I don't believe in having a clean room. I don't believe in having a perfect complexion, or always having the right thing to say at the right time.
Because for me, beauty is in the chaos of everything.
Those times when people get home so drunk that they leave on their clothes and don't take off their makeup. They wake up with crinkled hair and a messy look on their face, confused. When people are in their most innocent state, so completely consumed with a feeling that everything else fades. When they aren't trying to be someone their not, not trying to keep up the facade of being the person with a clean room and a made-up bed. The people who are crying so much that there's spit and tears everywhere, but keep on crying. I fall in love with people in their most chaotic moments, because those to me are the beautiful.

1,            2,            3,

what is wrong with me?

4,             5,            6,

i guess i'm just a *****.

7,             8,            9,

it's alright, leave me behind.

1,             2,            3,

that's how it was always supposed to be.

my body has its own self-destruct button.
it's quite easy to push,
being located where my mistakes meet the anger,
i have concealed oh so eloquently,
for never being enough.

they tremble in fear, perspiring, shaking, shuddering.
for these hands are terrified.

not for the things that would seem obvious,
not a serial killer, or a deadly disease, or a difficult test

these hands, they are afraid of their owner.

because they know what she will do with them
when her heart is too heavy
and the tears flood into an ocean

as she draws her pain with the blades
they can't stop her.
they can't convince her she's better than this,
that it isn't worth her death.

these hands can only shake and tremble in fear.

i'll keep them cast down tonight.

bang,bang,bang,

tears flow down my flushed cheeks.

but you'll never know why.

I wear a misleading smile these days better than Blake Lively wears a baby doll dress
That kind of smile that hides all the *******on the inside and falsely assures my being OK

sometimes words are so unbelievably, inexplicably, incomprehensibly, beautiful.
they can sweep you up off of your feet with their hope, and spin you around in circles with their wonder as you grin at of all the blurred colors around you.
sometimes they can be the only way you make it through the night,
sometimes they can make you fall in the deep-sea-diving type of love that'll make you never want to come up for air,
sometimes they paint pictures prettier than the most stunning sunset.

but on days like today,
the words that bounce around in my head spoken from angry mouths and a tired brain,
all of these words might just be the death of me.

love is the matter-less air
*and sometimes we forget how much we need to breathe

I tripped the other day
Then fell onto my knees
As soon as my skin collided with the concrete
I knew I was in trouble
Out poured the blood, all the way down to my toes
Staining the ground and wetting my eyes

And that was how it felt when I first met you

How am I going to save you?

See it's number one on my to-do list,
And that little box is begging to be checked.
And i'm crying and worrying and losing sleep just wondering,

How am I supposed to do this?

But every single effort I make is falling through
And I see those scratches and cuts and...
I know that I would die if I lost you.

the other day,
i opened my heart wounds for you to see.
bleeding and exposed,
i thought you would let them heal, and leave them be.
but since your eyes were sharp and unclean,
you only stabbed and infected me.

I long, I long, for the warmth of his hand in mine.
To feel his fingers twitch and perspire and gently tighten around the spaces between my fingers.
I long, I long, for the warm puffs of air to caress the back of my neck as they make their journey away from his mouth.
To know that even when the monsters called nightmares do their absolute worst, his lips are only a breath away, ready to save me.
I long, I long, for the warmth of his eyes.
To continually hold their chocolate heat with my own, warming my very heart with each bat of his lashes.