Long ago, the night you resurrected me.
I was dead for not that long.
You were pressing on my chest and using your breaths to bring me back. When I came back to life:
I kissed you and you kissed back.
You cuddled with me the rest of the night. Then left in the morning.

When I loss my best friend at 15 years old, 6 months later I attempted suicide. I felt as though no one else could fix me or even fill the spiritual hole in my heart.
As if no one could understand the pain I felt.
As if the aching grief pounding at my heart was going to swallow me whole.
My family members were asleep and I had a pocket knife out.
I kept staring at my wrist but I couldn't do it.
It was like my best friend held my wrist and I thought about all of the good people in my life. So I placed the pocket knife away and turned out my bedroom lights. Then I cried myself asleep.

Sometimes I am a hero and other times I am a villain.
The stories change from person to person.
I embrace my madness and my flaws.
Look me in the eyes, what do you see?
I am insane and I am okay with that. Other people aren't okay with my insanity. I can't cure my insanity. It's simply there lurking and waiting for me to feel insecure.
Look me in the eyes, do I seem like the person to manipulate anyone?
Let me answer that for you no I don't use people that's boring and evil. People use me not the other way around.

As Lewis Carroll puts Insanity, "You're entirely bonkers. But I will tell you a secret. All the best people are."- Alice in Wonderland
I know comparing myself to Alice Kingsley is very cliche'. But this is how I imagine myself on the crazy scale. I create worlds to escape reality and Alice always dreamt of a world where escaping reality to embrace her insanity is her muchness. As they say in the Flash, "I have always believed in the impossible. Then I became the impossible." I know those are two different stories. You can't compare a mad woman to the fastest man alive. Well it's creative rights so technically I can. Doing insane things is impossible. Being insane is perpetually making your own reality to fit the stories you hear about yourself. Insanity is allowing yourself to be who you are without questioning what you are. Being the first person to point out someone's reality without making yourself an **** is an art form. The strongest form any human can craft in. Insanity is doing something so crazy that no one believes you can do it until it happen then you are branded a genius.

The Desire to kiss her.
The Desire to know her.
The Desire to be with her.
The Desire to prove the world wrong show people what true love really is.
Love is without gender roles. Love without hidden agendas. Love without regard to ability. Love is about effort. Love is about being a dork to voice intentions. Love is about stepping outside the comfortable to do something idiotic for the purpose of selfless courage.
Love is like magic it always comes at a cost. Love isn't easy because if love was easy everyone would have it but they don't.
Love requires loyalty, your broken self, honesty, authenticity, good communication, vulnerability, accountability and the truth of your feelings.

Those dark blue eyes and her laughter make my days at work better.
I like how she tells me stories about her life.
I like how she glances at me and smiles.
I like how I feel around her.
I like how I can tell her anything.

Being called weird is an honor and a compliment.
I have been crazy and delusional before which I find to be part of my mental illnesses. Being bipolar and schizophrenic isn't an easy thing.
It's confusing. It's being overemotional and emotionless at the same time. It's being split into two personalities. It's being the empathetic friend and the stand offish alpha female of a group.
It's being analytical and warm while being close off and not trusting anyone. It's being thoughtful and not caring at all.
It's drowning in feelings and living in drought of feeling in the same day.

More family events today.
Family game night, last night.
Tiredness from last night sticking to me like a second skin.

I was lost in his darkness drowning in his manipulation.
I was lost because he was a hurting soul and I thought I could help little did I know that I would be trapped.
I was lost in his begging of me to be his best friend.
I was lost in the connection that he convinced me that we had.
I was lost in his calculating nature and beastly ways.
I was lost in his proving that we could be more than friends by spoiling me to make me forget how awful of a person he was.
I was lost to his constant wanting to control me.
I was lost to his blue green eyes and trying to get him into therapy.
I was lost to recommending self-help books to him.
I was lost to him blowing up my phone with texts and memes that I didn't care for.
I was lost to him as a narcissistic man because of my empathetic soul but I didn't lose everything.
I was lost but in the end I found myself because of that I am rebuilding my world.

I am not limited by my past because I am more me than I once was.
I am not limited by who I once was in my past. All of who I once are not me anymore. I am not shy anymore. I am not scared of who I am anymore. I am not passive about my life anymore.
I am not lonely anymore. I am not alone anymore. I am not a victim of abuse anymore. I am not the crazy lovesick girl anymore. I am not the misfit loner anymore.
I have good friends and a great family. I have people who understand and accept me for who I am. I know that I am not my mental illnesses but still me because I figured out how to be insane and me without losing who I am to the madness.

My mother always gave me childhood trauma that my father made up for. I always enjoyed wear boyish clothing. My mom had to force me into a dress when I was a kid. Where my mom gave me sad and angry memories, my dad would give me joyful and loving memories.
My mom and dad divorced when I was 7 years old. They would fight about my siblings and I. My dad always defended my sanity to my mom.
One of the things I heard when I was 7 years old my dad said to my mom, "You wanted to have her!" That's when I knew they were talking about me. My older sister was expensive sports wise. I was the expensive kid therapy wise. I had reading help in kindergarten. I had speech therapy from 1st grade to 3rd grade. I had physical therapy since I was in preschool to 5th grade. I had emotional therapy from middle school to college. I stopped one of my friends from erasing himself from the earth multiple times. Growing up friends I thought I could count on to stay around left me. Being abandoned by my old friends gave me trust issues. I still don't trust people easily. If you are going to drain my soul, take a piece of my heart then leave me. What was the point of getting emotionally invested in you?

I am not ashamed to be a bisexual poet.
Writing is freeing and therapeutic.
Poetry is home.

If I am being honest, I am good alone. I know what to expect.
I enjoy taking the time to write my poetry and reading the books in my room.
If I am being honest, I have never felt more free than I do right now. I have my work friends and my family.
If I am being honest, I don't know if I believe in: true love or God. I know true love exists but I am good alone. I don't know if God even cares about me.
If I am being honest, working at a thrift store isn't the same as working for a newspaper as a journalist. Maybe one day I can go back to college for journalism.

I have heard stories of who slept with who from being a band nerd.
I know who had conflicts with who because of my sensitive ears.
People in school fought for seats in honor band. Flutes and clarinets mostly. Most of them were spoiled rich kids who wanted a specific seat so they can look good on college transcripts. I don't blame them. Student Government is worth the determination, just lead.
                                        College is fun and a lot
                                           Of hard work. School
                                           may be for opportunistic
                                           smart ***** but as I learned
                                           high school to college.
                                           Intelligence may be one thing but cunning abilities come with a price. I was never popular so I don't know the cost. Knowing people from being an empath have perks unlike knowing people from following trends. I never followed the crowds, it seemed pointless and I was right. I was invited to the popular table several times but I never felt safe and loved by them. I guess they wanted my presence to represent my tribe but I will never betray them to the sharks. What is discussed at the nerd table stays there. I won't reveal other people's secrets because it's not my place. Integrity get you places. Creating an honor code between best friends even if it's unspoken is worth it. Volunteering work actually looks good on a resume. If you are a good person having morals will be worth being made fun of in school. Wearing glasses is worth being able to read things. Being a nerd is like being a limited edition book, everyone wants it but it's expensive to get.
We nerds enjoy quality time together and will make each other laugh genuinely until our stomachs hurt. Like any other human we just want to people make us feel less lonely.

My little sister grew up being my translator. I would be lost without her. I have always been quiet, soft spoken and sensitive.
People didn't understand why I was so shy. I had to repeat myself a lot which I hated.
My little sister went with me everywhere to be my voice. I have a voice of my own and I can speak for myself it just took me awhile to be confident. I would make snarky comments and my little sister would try to insult me which wouldn't work.
We would fight a lot as sisters do. Mom and dad would take my side in a heated argument. Mom and dad wanted my little sister to be just like me which is probably why my little sister was always so cranky.
I always wanted her to be herself as any good sister would want.

My mind blocks out the traumatizing memories of spending with him. My heart reminds me how there was no good times with him.
His love wasn't consistent. And every time he said he cared about me I knew it wasn't true.
What is left of me is my gentle touch and kind smile.
To him there was no good in the world. To him I was a deity no matter how many times I revealed my flaws. To him my mistakes were for mocking and who I fell for were illusions because they weren't him.
What is left of me is my dark humor and stubbornness.

I used to chat with you behind the staircase in the back of the old sanctuary in the church.
We used to used to pray together. Now we are adults and I hardly ever see you. I hardly ever get to talk to you.
I hardly even get to know how you are doing. You were a part of me and now I don't even trust you. Did your hubris take you away from me? Was your singing career more important than our friendship?
Why did you let your biphobia reject me for who I am? Did you ever really love and care for me? People change. How are you so childish?
Our Hiding Place is still Sacred to me. What about you?
You would be nothing without me and to think you were going to be my Dr. Watson. We have a wall between us. I took down all of mine.
Why don't you trust me? You with the picture perfect family.
You the poster child for praise band. We used to be unstoppable and now we don't even know what to talk about. I tore away your mask and you are a monster behind those beautiful green eyes.
You who don't understand humanity. You weren't ever really weird to begin with you only said that to get close with me.
Your words used to mean something true and now all think about is how you betrayed me. I was a vulnerable 18 year old coming out to you and you chose to hate me. Now I never let you in because you damaged me.

You with your precious learning blue eyes and tan skin.
You regulate your blood sugar problem known as Type 1 Diabetes.
You are the new kid and an intelligent kid at work. You are the boss's pet. You try so hard to please everyone else it's adorable.
You are a good friend and a hard-worker.
We trade life stories and nobody cares what we talk about.
You aren't an idiot and I like that about you.

The Divide of you and me came gradually over the years.
You became a monster of your own making scarring me with trauma of you wanting to **** yourself when we got into fights, you obsessing over me and making me the reason for you to live.
This codependency I can't take it anymore.
I can't stand your sexist jokes, your pleading for us to be more than friends, you draining all of my mental energy, you thinking your better than everyone else and you repeatedly ignoring the fact that I would never be happy with you. I am one of the rare good humans.
I remember you being a sweet boy with bluish green eyes and now you are a shell of a man pining for me, a woman that will never love you the way you want me to.

Hiding in Plain Sight, yet no one at church can see the real me, all they see is my faith and that is all there is to them.
Hiding in Plain Sight, yet they don't the blue, purple and pink of the true colors of my heart and I know there is more to life than just faith.
Hiding in Plain Sight, yet I bite my tongue thinking I will slip up and tell them I am not straight. When I know that if I did tell them I am not straight they would rebuke me for being me.
Hiding in Plain Sight, I am proud to be bisexual. Yet when I look around at the church I was raised in, I know I would lose all my church friends.
Hiding in Plain Sight, yet none of them see me.

When people compliment me, I think, "What the hell do I do with this? Do I hug them? Do I smile? What if they are a stranger I don't touch strangers."
When people flirt with me, I think, "Make a joke they might laugh. Okay that was stupid. Do something else."
When people talk to me, I think, "Okay socialization! Where did those words come from? What was that? Who is this again? Name...name, come on I need a name! If I say you then it will be too generalized. If I make a snarky comment will they hate me?"
When I sing, I think, "What will people think of me? How do I sound? Wow, that was good. Can I do it again?"

The whoosh of going down snowy slopes.
Walking back up the snowy ***** out of breath.
Fresh wind pumping my veins.
Coughing out the fresh wind at the bottom of the *****.
Almost too much wind pumping through my veins.
Freedom and being alive at the whoosh going down the snowy slopes.

I may be alone but I am not lonely.
I have a wonderful army to hangout with me, allies who respect my boundaries and enemies who refuse to challenge me.
I may be alone but I am not lonely.
I write to make sense of my galaxies. I think to make sense of reality. I know to defend myself. I am not lonely. I used to be but I am not anymore. Losing my mind with meds just tells me that I am stronger than what my doctor says I am. I was never weak to begin with. I used to pretend to be meek and stupid. I took off that mask a long time ago. I am undefeated so why do I keep sharpening my wits?
Am I bored? Maybe. Do I care? No.

Thinking in Stanzas, the mere thought or to continue in thought is how the poem is.
Thoughts of poems and creations of poems. For we are not greater than the Great Poets and Poetesses before us.
For we are modern poets of this technology and of this age.
Thinking in Stanzas, to think a dear thought is to develop a poem. For thoughts are how poems are made. Let the thoughts be great of love, death or desire. For great love is how poems of love are made from.
For great death is how sorrow is not void within each poem about death.

I have anxiety, depression, bipolar disorder and schizophrenia.
I am medicated and I have good doctors taking care of me.
There is No Cure, Just Mindset.
I used to be consumed by anxious and depressive thoughts to the point I was hurting myself with my own expectations of people.
People looked at how weird I was and abandoned me after a brief season of friendship.
They turned out to be popular, normal people who forgot about our brief season of friendship. Because people like that will never understand people like me.
My mindset is too set in psychology, sociology and philosophy for normal people to understand a word I say.
Sometimes it is nonsense to them and wisdom to me.
I grew to know many things either from experience or books.
I am not normal and I never will be normal.
Normal is an overrated expectation that society puts on children of the past, the present and the future.

Shower to wash away my dark thoughts.
Letting the waters drench me.
Shower to clean me of sweatiness from walking around town.
Shower to stop thinking of the past.

One roof, lots of rules. Several rooms so many mental triggers.
Outside the house is freedom and laws. No one to watch every move.
It's Your Life Now Live, Our siblings are living lives separate from mom's grasp on our futures. We can escape every now and then.
It's Your Life Now Live, I know her rules are strict but someday will get out of this town. Whoever you become just let me support whatever you do. I am your big sister so I don't care what mom says you are amazing to me. As long as you are reasonable with you become I will do everything in my power to protect you.
It's Your Life Now Live, We are both creative so let's make the most of it. Don't get high too often. I will notice. Mom won't.
My little sister, I love you. There I said it. I don't say it often enough. I looked after you all of these years. Sure no one understands in our family why we chose our passions except our older brother. Being weird have perks.

Mind spinning
The dizziness of wanting to *****
Whole body feeling numb
Heart racing
Shallow breaths
Lungs in pain

Here's to Love that one day I will someday find my true love in a forever.
Here's to Love that one day I will have more friends that I trust and stay by my side.
Here's to Love that one day I won't be alone anymore.
Here's to Love that one day I won't be trapped in someone else's world ever again.
Here's to Love in hopes that I won't be lost ever again.
Here's to Love that one day I will listen to my instincts and learn to walk away at the first red flag.
Here's to Love that one day things will change.

She has sky blue eyes, dark pink lips, blonde hair, pale skin and freckles all across her face.
She was wearing a white dress with blue flowers on it. Practically emphasizing the blueness of her eyes.
I didn't catch her name but she is the new girl at Four Seasons.
Our hands touched briefly as I gave her my debit card to pay for my new clothes. For a moment I didn't want to go anywhere. She has a calming presence and a wonderful smile.

I know most conversation shouldn't involve religion, politics, money and death. But I can't help wanting to bring up religion, politics and death. They are interesting subjects! Life is what everyone talks about. Money isn't a conversation starter. Too many people are afraid of death. It's inevitable. Why not talk about something that going to happen anyways? Politics get juicy and hot, people eat it up all of time. Religion is starched collars, civilized talks and prayer chains. I read too much for the average human. I read people's moods by body movements, journal articles when I am bored, books of all kinds and sometimes newspapers. Sometimes it seems like people don't read at all. Conspiracy theories aren't going to make up for the real facts and truths. Joining a pseudo-cult isn't going to change the actual events of things. The Democrats didn't cause anything. The Republicans didn't cause anything. They just want people to blame for their societal problems. What are your resources for your point of view? Are you really that self absorbed to not listen to someone's point of view? I listen to both sides of the story so I end up on the right side of history.
Do you listen to yourself? Will you care about someone else who isn't you? Or is your opinion enough in your own eyes?

Mom thinks I am lazy and unobservant though if she ever listened to the parents around her, she would know that I have a strong work ethic and is very observant. Mom used to call me a worthless kid when she thought I was asleep. I stayed up those nights thinking of ways to make my mom proud turns out nothing creative I did made her proud. Only when I got awards from cross country about me being the heart and soul of the team or a certificate for having a good GPA in high school my senior year and perfect attendance. Otherwise I never felt loved and validated by my mother. I lived in the shadows of my older siblings. Perfect at sports, perfect at school, and always hanging around a crowd somewhere. No matter how many times people would tell me how great of a friend I am or how smart I am it's hard for me to believe them. I had my small group of best friends that trusted with my life and I still do. I don't care about what people say of me. You can't criticize my life when you have never lived it.
What Everyone Says about me depends on who you were. I got used to living in the shadows of my older siblings and forged my own path. Watch me become someone great, I dare you.

The Church I Don't Belong In because if they knew I am bisexual I would be a martyr.
The Church I Don't Belong In I volunteer for events for my church all the time but I feel I don't belong in my church.
The Church I Don't Belong In, sure I was raised in that church but I am not straight as they all expect me to be. Because if they knew that I am bisexual they would look at me differently.
The Church I Don't Belong In, sure they are my friends but they don't know the real me. I have ex-girlfriends which would shock many of my church friends.

The endless, light blue sky holds humanity underneath like cold blanket.
Of winter morn, people going to business meetings, people still buying Christmas presents and waiting for the end of the year.
The endless, light blue sky for one I am seeing today, you are seeing too.
The endless, light blue sky of winter morn, where ice is like glass and snow crunches under foot.

"There is an infinity between 0 and 1" - The Fault in Our Stars
To say that people are complex and weird but to say that fate is what draws us together is another. To be weird and complex is to have simple standards of good and boundaries set. To have fate known is to believe that Universe actually cares.
"Pain it demands to be felt" - The Fault in Our Stars
I love realistic romances because love at first sight is crap and anyone who says otherwise is kicking themselves into submission.
Perfection is unrealistic. The white picket fence is unrealistic.
Finding true love is about trial and error. It's trust, compassion, unrelenting forgiveness, grace, mercy and kindness placed into a forever friendship. Sure I am melancholy about love because I know what kind of person I am looking for but haven't found my true love yet.

It was you and me; now it is only me.
It was you and me, I hope he loves you right.
It was you and me; we were together for a month and a half.
It was you and me; our nights at my house were amazing.
It was you and me; I am glad you moved on and we are just friends.
It was you and me; I am glad neither of us regret what we had.

The awakening deliciousness. The caffeine rolling down my throat.
Milky galaxies swirling, cooling down the steaming brown liquid.
Oh how the brown hues call forth my mind to awake.
The brown liquid I take every morning to handle my mother, in the afternoon to handle work and at night to handle my mental triggers.
In a way it's my drug that manages to bring me back to happiness.
To understand humans so well I need the dark brown liquid.
Coffee isn't alcohol. I know that much. I prefer the bittersweet twang of the Coffee or the buzz of the alcohol. For most humans it's the other way around. I don't understand most humans. Hence being a nerdy rebel. I don't need alcohol to survive my mother, work nor my mental triggers. I just need the Coffee to handle all that. Scientifically, Coffee is a mood stabilizer with mood swings it's the perfect drug and it doesn't need an ID to get nor a doctor's approval.

My life is bittersweet like coffee.
I have a lot of good memories and a lot of bad memories.
I loss my most of my grandparents when I was younger.
I loss my best friend when I was 15 years old.
I got into an emotionally abusive friendship at 18 years old.
It took 4 years for me to build the courage to get out of that emotionally abusive friendship.
When I loss my best friend I was afraid to love again because the grief swallowed me whole. I didn't think I could bounce back from that but I did because I expressed and spoke about my emotions openly.
When I got into that emotionally abusive friendship I felt trapped as though no one could understand. That traumatic bond I had with my ex boyfriend wasn't worth how awful he treated me. That traumatic bond wasn't worth how unhappy I was with him.
I didn't think I could recover from that but I did.
When I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder and schizophrenia at 20 years old because of my psychosis I didn't think I could get back to myself but I did.
Life Considered it is pretty good. I experienced a lot through out the years and I am still me.

It was 3 years ago. It was a night of passion.
My lips collided with hers and the world slipped away.
Ripping off each other's clothes.
Loving gazes and joyous smiles. Skin again skin. Soul against soul.
Every kiss in effortless abandonment of what is and what was.
That Night with Her was the best night of my life.

To be a vengeful angel the story of you changes a lot telling to telling.
Hero in one story and Villain in the next. Haters and admirers galore.
I am used to the rumors and the gossip about myself. I am a legend and a myth in my small town. Popular girls wish they were half as weird as me and popular boys wish they had dated me.
I may be the sweet, quiet girl in most tales. But in other tales I am the fierce, relentless genius girl who is three steps ahead of the crowd. I will tell you as a reader some of the tales are true but it depends on who you ask. I had several nemesises over the years growing up. I also had several loyal best friends growing up. I had both the bitter and the sweet. I am still human. I am no demigod. I am just a vengeful angel with a sword as sharp as my wits. Safe to say if you cross me you won't forget where you land.

Growing up I remember in high school I was always single.
Valentine's Day is always a big thing in my small town.
But me being single in high school I didn't have anyone.
There was singing telegrams or crush soda can given to your crush.
But I never received a singing telegram or a crush soda.
Nobody had a crush on me well except my friend Ken.
Our senior year on Valentine's Day, he gave me a rose then we went to Sunrise Cafe as friends.
It wasn't until after I dropped out college he and I would go to romantic places as friends. He kept begging for us to be more than friends again. Then he would propose to me over text messages but I refused. He made me a last resort whenever a girl blocked him on the internet or didn't like him on a date. Simply because I would pick our hangout spots. He just wasn't romantic and his proposals weren't sincere. He just didn't want to be alone. And I refuse to be anyone's last resort. Even when he did make me a priority I could tell it was out of his loneliness, he wanted me not out of a sincere romantic notion of he thinks that I am important to him.
That's the difference between him and I: when I am romantic, I am sincere while he loved out of sense of misery. Then again our friendship ended because he was emotionally draining and he wasn't spontaneous or sincere. Sometimes two people who are total opposites shouldn't attract.

I am saying goodbye to you in a gift. I will set you free. I am cutting the cord of this toxic connection. Your darkness and bitterness don't belong in my sweetness and light. Where I grow, you wither.
Where you see a forever, I see how doomed this friendship was from the beginning. Your emotional abuse, your mentally draining soul don't belong next to my kind, brave soul. I don't need you because I never did in the first place. You just convinced me that I did. I have a loving, dysfunctional family and amazing friends.
I don't need you degrading my little sister. I don't need you sexually harassing me. I don't need you begging for us to be more than friends. I don't need you depressing me with your trauma. I can't heal you and I can't help so you are hopeless.
So I am going to start the New Year off right by having my hope back.

I saw her at Goodwill yesterday while I was working.
She smiled at me and I smiled back.
I felt butterflies in my stomach all over again and I felt the old flame rising up in my heart as I gazed at her beauty.
But we aren't getting back together.
I regret nothing about our history together. In fact I am grateful that last year she was my girlfriend for a month and a half.
Even though she is my ex girlfriend I am glad I could I feel that all over again even if it was for a few seconds.

The conversations. The casual exchange of numbers.
The smiles and laughter. The shared glances.
Swapping stories and fun reactions.

Is the courage to love worth it?
Short answer, yes
If you were to ask how so?
Long answer, to love and be loved in return is the greatest thing in the world.
So the courage to love is absolutely worth it. Whether it's new love or old love starting anew. It is always worth it. Because she or he is worth it to you. Because to love is be selfless and love beyond yourself. So yes have the courage to love.
Love so much that you forget what other people are thinking.
Love beyond who you are and become someone amazing.
Because chances are you are amazing.

I watched you get undressed. It was a mission trip. You in your bra and *******. I wanted to kiss you. I wanted to take off the rest of the coverings and have my skin next to yours. I wanted everyone to know in some way that you were mine. I would have made myself a fool because two best friends who are Christian girls aren't supposed to do that. But I just stared at your smooth skin as long as I could.
I wanted to take your hand in my hand then proceed to call you babe. But you had to be a straight girl and fall for the guy in the praise band who played guitar. Typical. Just typical. You guys broke up in high school. You guys were my best friends. You two were unstoppable heroes. Now neither of you two talk to each other. Your parents won't even talk to each other. What kind of love was so bad even if it ended mutually that none of you two will talk about it? I know it's a Christian town but what the actual **** is wrong with you two? I may not be straight but I declare you two *******.

The Taste of ***** burns the throat.
The Taste of ***** mixed with soda is a luxury.
Sure it's strong but so am I. I can't get drunk off of it because my metabolism is too fast.
The Taste of ***** it's gives a buzz.
The Taste of ***** it's not liquid courage just another high compared to my mood swings.
Sure it's one of the things normal people get drunk off of, good for them. Try having natural happy high then crashing into sadness lake. It *****. It feels like being Icarus.

The Girl with Green Eyes never once stopped the rumors and gossip about me.
The Girl with Green Eyes never once defended my honor when I wasn't around.
The Girl with Green Eyes isn't a best friend at all and she isn't even an ally to me in my personal wars anymore because I don't trust her.
The Girl with Green Eyes was a fluke on my judgement and I don't know how I could that she was always ordinary.
The Girl with Green Eyes deserves her loneliness and her crowds because she never deserved my love nor friendship.
The Girl with Green Eyes isn't human because demons like her deserve to burn in hell.
She will forever be haunted by my poetry because I don't care anymore about what she thinks of me.
This vengeful angel have stories of truths to tell and that demon or siren whatever she is won't ever hold me back.

I fell in love with her in college, he wanted to control me with every ounce of his monster-like charm.
She gave me a wild love to fight for, he destroyed my confidence and mocked me for it.
I wanted to escape his hopeless grasp, she gave me a new beginning.
I felt stuck between two worlds. One giving something to live for and the other drowning me in my own depression.
I was leading people with my light and couldn't pull myself out of his perverted sense of reality. The more I faded from him the more he held on tight to what was left. I knew there was nothing left and I stayed out of obligation.

It seems as though I am constantly go through a revolving door.
One moment I am on the inside, at peace.
The next moment I am on the outside, thrown into the wild.
I feel dizzy, euphoric and new.
With a new sense of strength and confidence.
I metaphorically gaze at myself in the glass and I see what I can be.
I can see the struggle within myself but I also see the relief of not conforming to the gender binary.
I am still getting used to being gender fluid because some days it feels as if I have fallen from sky, crashing into a new challenge.
But I enjoy the thrill of it because not every day is the same.