I am not me, I am the monster inside me
My words are fake, my eyes don't see straight,
I am the criminal and the crime.

Today I was beaten and broken
and someone revealed me beneath it all

I am trying so hard to stand in the ashes,
but there are more on my back,
I'm burning perpetually
in the ashes of my own burnt skin

Standing up here, I'm so close to the sunlight
closer than I've been in a year
I'm so anxious to see it, but I can't jump
and if I look up the ash gets in my eyes

I have to keep trying
I fall

I need to ask for help
I need a hand up
but a monster doesn't help and doesn't ask for help,
and that's what I am.

I meant everything I said,
and I still think you're amazing
You intrigue me like a single rose,
appeal to my senses and curiosity
I feel so close to you, and
so unsure of what is going
on in your beautiful mind.
I want to listen to you talk
and watch your hands.
Everything you do is unique;
you create another world
Your fleeting smile is the greatest gift
... and your touch...
Kissing you is perfect and innocent
Safe, like this bed and these
walls and this roof
Hold me; I want to
pretend that you feel the same way
and forget how I hate myself
and hate my body
This tear is for a happy moment
I had
It was with you, and
well, thanks.

You're stronger, maybe, but stubborn
like me
It's not always a good thing.
All I get from you is a
coldness that radiates like I thought
only heat and love could.
I couldn't forget those, either, in
case you were wondering.
I'm not angry, but you have enough anger
for the three of us.
If I touch you, I think you
might sink your teeth into my scalp.
So I'm keeping some distance.
Maybe if you recognized me you'd
stop growling
I though you wouldn't let this
skin hide a familiar heart, but
It's not the first time I've been wrong.

He has a heart that
is pure
despite that day long ago
when his light was stolen
his heart broken
his reason for being gone,
leaving a hole in
his soul

He'll still eat dinner at eight
and cry into the late
hours of night

He was there when
her body fell.

This is the pattern I see behind
my eyelids
and when I look at a leaf
or perhaps just the ocean from afar
It's in my reflection, looking up at me from
the rippling water
It's in the veins of my hands, which I
don't know so well
It changes like the moon day by day,
but the cycle repeats.
It's a song; music; perfect
It's in my head, clear like bells, and
then I'll lose it in a moment.
I can follow it but never recreate it.
It's everywhere. It's the taste I feel in my pores.

Sometimes I'm lost or afraid and I think
I forget it's there.
I lose the pattern; I close my eyes and
see nothing.
I disconnect.

This is you, and the pattern in your eyes,
and the energy in your gaze,
connecting me to the world.
There's a song in my head again, clear like bells,
like music; perfect
found in a moment, in a gaze, in a touch,
in a smile, in everything
I remember it's okay.

so natural
to laugh the way we do.
so right to
look at your face,
imagine what it would be
like to touch,
imagine you close your eyes
and breathe softly,
and me, asleep beside you.
Why should I turn away?

sometimes wish you knew,
sometimes know you already do.
guess you don't say anything
because nothing can happen, but
I know that's not true.

moments, seconds, minutes
listening to your laugh ring
in my head
and feeling your breath on my neck
being happy
because I smiled
because you smiled
because I can imagine
your fingers in mine, and
the smell of your collarbone.

Kisses are only kisses;
wishing for tendernesses
and soft caresses in the light of
the moon

to wish the way i do
get lost in laughing with you
the way we always do,
so natural.

I saw a leaf on the ground
stepped on, dry, cracked
and I felt sorry
But still it floated when the wind came up.

I saw the broken egg on the ground
below the nest
and I felt sorry
But still the others learned to fly.

I saw the ice cream on the ground
the child crying
and I felt sorry
But children are amazing; they don't stay sad.

In the middle of the desert
there is nobody
it is flat and barren, and the wind
stings with sand.
But still the cactus sings.