on your face at all. it's okay to wear a dress because you know it's your crush's favorite color, but it's also okay to dress up for yourself. wear what you want, do what you want. **** **** up.

3. SHOOT YOUR SHOT 2018. go for it. go for him, go for her. take a risk. the worst thing they can say is no! and if they say no, you get the next best thing... closure and the ability to move on! release your fears like a truckload of bricks and let yourself learn to love.

4. YOU ARE TRYING YOUR BEST. YOU, YES YOU. life is freaking hard. it will kick your ***. but the question you need to ask yourself is will you get back up? there are dark days. i won't deny it, there are days when the rain won't stop pouring and you'll be drowning in it. but then, one day, the rain will cease and the sun will shine again. it may seem like a stretch, but one day.... i promise.

5. EVERYONE, LET ME LIVE MY LIFE. if i want to be a writer, let me. an engineer? that, too. take the classes i want? yep. hang out with the people i want to be surrounded with? definitely. don't judge my choices and compare them to your own, there's a reason i made that decision and not you. mind your own business, if it concerns you, i will consult you.

the one before you tried to heal my scars.
he always said
"baby, no one wants to buy damaged goods."
and i always nodded my head, kissed his cheek,
let him try and heal my scars so i would be
his perfect angel.
then you came along,
you encouraged me to leap under the fiery sun,
let my scars burn white hot like an angel's wings.
you always said
"baby, no one wants a carbon copy;
your scars make you the best kind of uniquely beautiful."
and although you may be gone now,
i will always remember to dance under the fiery sun
and let my scars burn white hot...
just like an angel's wings.