Your bedroom was small
But it held big dreams of mine

I should've known that first night
When you kissed me all too boldly
That what we had would unravel
So coldly

I should've known after 2 days of not hearing from you
All my visions and aspirations with you
Were ultimately untrue.

Your bedroom was small;
4 walls,
But each of them wide enough
To grip me at your calling

I should've known when you
Didn't say hi to me at the party
It wasn't me... it wasn't us,
It was always you.

I should've known
Each I miss you wasn't an "i miss you,"
it was a you missed what I did for you

Your bedroom was dark each time
I laid in it,
In literature class they don't teach you
That foreshadows happens in real life,
In my living room, my mother never warned me about the boy who
Would hold me with no intention of
Making me his wife...y

I should've listened when you told me
You weren't ready,
I shouldn't have italicized and highlighted
Your excuses as acceptable
When all you wanted
Was for my endless desires to be quieted
Because to you a label was unacceptable.

I should've known that a
Second chance,
Shouldn't be granted
To boys who selfishly grasp
At my vulnerability
When it comes to romance

I should've never written poems
Asking myself what it was that
Made you deem me unworthy
I should've realized
After relapse 2 and 3 and 4
That your words would always be
Untrustworthy.

Your bedroom is small,
It can no longer hold me,
Its walls thinned out.
Perhaps my dreams are too wide
Or perhaps I've finally
Found my pride.

His sheets are now marked
As her territory,
A territory that'll only be conquered
For the night.

In the morning,
There will be fussing because
When the sun rises, so do the questions
Of Reality;
The statements of cynicism and lies.

She'll try to maintain her place.. With
His body on hers,
Not an inch seen of personal space;
Ready to claim what is now hers
As His.

Her justifications
Her pleading eyes
Her lips drenched with temptation
His mind racing wanting to get the deed
Signed in the upmost speed of time
Her hesitation warming her up all the more
But he doesn't care because he's
Conquered and reconquered
Many bodies of land before.

I can't look at the sky
I can't stare at the waves
Is happiness being by your side though
Knowing that i'll be gone in the morning
This love continuing to be unsaved

I want my eyes to forget your
Existence
I want my heart to forget
That I hadn't felt this whole
Ever since.

My lips can meet new ones
I can touch other faces
I can feel the enchanting heat of the sun,
But the thoughts of you remain
Without waste.

You remain
In fragments of my life
Even if it comes with a side of pain

The sky used to keep me sane
Until it's inconsistent patterns
Screamed your name

The waves used to be my muse
Until its source of joy in my life
Reminded me that in yours
I am not and am only of
Temporary use.

bring me in
brutal honesty
I want to feel you fingertips
all over me and under me.

make my hair come undone,
true intentions
my clothes all on your ground.

breathless
and mesmerized
I want small things about you
to become big things in this world of mine.

the way you taste
and the sounds you bring forth,
it won't go unremembered the reason
we're here for.

You opened your sun roof,
It'd been hours
Your arm around me,
No man-made move.

We started at the stars,
You let out your thoughts
And I couldn't believe who you'd become,
Who you are.

You'll never be mine,
I will never be yours
But in that moment
I wanted a little more.

As time progressed
And the stars dimmed
I laid my seat back
And let you do the rest.

The music playing
Got lower
And as your lips found mine
I'd forgotten everything we'd been saying.
Time had paused,
We were back to that time when we were
Kids
and the stars soared.

No truth in the air,
Your hands on my hips
No internal despair.

18, 19.
The stars are out
And the boy I once saw,
Once wanted
Is finally seen.

But the sun will come up,
And the sun roof will close
And time will resume
And we will never again be as close.

Your hands grasp but can't hold,
As I continuously cling on to any shred of hope
Despite what I'm told.

Your frequent departure
Has become routine,
When you board your flight,
I remind myself that it can't possibly be me.

My hands grasp, and they reach
Toward your place, your things,
and some type of consistency.

What a thing it would be
If someone kept track
Of the times I've felt in need.

What a thing it would be
If I could remind myself
that the only person I need is me.

Because your hands can't seem
To recognize me,
Even if I'm inches away
In your bed,
Yards away from a light's beam.

Your hands grasp but they can't hold.
Even when my hands is in yours,
It doesn't change the way our story unfolds.

The readers must be getting bored,
Because each chapter ends the same,
Each chapter beings with your same
Lead being the one I follow and go toward.

But no, the angle must change,
I need not your lies, or broken promise,
I need not the pain.

But we know how the story goes,
You'll be back in a few mornings,
And the redundancy continues to unfold.

Because my hands they can hold on,
They can hold on and on and on.

Every month
I am reminded of my fertility.
And while I feel physical pain,
I realize that of my emotions is
In the same vicinity.

I want my unborn child to know
That this life... Is like a funny show.
That while I'm unsure of what
She'll look like or he'll look like,
They come automatically into
A world that beyond their control
Will feel warlike.

That their future friends who bear
A darker skin complexion
Unfairly face the utmost rejection.
That their future friends
Who love the same gender
Get judged on their decisions
On who they love and if they happen
To be transgender.

But I want my child to know,
That this judgement and hate
Will always be up for debate
That when she finds her voice
Or when he finds her voice
It's to be shared with those
Without one because of personal choice.

I want my child to know that their pride
Is to be extended, wide, and
As far is it can go.
That when they witness injustice
They'll be expected to instinctually say no.
That these differences America
Still can't accept
Are the differences that
Bring beauty in every corner
And every aspect.

My children will know of the people
Who have bloomed in the midst
Of hatred and doom,
That the grass is not always greener
And that just when they thought they've Seen it all,
There will always be people who are meaner.
But I want my children to know of love,
Unconditional love,
Of acceptance,
Of hope,
Of being anti-weapon.
I want my children to bloom,
Because as their mother was expected to,
She faced the challenge of doing so,
In a world that depicted doom.