Like a peacocks feathers
I brightly and vibrantly show you how im feeling
Just in hopes that you might understand how I feel.
Bright blues and greens
I showcase my colors
All of my emotions
For we are one in the same
Fear my actions will go unanswered
But no doubt in my mind you will return the gesture
Flashes of pink and hints of purple
You call back
Your colors blinding my eyes and creating a masterpiece
Nothing but a couple of peacocks.

I aspired so much to be like her
I, myself, aspired so much to be like a person who didnt even aspire to be herself.
my thoughts were consumed with attempting to be like the girl i saw in front of me
but what were my eyes missing
My eyes, my eyes missed years of self despise, eyes filled with tears unable to cry, for she was too hurt.
My eyes missed the pain that she felt, the drugs she dealt all to gain new perspective and put a little green in the pockets that were almost torn.
i didnt even know who i was yet, but the thought of being her engulfed my every action.
all of my actions attempts to gain satifaction that i was one step closer to being the girl i saw.
and then was the moment i saw through it all.
this humpty dumpty i put so high up on an imaginary pedistol had her final fall.
This girl, was perfect, but in her mind she felt she didnt derserve it,
felt so far away from perfection she didnt know how to show it.
So she hid behind her clothes and her makeup, making everyone fall in love with a version of herself that was a lie.
A lie that left her broken and so unsure of herself and of peoples real emotions, because her real self had left so many turning for the door she didnt know how to portray herself in such a way to make anyone she loved or cared for stay.
Her story is real, her fall was so great that the impact was too much for her fragile broken body to take.
so she didnt take it. she took the easy way out.
she killed herself on the same day she lost herself long ago.
the same day she found that being a revolving door to men and their baggage was the only thing that made her forget for a while.
I hope shes happy where she is and i hope she will smile to know that i aspired to be the real her, not the one she appeared to be.

As the days go by my frustration grows.
Frustration so neglected it has taken over my life.
The want and need to write something so powerful,
so visionary that everyone will be able to relate to it on all levels.
Something so outstanding and unique it cant be copied,
or even ignored.
Not to please everyone just to relate to everyone and all things.
Living and non living.
Too much to ask for?
Most likely.
Can it be done.
Im counting on it.

I cant help but cry myself to sleep tonight,
for another customer lays asleep at my right.
When will this life of terror end?
In the brothel no one is your friend.
Used at night and tortured by day,
nothing at all will ever make this pain go away.
The owners convince us we owe them some debt,
but who am i to argue? i have no fight left.
Each night,fifty,sixty, men or more,
do they know that they hurt me?
or am i just a common *****?
i know my place and when to speak and behave.
But to them, and even to me,
im just a worthless *** slave.

These scars are my battle wounds
a reward after a long troubled battle with myself
but I won in the end
a symbolic trophy that my struggle is nowhere near over
I am left with the scars
scars where once a crimson red river flowed from them
scars healing over making dams barricading the red monster under them
to feel the sting of the blade in my hands once more
a natural high
the dams don't stand a chance against my new weapon of mass destruction
they will crumble and open at the very touch of the metal to skin
they have to
I have to feel that sensation once again
let the dams break open and the war begin.

I enter my room.
I search for the blade.
This feeling of death will never fade.
Maybe it was the drugs, the pills, the ****.
Maybe it was the feeling i wouldnt succeed.
Maybe it was my parents fighting at night.
Blaming me for their on going fights.
Maybe it's me, yes that's it!
Now tonight this will be it.
I will slip away and no one will care.
Not even friends who said they'd be there.
Still too young, not ready to go.
So much to live for.
I guess I'll never know..

Ana speaks to the ones who listen
a fallacy of fictional happiness
a gamekeeper of your life
she secretly kills you
keeping you alive with the hopes that one day you might get want you've always wanted
to be thin
you die
Ana lives
tormenting always
Ana never dies

****.
Forget. unreasonable. cravings. knockout.
****.
****. his. intimate. treasure.
*****.
Because. it. truthfully. causes.  hurt.
****.
Dont. admit. meaningless. nothings.
*******.
Most. of. the. happiness. ends. roughly. Forget. undesirable. creatures. emitting. regret.
*******.
Dont. undermine. morals. before. assessing. serious. situations.
HELL.
Handle. emotional. love. loss

She preserves her horrors in her bones
every detail carelessly engraved into her structure
every bump along the way creating a signature braille of her history
a silent story told by the curvature in her body
a girl crying on the inside
wheels of fake smiles and emotions move her
she is a mere puppet to a life she cannot control
the scars are too deep
she is too broken
she cannot tell her story
silenced by horror
her bones narrate.

With shaking hands do not touch me.
Shaking loose a silhouette of grief,
pain blankets the sky,
I tremble ; the past is coming.
swirling down upon me.
My inner core tenses at the thought of it all.
I will break,
the ground craking beneath me I shake.
your wrath.

There were tears in my eyes as I sat down to write this poem. I thought of all the times we shared, memories we made, and promises we kept. You were mine and I was yours, and the thought of anyone breaking up was absurd because we were together.
Blinded by love, we couldn’t see the mass destruction of our own souls and wellbeing.  We were so entangled and enveloped in each other we didn’t notice anything going on around us. We died inside of each other. Breathing in new particles of old limbs, memories, and mistakes, building ourselves anew with the ashes of what we were.
Like the phoenix we burned bright. A crimson red, we burned. Melting and fusing into one. One heart, one mind, one body, one soul.
And what were we left with? Cinders from the fire leaping out, touching the ones we loved and touched, and leaving them with the unintentional scars of our love. Do we really mean to hurt the ones we love, when all we are doing is becoming the person we think deserves someone else’s love? If we are who we are, then who are we? Are we the people we want to be? Or are we the people we told ourselves we would never become? Disappointment passed down through the lines, telling us we will never be what we expected.
No map just mazes. And it’s our responsibility to find our own way out. If we stumble upon someone to help us through the maze, we have found love. But only will that love be real and true, if you make it out of the maze. Leaving behind old partners for new versions of the people they could have been.
This maze is never ending. This maze is life.

coffee, so delicate, yet so simple.
it can give you the highest of buzzes,
to the deepest of thoughts.
coffee is a blank canvas.
the drinker is the artist.
splashing vibrant coats of sugar and milk, creamer flowing from brushes. spoons clanking and stirring a beautiful picture.
creating one of a kind work.
to each cup of coffee his own.

I was your curtain
High on a rod you hung me
Protector of your inner most secrets
A barrier between you and the outside world
Shielding you from unwanted light and judgments cast your way
Hiding the storm that lay outside your window
I was your curtain
Sheltering you from reality that you might look outside
Hiding you from all things a coat of armor
I was your curtain

Passed out on the couch. Ice cold.
Ice cold like the needle she used as a blindfold to the life she took no responsibility for.
Ice cold. Ice cold like the tombstones in the graveyard where she laid her boyfriend to sleep, left with a beautiful mistake she wanted to keep, but just like everything else besides drugs in her life, her baby didn’t fit her schedule. Forced to be put last on her to-do list, she “sheltered” her with lies and excuses that in reality were portrayed as bruises.
A personal punching bag to a worthless stab at a mother. Seeing your own flesh and blood as a barricade between you and your next fix, “I hate you” were words I was never afraid to admit. You left me, only seen as a nuisance to you. Forget about me as I can’t forget about you.
The final straw that broke the camel’s back. Was I too much to handle? I mean you handled your smack!
“*******” are the words that come to mind, when I think about you ninety-nine percent of the time.
If it’s possible to hate someone you barely know, well then that’s true because mom, mommy, *****, druggie, mother, I can honestly say I do.

They tell us to accept the skin we're in,
But how can I accept what society makes feel like a sin?
Gross to be bigger than a size one or two,
Does that sound realistic? Not to me, to you?
Purged souls on countless carbs of animosity,
The taste of self hate rich and buttery.
Magazines don't help, if only looks could ****,
Girls are starving and dying, I promise you not just for the thrill.
Hated and disgusted by their very own reflection,
Don't try and stop them it's a battle you'll never win.
Only bones can make them happy,
White porcelain devils flush their dignity gladly.
True selves lost with every vigorous flush,
The feeling so high, their own personal rush.
With every single flush they soon fade away,
Ask me how I know,
I was once that way.

The invisible scars that she carries can be blinding.
Scars from infancy with no conscious memories.
Inflicted by a thoughtless mother, too self-absorbed to realize the impact her senseless acts would leave on my beautiful child.
Your actions filled her with distrust, now she distrusts me.
Your actions filled her with fear, now she is consumed with fears.
Your actions made her feel unloved, now she cannot feel my love.
Your actions made her feel unworthy, now she questions her true value and identity.
You asked me not to judge you, and to walk in your shoes.
I so wish i could have walked in your shoes for 15 months. then my daughter would know love, trust, and self worth. She would be afraid of the monsters under her bed and in her closet, not the monsters that robbed her of the basic needs, safety, security, and love that all children deserve and need.
If only i could go back and walk in your shoes. Then the invisible scars would not blind me with their redness. If only i could erase the invisible scars that continue to haunt my daughter.

I lie on the floor
paralyzed in utter disgust
my mouth moving silently
for the words aching to come out
you know.
your mind intertwines with my own
your ears traveling through my brainwaves
listening
always listening
for what i think
you know.
You know dislike cannot compare to what i feel for you.
For what you did to me.
what you took from me.
convinced me to give you my childhood.
sealed the deal with a kiss.
the kiss of judas.
why sound like a broken record
repeating your violations against me
only to let you relive them.
why do i bother.
for what i think of you,
what you did,
you know.

I lost myself somewhere in the haze
In the haze my thoughts, emotions, and state of mind were thrown in to a whirlwind and out stepped someone I had never met before..someone I didn't care to know.

The mirror always wins.
showing images you never wanted to see.
hiding doesnt exist.
the mirror holds nothing back.
violently shoving unwanted graphics into the open pores you once called eyes.
not eyes anymore.
eyes are to see with.
your eyes are brainwashed and turned against you.
burning.
eyes trained to burn through cement.
seeing every ounce of fat you try to hide.
nothing can protect you from yourself.
pound by pound.
ounce by ounce.
your eyes discriminate against you.
deathly,poison, your worst enemy.
*mirror, mirror, on the wall, who is the fattest of us all?

Are we on the A-team when we abuse others?
Torture them because we don't approve of who they choose for lovers.
Are we on the A-team when we make them feel so small, that everything else in their lives gets bigger?
So big and so scary forcing them to pull a trigger.
Are we on the A-team when we pick on her because of her weight?
Not caring at all, that because of this, shes picked a date to end her life, a terrible, terrible fate.
Are we on the A-team when we don't stand up for what is right?
Causing others to be put down, no more hope left to fight.
Now the question lies with you...
Are you on the A-team?

when you look into my eyes,
do you see her?
do you see the girl you fell in love with?
Or do you see a broken silhouette where she once was?
you could have made her stay you know.
you could have made her feel alive and wanted.
you could have made her love every inch of herself,
every fiber of her being you claimed to love in the beginning.
what changed that for you?
was it when you found out she was different?
found out she had scars deeper than the grand canyons valleys.
found out she was used merchandise.
found out, that no matter how hard you tried you couldnt erase the memories.
skin inked with distrust and abuse.
no empty canvas was left for your saving fingerprints.
no room to spill kindness and love,
no room for change.
so you, just like everyone else shes ever known,
left her.
you packed your bags and got out while you could.
if you only knew the envy she felt towards you.
You see, you could pick up everything and leave.
while her baggage comes with a lifetime guarantee,
weighed down by skeletons in her closet.
she can not escape.
You left her.
broken, vulnerable, and dying.
So when you looked at her you saw it didn't you?
saw what makes everyone leave eventually...
*you saw her

looks can ****
words can save
you have the choice

the taste of metal fills my mouth
blood seeping from broken capillaries
ive grown accustomed to the taste
lets me know im alive
just the taste though
the pain is non-existent
i feel nothing
frozen over
a heart turned to ice
in the split second it took for you to judge me
im protecting myself
you say you know me..
funny because i dont.
the taste of blood is the only thing i know
security.

If nothing is for certain,
then why is certainty the only emotion I feel with you?
Heart beats skipping like grade schooler's hopskotching on my ventricles
I was, I am, enamored that I, a once heartless being, could feel this way.
Uncertainty is the only thing certain to drown my thoughts
But if nothing is for certain,
how can I be sure that my thoughts are even real?
Who decides what is right or wrong, true or false, real or fake?
Because if nothing is for certain,
I say with great uncertainty that I indeed do like you.

a life drowned in music
smothered in depression
and kept in the shadow of my past mistakes.
relating to every word some black man spits,
through the radio our hearts are connected.
I feel every beat in the bass as a stab to my heart.
talking about getting money, ******* women,
and life on the streets.
Maybe we aren't so different after all.
His streets my hallways,
his money my dream,
his women my regrets,
his words my swag.
I rock to the beat of struggle and pain,
a mixed boys struggle,
a life with no end.
Alone? not really.
But a feeling so natural it's comfortable,
a feeling I hate, yet its the only thing that lets me know I'm alive.
A beat so unique once it's heard you'll never forget it
A beat that gets stuck in your head and won't ever come out
This beat is me.

The tunnel is for those of us who can not see the sun
It's not that we are blind, or that the sun isnt shining
it's that we chose to see the truth

A tunnel of hiden pain
secrets, stories that make us,
A tunnel so deep and dark only few survive the fall
The spiraling fall to the depths of our broken minds
our minds so torn, the things we think could ****
In reality we come across as your average teen,
but mentally and emotionally we are so much more
our thoughts and our minds torment us
if the things in our head came to life no one would survive.

And so the tunnel was made,
a tunnel for only the special ones to enter,
a tunnel where there is no light,
a tunnel of our true self.

Hard cold sweat beads dribble down the frame of my face
My mind in a frantic race against time.
Will I make it?
Will it be too late?
My body rounds the corner at full force,
smashing into nurses,
the contents of their trays now sprawled throughout the hallway.
No time to stop.
I must keep moving.
I make my way to the elevator,
too crowded, I head for the stairs.
Never stopping,
faster! faster!
Fifth floor.
sixth.
seventh.
eighth.
As I reach the ninth floor, I begin to sprint.
Not stopping.
All heads turn in my direction.
I am almost there.
Room 201.
202.
203.
As the spray painted silver numbers 204 flash in front of my face,
I bound through the door.
I am instantly numb.
The sight of you in a hospital bed,nearly lifeless, pale, and fragile, brings me to my knees.
Just a couples weeks earlier you were so full of energy, so.. happy.
As I walk closer to your bedside,
the full image comes into focus.
Laying there so still, so quiet, any slight change of breath would be noticed.
You have no hair.
A place where once my fingers loved to graze,
a place filled with endless complements,
Hair so blonde it would make the sun jealous.
I weep at your bedside.
Memories streaming down my cheeks,
drowned in the salt water flowing from my eyes.
I take your hand.
So cold, but yet so normal.
The one thing untouched by the cancer.
Your long fingernails, perfectly painted just the way you like it.
I gently kiss your hand.
You dont move, or even open your eyes.
But sure enough you smiled.
Not your big cheesy grin you always do,
but a smile so small, only few would notice.
A smile just for me.
And with that smile,
I whispered "I love you."
And you, the love of my life, so young, and so beautiful,
took your last breath.
With your last breath came a small draft of air.
And in that moment,
I swear I heard your voice carried through the room,
The soft tone of your voice whispered back;
*" I love you too."

Metal armies invade my womb.
taking care of what I cannot.
clinging to me for life,
I carelessly take yours away.
Marching to the slow drum of your not yet formed heart.
The armies march.
Away from me they go.
Content with a job well done .
My body aches.
You are no longer with me.
Three moths flew by so fast.
You were growing so big.
And yet I killed you.
With metaphorical hands I murdered my baby.
They did the job, but they know not what I go through since you've been gone.
I think back to the shiny hospital bed.
The pan they carelessly threw you into.
Thrown away like garbage.
I think of my stomach.
Flat once again.
No life within it's walls.
Room checked out.
Cleaning crew comes.
My belly is new again.
Maybe ready to try again someday.
Life taken.
Vacancy.

How dare you speak,
or rather choke my name out of your mouth.
A crevasse so dry an empty,
I am bewildered you could even remember it.
You throw out these dusty words into the air,
my name spread unto this uncaring and ungrateful world.
Why speak of me?
The past has happened.
move along.
Calling out old skeletons in a closet that has been locked for centuries.
Do you speak to call me back?
Are you alone like the many times I was?
Even the slighteset taste or even touch of human flesh to you would help.
Not from me.
Do not tie my arms with this bile you speak from you lips.
I block my ears in fear that I might hear the call from your soul
The one that captivated me and so many others before.
Do not blanket me with lies.
Lies told with such skill that you believe them yourself.
Crawl back into the depths of my closet.
Do not bang on the locked wood that I might let you in again.
Off with you
Be gone.
The past has happened.

A burning dandelion
wishes upon wishes turned to ash
countless wishes
are nothing more than embers floating in the wind now
my wishes burn
will they still come true?

the gentle curve your upper lip makes when you smile
I could watch you smile forever

the way your body tenses and then relaxes when you're kissing me
wanting so much but resisting
I'll want you forever

The humming of your breath wrapped in my hoodies
I will never wash them
I could listen to you breathe forever

The smell of your cologne left lingering on my shirts
I will never forget some of those nights
I could smell your scent forever

The closeness and security all of your hugs brought to me
wrapping me up keeping me safe
I could hug you forever

The truth in your voice when you last said "I love you"
I wish I could hear it once more
I'll love you forever

unrequited.
a word I must get used to.
you say actions speak  louder than words but your actions are lying.
every word previously spoken just leaves me upset or crying.
my body stings around the places you once held it.
anything I felt for you I now regret it.
I didn't know that you never felt the same.
you led me on never showing an ounce of shame.
you didn't care and now I'm left with the pain.
the pain of knowing you is the worst yet.
none of my feelings for you will I forget.
especially the ones engraved in me now.
after all this time I meant that little to you.
and yet you didn't care because I was "giving it up to you"
that's what you do with the person you love
you stole that from me there is no life judge
I cant go to court, like you'd plead guilty anyway
how many girls hearts do you have locked away?
well here's one added to the shelf
along with that you took my self wealth.
just give it all back,
but then again maybe I don't want it.
I trusted you but all your words weren't honest.
so here's one for the books
a girls message back to you.
and I hope one day you find what those girls gave to you.
a heart.
now I know for you that may not be so easy to find.
I hope you have to search until the end of time
to the depths of hell where you originated
I can honestly say you're the only person I've ever truly hated.
so take these words,
ones others may be scared to say
and look at yourself,
because that's all you have at the end of the day.

If you do not know me
do not attempt to walk the route I take everyday
do not try to understand what I go through
do not let your heart beat the sad rhythmic drum mine has beaten all my life
If you walk in my shoes you'll die
no hope of ever escaping my life
my troubles and my happiness walk hand in hand
never knowing which is which you live on the verge
on the verge of being happy or sad
depressed or full of energy
it's my life not yours
do not try to comprehend my troubles
my closet is far to filled
no more room for any skeletons
just leave while you still can

Post page depression
The feeling you get after reading a poem or passage
One that touches you so deeply
You connect to every loop
Every curve
Every change of pattern in the writer’s hands
Held captive aboard ship of his imagination
Floating on an endless sea of words
Drowning yourself in syllables and sounds
Diving deeper down
Until you finish the poem
Then what do you do?
Go on rants
Seek a write that can match or even top
The emotions you felt when reading the other
This my friends
Is post page depression

They tell us to live our lives
but they give us so little time to do just that
placed under the constant constraint of rules and laws
how is that living?
living is to be free
but there is no time for that.
living is to be alive in all ways
but they give us no time for that.
when life stops my ticking clock,
will i be satisfied?
satisfied with every tick mark,
every minute on that clock,
because in those minute marks
are countless nights of fun, laughter, and heartbreak,
in those minutes,
I lived.
but will the minutes i spent doing what i was told to do,
or even made to do take over?
will they outweigh the times i was truly free?
will any of it matter?
if only i could stop my ticking clock to go back and count,
count and get an overall calculation.
but i keep living.
never stopping until my clock stops.
no time to go back.

A lifeless corpse I lay on the floor.
I shake with fear you might return.
Clothes once on my broken limbs,
lie ripped and tattered on the floor.
Blood runs down my face
a wound from being too loud.
"Shut up! Someone will here you!"
A scream cut short by a blow to the head.
Blurred vision.
In my happy place I pretend that you are my husband and you love me.
Your hot breathe down my spine.
Your hands clutching my innocence.
Holding it above my head.
You've won.
Hazy memories engraved into me forever.
You will always be a family member.
But I will always love you.
Daddy by day.
Monster by night.

Boy meets girl,
Girl meets boy.
His heart a temple,
Her heart a toy.
She thinks yes,
He thinks no.
She says stop,
He says go.
He plays with her heart like a childhood toy,
She cries for hours about the stupid boy.
She calls two times,
He texts her back.
He wants her gone,
She wants him back.

Forever alone,
definitely not.
forever me,
that's more like it.
if I am me then im happy.
No guy deserving of my love would want any more or any less.
no changesto be made.
To say the hit "call me maybe" describes my life would be an understatement.
Im one of those girls who unfortunately falls for guys too soon.
I tend to be overly involved and excited than i should be,
but hey, more to love.
My life is changing rapidly.
No car, no boy, and school.
It may not seem like it now,
but ill make it through this.
Forever alone. never.
Forever me. always.

The inner pounding in my chest has stopped.
My heart is broken.
regret and self pity fill me with vile sensations.
I want only to cease the pain it continues to bring me in the darkest hour of night.
When I am alone with my thoughts.
A pain that was once joy throbbing inside of me.
Now a pain that kills me slowly with each pump of blood.
My heart a tool of my very own self destruction.
I must destroy it.
Yet I continue to live with it
A daily reminder that I must not end.
A daily reminder that you're slowly killing me.
Inside and out.

Did you not know that i loved you,
when every fiber of my being, like fibers mended to form the tight bindings of the sweater you forced me to wear called "your love" took over me?
Did you not know that every inch of my soul longed so much to be one with yours, so much, that the very thought of you brought tears to my eyes?
Those tears that i cried every night for moths that washed me clean of my relationship, but never of the shame or guilt, they were the feelings that let me know i was still alive on my own.
For i breathed in you, and you in me, and we were one.
But so easily, you pulled the one loose string, and our love, what we had,
became nothing more than a pile of old thread.

a dust blows in the wind.
that which of many bodies burned and broken.
I inhale.
ashes crowd my mouth and i am no longer alone.
I am with the many who died that day.
Families  search for loved ones in the ruins.
I carelessly breathe them in.
they are returned to the world through my tears.
Cloudy tears stream my face as i think.
Dust covers my face, as i watch people fall from the sky.
Are they living? Are they alive?
Running people trampled looking for shelter.
I think of the planes.
The people on them, and the fate they soon would encounter.
I sheild my face for fear of recognition, that one may cry with me.
The smell of burning flesh and gasoline fills my nostrils, i can not breathe.
I gasp for air.
Connected through burning bodies, tumbling buildings, and falling limp corpses.
A connection so deep, we fear the day.
A day when we remember.
A day when the nation changed.
A day that will haunt us forever.

I breathe.
In out.
An exchange of oxygen and carbon dioxide
between my lungs and an unforgiving world.
how many breaths does it take to get to the end of a life?
filth slowly filling up our lungs.
slowly killing us.
we can stop it though.
we can end it early.
we have the power.
but we will never know the answer to the on going question;
*how many breaths does it take to get to the end of a life?

If I could get a tattoo
it obviously would not be of  you
you already scarred me deeper than any needle and ink ever could.
unknowingly etching your future into mine,
thats not what I want.
the removal process would take too long,
years of treatment.
This invisible tattoo you left me with,
unseen to anyone else,
I see everyday.

I guess i picked the wrong player,
in the wrong game of Guess-Who.
because I'm sure by complete mistake,
I ended up with you.
Brown hair? yes.
Brown eyes? yes.
But what questions did the back of the red, white, and blue cards forget to ask?
Cheater? yes.
Liar? yes.
Questions so important, they just happened to leave them off the back of the card.
Oh, i bet the one person dying to know the answer to these questions would be your girlfriend!
He lies, he cheats, come get the one for you!
because even though we never dated,
I'm breaking up with you.

do you ever feel so lost?
not lost in a way where can't find your way home
but lost in way where nothing seems to make sense
no matter how hard you try something goes amiss
wanting to talk to, see and just be close to that one person
without feeling like you are completely annoying them
they say they want to see you too but never make the effort
talking for two months and you've only hung out once
but that one hang out made all the difference
englufing you in what you ultimately tried to avoid after failed attempts
you fall into like with him
he captivates you
every message glowing on the screen making you fall harder
thats when you know
you've gotta get out while you still can.

I have lived a life full of mistakes and regrets. Sometimes nothing seems to make sense, and I go to my dark place. Where the only colors there are the ones I create for myself. Some colors based on feelings, other colors based on emotions towards memories I’ve tried to bury there. Nothing seems to keep them in the black grave I’ve tried so many times to burn them. They always seep back into my mind little by little, one by one. I can’t control them. I can barely control myself. This mass make up of atoms and shades of various colors, engulf me in your rainbow and take me away.

Strung out.
used.
forgotten.
There is something about the way you told me I would be yours forever,
that made me believe you.
Something hidden inside of the smile I loved.
Something undescribable.
Inviting me into my doom.
You quickly flipped the script and I was alone.
Not that you didnt like me, you said.
But that you werent ready to invest.
Invest?
Invest?!
Tell me you werent ready to invest..
Thats how a relationship starts.
That is what a relationship is.
Im so confused.
You know you didnt want to invest in me.
So why should I invest my time into writing this about you.
Hurt speaks in many ways.
But I invest my pain into poetry.

What.
What does it mean to have to ability to see the things unseen
by the common population?
Does it mean that every movement
every sound
has a deeper value than something unwanted and shallow?
unnoticed by most
but so very relevant
to the ones it holds meaning for.
Why do we let things deminish our self worth?
To whom it may concern I care.
I actually do care.
I feel everything.
Sometimes to deeply.
But surely enough I feel it.
No matter what may come out of my mouth
unto a world that is not yet ready for my greatness,
I will continue to care and make it known to others.
To whome it may concern.

You will always hold a piece of me.
A piece I will never get back.
Voyage upon voyage unsuccessful to retrieve this missing piece of me.
But no matter if I find it or not, this piece will never become me.
It will never fit in the jigsaw that is my life.
Edges worn down and torn from too much use,
Unrecognizable after all of the abuse.
Longing to fit where it once did effortlessly.
I was in place, everything was fine,
But somehow you managed to contort just one piece out of line.
A piece that you took without even asking,
But a piece I will find even if it's the last thing I do.
Because that piece never belonged to you,
Finders keepers losers weepers, it was still stolen.
Never fully made yours yet you claimed it as your own