I was falling for you faster than I ever had before,
You tore my walls down ,
by being yourself,
your embrace was my castle,
And you were the guard,
I blindly trusted you to protect what matters most to me,
you see ,
I guess we were not meant to be,
but what to I do with this half finished symphony,
I tattooed onto my heart,
your memory haunts me,
on the basement couch,
where you heard my thoughts in silence,
and held me as i cried,
after you discovered one of my demons,
In the campfire smoke,
that stings my eyes,
the same way the tears do  ,
You haunt me in the constellations,
I feel you as i sit amongst the grass,
we used to lay upon the grass,
tangled in blankets,
and the warmth of the other,
we used to talk,
we never did stop,
until you let worry silence you,
I don’t let what i can not control have power over my voice,  
I wonder what your doing,
I went from ridding shot gun,
to driving three cars behind,
you placed me in your blind spot,
now all I get are snapshots,
on Snapchat and Instagram,  
I’m left wondering who I am to you,
I hope I’m not just “some girl I knew”

Forever forgotten
Was the blue colored sky
Replaced by the milky white dome
Designed to fit their polluted time

As young children lay their head to rest
A pasty pillow
A chalky night dress
And their ivory ceilings
Covered in painted charcoal stars
An artificial image forever stained on their hearts

Never will they look out at the clear pearl moon
Thinking of someone
Wondering if they're thinking of you

No snow coats the grass
In the cool winter months
No alabaster dandelions lacing the air
You can't find any white nature here

But in this moment it’s 2017
And i’m laying on the hunter green grass
Amongst the stars and the trees
And I wonder when history books will talk of this time
When the sky wasn’t painted white

you don’t see,
for who I really am,
and i know that sounds,
cliche and over said,
but it true ,
when it rolls right off my tongue,
and it kills me,
that these words have to be sung,

Brown haired green eyed girl,
my body,
cant be misunderstood,
but its,
when I look inside ,
how i feel on what I see,
Its why others,
cant know what its like to be me,

They think I’m stuck up,
because I care bout I look,
But what they don’t know,
are all the times I cried,
oh how i shook,
when my mama,
yelled at me,
greasy hair,
overweight,
“your not pretty”

They think I’m stupid,
I don’t know anything,
all that I’m good for,
is acting ditzy,
and they dont see,
the hours i spend,
locked my room,
book open,
hand numb,
instead of out,
having fun,

brown haired,
green eyed girl,
my body,
cant be misunderstood

I walk down the beach,
I look as though time has done me well,
But it has not,
The sand sinks as I walk upon it,
leaving foot prints to be washed away,
by the ever changing tide,
I realize I have not left enough marks,
on the cement.

cement is hard to mark.

It takes years upon years,
to even create a crack,
only to get stomped on,
again and again,
unnoticed.

I reach down to find a seashell in the sand,
such beauty amongst the grain,
yet hidden under nothingness,
masked by the sun,
and tumbled in the water,
whisked away,
to be lost at sea.

I remember when my heart had passion,
and I could do more than stumble down a beach,
when I could stand up,
when I could speak out,
my voice not lost,
joined together with those who also believed they could make a difference,
that they could be the stone found on the beach,
made into a necklace,
that commanded attention everywhere it went.

I approach a young boy,
he looked sad,
When I asked what troubled his mind,
He said he skipped a rock,
3 skips,
3 skips and it was gone forever,
"No!" I replied,
keep skipping the rock I told him,
Keep making ripples and one day the ocean will roar for you.

I can't synthesize my feelings,
Hopeless desires,
Of hopeful wonder,
Breed sadness among joy,
Scoundring moments,
Where my dying heart feels elated,
Where time isn't spent,
Wasteful nights decoding,
Melancholy thoughts,
Clouding the paper my fingers write upon,
My mirthless body feels pain,
During moments of bliss.

This is me… before me. Before I learned of the secret rules, before I broke them, and my self confidence payed the price. Before my self love was stronger than my self hate. Before I started to appreciate complements and stopped obsessing over every negative comment that spilled off tongues of those who never mattered. Before I learned the power of the word “No”. Before the boys from fairy tails blossomed into the villains I grew up watching in superhero movies and fought , but lost too, in video games.

Before I realized I had control of the names I was called. That ***** and **** didn’t define me, if I never even let them past the walls I was going to build around myself. Before I realized “friend” was not a term to be thrown around, that friends don’t throw your feelings around, that friends don’t break down your walls only to throw bullets at your heart. Then leave you alone to build yourself back up. brick by dull brick.

Before my future became the light at the end of the tunnel. That determination was the spark that changed me from wanting to be a girl from a fairy tail, into the woman in the poetry I drowned myself in. The ones who fought for the sexes to be equal and the world to be right. The woman who couldn’t sleep at night, kept up by the injustices that plagued the world she lived in.

Now I know I have a choice, Now I know I have a Voice.

My parents named me,
based on my baby blue eyes,
and blond hair,
now my golden locks,
are muddy brown,
and my eyes change with the weather,

sometimes others are confused,
throwing variations of my name around,
as if avoiding the sound of uncertainty ,
that follows those five letters,

and occasionally I hear my mundane name,
faintly in the air,
suddenly I don’t care,
I’ve stopped turning around,
Ive forgotten the sound,

and every time I meet someone new,
they ask “what should I call you”,
I don’t know what to say,
my body there,
but my mind astray,
so I mumble “Angel”,
slightly ashamed,
I don’t even know my own name