I hate you lonleness ihate my empty arms
no smile at the end of day
I don't like meals for one
I miss conversation
and words that say I love you
no more childrens voices
no more family friends
no more joy
no more laughfter
no more happy ever after
will I ever smile again ?

We are the Misfits, the underdogs
We are the uncomfortable silence being sprinkled like salt around the dinner table
for we’d rather drink the tap water
We are the influx of doctor’s bills drowning mother’s in shame confusion and debt-
our father’s were confused too but then they learned to forget.
We are the daddy’s little girls who used easy bake ovens and had barbies by the dozens
Those childrens toy’s turned into drugs and boys
so now we undress like Barbie and get baked
like the sweet potato my momma left for me in her human sized oven
All of a sudden
We are the little boys playing with power rangers
pretending that curfew was our only danger
But don’t you love it when they call you big Poppa?
From poppin a slam dunk to poppin a cap in your homeboy’s head
Because you’d rather be a gangster than listen to what momma said

We are the young men getting less than, five hours of rest in
a week because there’s a mermaid who stole his heart and hid it so deep
the **** boy’s trying to grow gills
We are the mermaids falling for sea monsters
who knew of the danger but didn’t give a ****.

( She’d do anything for you you know that? If you went to jail I swear to God she’s rob a bank just so you could both be incarcerated.)

We are the youngest girl and boy in the emergency room at 1 in the morning
I can hear my mom’s boyfriend in the corner there snoring
We are the youth with confidence like sinking ships
We live off of prayers for the oncoming apocalypse

Welcome to Misfit Island
the fog on the lake at 2 in the morning looks like a sheet of glass
separating a goblet of moonlight and a mug of dark fright
We jump on the beach like astronauts and forget everything our grandparents taught us
We are the lovers loving with the strength of every particle beam or lazer
because if it wasn’t love it’d sure as hell be a razor

We choose moonlight and philosophy over structured life hypocracy
because we are the misfits.
We are the listeners, the observers
We are the panic attacks written between your math quiz and midnight purge
We are the bipolar, manic, ridden with panic, schizophrenic, depressed, never not stressed
Eating disordered, Addicted, and every other diagnosis written 2013’s edition of DSM
We are the soldiers going to war with our own country day in and day out
there’s no voter’s booth in the universe that can make us put our weapons down.

But we are the misfits, plural
we come to this beach to laugh and to cry, giving every answer a capital WHY  
because our insides differ
we are not the same
Welcome to Misfit Island, we are young and insane
Do not be fooled by our high school transcripts or unshaven faces and hairy armpits
We hold more gold within each and every one of our souls
than you could ever dream to sell or bend to fit the mold
our screams will dance in song and with every breath we take
we learn to forgive our past and how to learn from our mistakes

There's a new kind of war.

My blind willingness to follow you
into the darkest and most desolate alleyways,
my undying devotion to your warmth,
the overwhelming desparity of my struggle
all have me cardiac-arrested.

You're the captor.

It happened on the eve of a new moon,
her face turned away to hide her shame
over her daughter's decision to be guided by light.
The night may have birthed me,
but I could not ignore the brilliance of your glow.
Tides must be the forces behind your eyes
because I've seen the ebb and flow of emotion behind them.

Did you know the moon controls tides?

The waves are what bring you and I together,
contrasting yet connecting darkness and light.
Ebb--the moon pulls you towards her with the gravity of her breath.
Flow--she releases you from her imprisonment and into freedom to follow your own light.

Constanty swaying between two opposing forces:
that's when the battle was born.

I may possess enough strength to pull you towards me,
but other forces push you away and into her arms instead.
It is on the corner of her Push and my Pull
that the battlefield called Love was formed.

-mp

She is my best friend
The one girl who has always loved me and never left me
My side kick in crime
We stalk the cold streets at night
She has held my hand she has wiped my tears and
She has kissed me on my cheek endless times
Showing up at her doorstep ****** and crying
Had another fight at the house
She never judged me
She is there for me an I am there for her
We know no different
From punk kids to young adults
We still howl at the moon
When were drunk and not giving a ****
She is my best friend
The one I can count on when things in life
When things in my life don't seem right
I am her best friend
I have held her hand I have wiped her tears and
I have kissed her on the cheek endless times
When she is feeling lost and hopeless
She gives me a call
I fly I run I transport
I'm there
We are best friends til death do us apart

The black and white butterfly is now stained red and purple.

When I was 16 my mom decided that the best way for her to feel good about her body again was to get plastic surgery.
Now my mom was always beautiful.
She was petite, had a tiny waist, full hips, and an overall curvy body.
In my eyes, she was perfect and I would've loved to look like her.

But she was unhappy.

Her stomach wasn't flat enough.
Her thighs too big and lets not even talk about the **** she felt was too small.

So cut, cut, cut away.
Tear her open.
Take the undesirable parts away and throw them out.
Never speak of them again.
But add some there.
Too little.
Not enough.
Don't worry about the person under all that skin.

Make them pretty again.
Make them pretty again.

And now look at her.
Hunched over because "beauty is pain."

And the butterfly tattoo on her lower back bleeds and red and purple, the colors of her bruised skin.

i didn’t deserve what you gave to me
maybe i did
you made me believe it
you told me so
you stole my innocence
cliche, i know
you took my time of childhood
  my youth
turned it into something to use and abuse
eight years later and i still can’t sleep right
terrified of the dark, scared to go out at night
i can’t be alone
i don’t even want to leave my own home
bruised flesh, ripping and tearing is something a twelve year old should never have known
three years later, how was i supposed to figure out something that i was never shown
i learned to use makeup before i hit puberty
to cover up the marks so my own parents couldn’t see
i never knew that it didn’t have to hurt
so what started out as a little quickly got worse
there was more after you
not one, but two
i finally lost my nerve to stand up and speak
after all the times you called me weak
i didn’t know what they wanted wasn’t me
just because i’m okay today doesn’t mean i’ll ever be free
what about the others? were there others? where are they today?
i’ll do anything just to know they’re okay
why was it me? by now i don’t even care
was it just because i was there?
where am i? i couldn’t remember over and over
for two years after i was hardly sober
i know i’m destroyed, damaged and lacking
one year more and i finally swore there would never be anymore attacking
when i get the feeling i’m inadequate
i still feel like i deserve to be hit
even now when the someone looks into my eyes
i move away and i try to hide
it wasn’t a learning experience
it didn’t teach me a lesson
these once bright eyes have lost all their brilliance
and this defective heart has started to deaden
by now i’ve come to realize there’s only today, there’s no going back
you’ve turned me into what i am, i won’t thank you for that
what you took from me i’ll never get back
you stole the only light this soul ever had

There had been you
In my life for so long,
It would keep that way
I had hoped,
But I knew that all good things end
They must, it is only natural
That I would be heart broken again
The tears will come later
After I have gotten onto the plane
The sadness will leave
After time has passed
I will miss your voice and laugh
Such a dear friend,but I know
That you think nothing of me
You are caught up on hopes
For a woman that is unattainable
Someone who you see as perfect
Well this is our collision my friend
We all make interesting choices
I would've chosen you everyday
Though I know you would be the first
To leave me by the roadside
Almost strange how it took a decade,
A few bad choices and your words
For me to realize how we differed
In our value of people, friendship and love
I won't forget your my dear
But I will let you go
I've done it before
I just never thought it would be you.