He told her she was pottery; a vase with grooves and cracks.
The patterns of the history she hid behind her back.

Within his words he layered in- like thread upon a loom-
The sweetest undercurrent to illuminate that gloom.

In certain cultures, he decreed, when pottery is cracked
They aggrandize them with gleaming gold to bring their splendor back

For they believe, with certainty, once damage has been wrought
Those tiny cracks, now filled with light, hold truths that can't be taught.

One day if I'm gone
I hope everyone will remember me as the girl who couldn't stop smiling because I never did not even during my last moments;
I hope the loss of my presence on this earth doesn't leave a bitter aftertaste but rather a swift kick of sweetness,
I hope all the pictures and memories of me remind you of the good times; and good times only,
I hope you do forgive me for leaving without a notice.

i wrote a lot of great poetry when i was in love
i wrote even better poetry when i was in pain
i wrote the best poetry when i realized that the two emotions were actually the same.

4/17/17

You ever wanna lick a lollipop?
You ever wanna take turns licking the lollipop
With your loved one?
You ever wanna lick the lollipop at the same time
But your loved one shoves
the whole lollipop
stick and all
Down their throat
Swallows it
Asphixiates on the mere Concept
Of ever having licked the lollipop in the first place
Let alone the reality that you
You, the love of their life,
They, the victim of ultimatum
Have both licked the lollipop?
.
.
.
Have
You ever been the lollipop?

I can feel the barbs and the thorns
protruding from my skin
as i sit hunched and quiet
dont touch me dont touch meE don t tou ch me
every fingertip feels like knives
and your kisses are a cruel poison.
i am my own armour
because in this story,
the pinpricked princess
saves herself.

do you feel safe within yourself?
do your beliefs battle your feelings?




what can i do to fight a winning battle?