Will you kiss my scars?
Will you love my rot and decay too?
Crystallize me in all that’s unnatural and unpleasant.
Frame me in my ugly.
Be there when I see no light but only beckoning hands into the darkness.
Cut me your hand to hold instead of trimming the edges of my sanity.
Starve yourself with me. Starve yourself of me.
Taste me when I’m solely iron in your body,
trickling down your nose to remind you I'm there.
Feed me sugar cubes to keep the flies warm.
Wean me off the good stuff until I shame you for sharing.
Won’t you keep me sated?
Won’t you blanket your daisies in my mouth?
But what about the moths?
What about the maggots and, oh, what about the monkeys that tease you to let me go?
Let the dead go. Let her go, they say.
You won’t kiss my scars again if you knew I was dead.
Decaying won and I still love you!
I still love you.
I still love you.
How can’t I?
You loved me enough to care for the rot.

dear everyone,
i wanted to say,
that you never believed in me,
never wanted me,
you never really got me.

dear everyone,
maybe it's not what makes a person,
but how they are represented,
how people speak of them,
you all resisted to say nice things.

dear everyone,
it's time,
to think about all that you have done,
to know who was the one that called you out,
to see the truth about the person you hate,
it's time to realize.

dear everyone,
thank you,
for making it all easy,
for making my heart happy,
for making everything so complete,
for just being you.

i glow more than i can breathe.
i wait for something to occur beneath my feet.
if only there was more,
if only there was time,
if only..
i wasn't stuck in a neverending rhyme.

before beaches were entombed with sand,
before oceans were a home to riches,
i stood tall among others.
i knew where i was going.
i felt a very warm new day.
if only there was more time.
if only allies could build up these lies.
if only..

we are not but a species.
we are a family brought by love and hate.
we are not nonexistent.
we are loved but ignored.
we catch those who want to be caught.
we believe in those who want to be saved.
however,
if only there was hope.

i am fourteen years old.
i am not who i am by manifestation.
i am brewed by those who know me,
those who love me, those who knew me.

i am not big enough.
i am not listened enough.
but i know i am smart enough.
strong enough.
ready enough.
i belong.

yes, i am but of fourteen years of age.
but i do not forget that i am shaped by many mouths.
many ears, many noses, and many hands.

i keep up with those of elder.
i am a keeper of secrets and lies and betrayals of manipulation.
i do not doubt my own antics and anticipations.

my spirit and my soul are not purified.
however,
my heart is shared within all.
a bit, by bit to those of others.
and a little something extra to whoever wants it.

i am only fourteen years of age.
and i am a volume of blessings, blood, and beliefs,
more than i am a person

how many voices?
how many screams?
will it take for you to not ignore me?

how long will i have to stay alive?
how long will i have to fake being happy?
how long until you notice i wasn't there?

maybe time is just a illusion,
an imaginary concept we tell ourself we are wasting,
and definitely not gaining.

i wonder why things are how they are,
before falling,
and falling,
into something that seems so dark,
i can't barely breathe.

perhaps opening my eyes would be helpful,
but they are shut.
and i feel dirt,
all around me.

am i dead?
am i nothing but of bones and rotting flesh?
am i just gone?

that can't be.
i can't just go,
without saying my worth.

but i can't.
because,
that wouldn't be true.