As a young girl, I was taught that a boy being cruel to me , treating me like absolute crap, meant that he liked me.

Maybe that’s why I get into the situations I do now.

Maybe that’s why I’ve had no luck.

I fall for the cruel , mistaking hate for unconditional love.

She always looks like she is in a daze
like she’s lost something.
A person, maybe.
A love, if you will.

The smoke runs in front of my face while we sit in her car.
“What have you lost?” I ask.

“I’ve lost my will to live. I’ve lost my will to love. I’ve lost my hope in happiness.”

I want to tell her things will be okay. But how do I know?
I stay silent I cannot lie

One of these days someone is going to fall in love with you
The way you fell in love with them
It will be like a second nature to the both of you
To love yourselves
and to love each other
Oh how beautiful
Oh how soft
Your love
It could build mountains
It could create wonders

Ghosts exist
Ghosts haunt us
Existence is an art form
Ghosts exist

Therefore if someone calls me art
They could confirm that I am a ghost
That I am the one that haunts your thoughts
when you sleep at night

That I’m the one you tell your friends stories about
Around the campfire

I am stuck in this body that I do not have control over
in this body that I do not have any clue what to do with

most would say their bones ache from travelling all day
my bones ache from not moving from my bed for 24 hours straight

trying to grab something from the other side of my room
without getting up

not even fearing the fall.

I don’t want it
I don’t want to be told I have constellations in my eyes
I don’t want to be told I have galaxies in my veins
I don’t want to be told I am your entire universe
All of your stars
I want to be told that I am a handful
A handful you wouldn’t mind holding forever
I want to be told
that I am enough

you're my empty canvas

i will paint my love , all over you

with all the reds

and all the blues