The first person we love,
is often the person that
shows us pain.

The way you love
shows you've been
taken for granted
one too many times.

"I hate liars."

"But I love you."

You had my forever
tucked in your back pocket,
waiting for the right
time to play it.

You left me with
words I can't remember
and memories I wish
to forget.

Nothing will wake me
as well as your hand
in between my thighs.

We too,
live and shrivel
like all beautiful flowers.

I became exposed
the moment we met,

though I still encourage
you to undress me.

Tell me why you
planted each flower
on your wrist so
I know where not
to stomp.

How do you think
he learned to touch
you like that, darling?

He didn't learn
that himself.

I have notebooks soaking
up my emotions-
Hoping,
no one see's the flood.

She was used to people
taking advantage of her.
Her mind and emotions
became dark.

A boy came along
and shed some light
through the darkness.

Her anger dissolved
into calm.
For the first time,
she tasted sweetness
and serenity.

I learned I didn't need you.
Because I have everything now,
and you are nowhere
to be found.

I poured my heart out to you.

But everything just seeped through the holes-

Hidden by a consoling smile.

I will live forever
in the ink of a pen
and a letter on a page.

You breathe in light
and exhale glitter-
Everything you touch
becomes magic.

You're prettiest when
your lips aren't bleeding
with words.

You touched my heart
and made it your new
home.

You spoke,
and my soul spilled
all over the floor.

Trying to prove yourself
to someone that doesn't
deserve you is a lose-lose.

They will never notice
and you're giving pieces
of yourself to someone
who only loves their
reflection.

We talk
and the
stars listen.

I wish nothing but
the best for you.
But I'm glad I wasn't
the best for you.

My hair matched your eyes,
and I grew tired of the color.
So I made my hair red-
To match my lips,
and the love I gave to another.

She gave herself to
a thief
disguised as
as prince.

Did you leave because
I was too much to handle?

Did I toss you too many
***** to juggle?

I would follow you to
every city.
And write a poem
about you in each one.
Soon enough,
these will all just
be memories,
a book filled with a ton.

I gave myself to you.
I was yours even when I wasn’t.

"Poetry is dead."

Then why are we here?

I will die,
and so will you.
So love me while
we have time.

Your sun-kissed hair
matches the gold rays
and you wonder why
I'm amazed by you.

Loving the wrong person
can be poisonous.
And I drank every drop.

All you were to me,
was a passing face
on my journey to
self-discovery.

I am doing the dishes.
I see the mess but don’t feel motivated and add it to the mental list of things that need to get done, even though I feel heavy.
I have Friends on autoplay but I’m getting up every 20 minutes to finish a task that I had already started but became exhausted a partial way through.
The dishes are never ending and the trash is piling up but I’m not being lazy.
This isn’t lazy.
I’m doing these tasks in small increments because I become tired a quarter of the way through and just want to lie in bed and cut out my problems and mess of a brain.
And then you tell me that I don’t do anything either so it’s my fault too but what I’m begging you to see is that I’m trying. I’m trying to do the dishes but my body has been asleep for 3 months and I’m constantly trying to fight to wake up and be a person.
But it needs to get done.
So I will do it in increments.
I will get it done.
I’m doing the dishes.

Today isn’t the hardest day.
It’s next week-
When the phone calls and texts stop.
When no one checks in.
When the house is quiet.
And you’re by yourself.