To pursue love to find what is true is selfless devotion to one person for a lifetime. People nowadays don't believe in once in a lifetime love anymore because it's a fairytale to them.
To pursue love is saying the truth of the heart's desires and hoping the other person equally wants the same thing.
To pursue love is to go beyond kissing and handholding to writing letters even if you live in the same house together.
To pursue love is talk about someone as if they are the whole world and hope that you are their moon.
To pursue love is to act like an idiot no matter how many times you rehearse every word you are going to say.
To pursue love is to remember the small things are the big things.
To pursue love is present an idea so new to both of you that considering the future is a must.
To pursue love is be without lust because selfishness should have nothing to do with either of you.

When I got my wisdom teeth out I was put on strong pain meds and my feelings became 20 times intense than before.
I felt lonely so I grabbed onto the future I wanted without hesitation, I was in college. I felt like an outcast in SGA because I had to explain myself so often. I thought I would be bullied like I was in middle school because of my mental disabilities. I wasn't because even though they were popular, rich kids and I was the nerdy, poor kid who just there to have a voice in something. They respected that and loved who I was no matter how confusing my mind was at the time way back when.
I didn't know that making out with the SGA's secretary would spread like wildfire through my college and my hometown. Even though we were a power couple, we still had things to go through and people to meet. After all these years when I heard her love confession to me it was like my old feelings were stirring again and I picked up where I left off by being the endearing lover. Not the lovesick girl that she probably heard rumors about when she stalked me for a year.
I stayed in my hometown and she went back to her hometown.
I am starting my writing and singing career which is great. I mean have been for the last 15 years but now I am actually getting momentum. So glad the Art Man thinks I am talented.

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.

I am Trapped in Two Worlds. One World where people of the church think I am straight when I am not. Another World where the people of my work place know that I am openly bisexual and everyone in this town knows that I am openly bisexual.
Yet when I am at church I can't talk about ex-girlfriends and ex-boyfriends because to them I am straight... I am not. In that World, I keep my mouth shut and just blend in. In that World, I suffocate from being in the closet around them and the boredom of vanity through small talk because nothing ever changes in the church...
In the Other World, I am free to myself as an openly bisexual woman.
In the Other World, I don't have to care what anyone thinks of me because they know who I am... so do I.

Old, wise it stands
taking on the winter
adamantly with courage.
Brown and scarred on each limb enduring
winter's vigorous attacks.
Breath by Breath
faithfully holding onto the ground with strong, fierce roots
ever in peace hoping the cold winds don't come again.
That's a ridiculous thought the cold winds never cease to come back only for a moment the Earth stands still free of the cold, but the cold winds come back defiantly every time bringing winter storms along with it's brisk attitude. The tree may transcend the winter, but it still remembers all damage the winter ensues as spring enters in all it's warmth, and future growth to the tree's scorned figure.

You are a sexist *****, a *** obsessed lonely, insecure, fragile egotistical, ignorant, neglectful and friendless boy.
You may be one year older than me but you don't act like it. I am the mature, responsible angel while you are the reckless, self absorbed demon. You may say that I am complicated but I am the only friend you have left to care about you. You have mommy and daddy issues because you think that they don't love you when they are trying to save you from yourself. You try and woo me with half assed marriage proposals. You think that I am a guilty pleasure for you when really I will never sleep with you let alone date you. I am not your therapist anymore and you are a lost cause because there is nothing left to fix you. We lasted a week. A week. You can't ask someone to have kids with you and marry you on day 3. I am not stupid so don't act like I am. I have outsmarted you on wits and defeated you at relentlessness. Your suicide notes broke my heart every time yet you begged to control me. You are a man so stop thinking that you are entitled to my mind palace. There is no room for your drama. There is no room for your mental and emotional abuse. I am broken enough as it is. I can't marry a hopeless narcissist. Your tricks don't work on me. So stop giving a show because I have seen enough.

Trusting isn't easy for me. Every time I ever trusted someone I always got hurt. The few I do trust is only under the conditions that they won't fail me.
Trusting isn't easy for me. It takes longer for me to trust people because I don't want to have my heart broken again. I have had my heart broken more times by the people I trusted the most than the people who I once considered my enemies.
Trusting isn't easy for me. I don't like blending into the background. I enjoy being the weird one. I care about people unconditionally and without expecting anything in return because I don't want to be like my mother who have conditions for everything.
Trusting isn't easy for me. I don't care about what people think of me.
When I trust someone it's out of vulnerability not out of faith.
Faith can fade away, vulnerability doesn't. When you share your story it's out of vulnerability. I don't have faith in most people. I lost my faith in people when my best friend rejected me for being bisexual. I still talk to her but it's only out of us being music partners. I still want to write songs and create something amazing.

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?

Truthfully alive and free. I rest easier. Everything tastes crisper than before.
Hanging out with my friends I don't feel like I am carrying a cloud over my head. I don't feel dead on the inside anymore. I am glad that I kicked him out of the door.
Truthfully I had to me. Around him I was bitter, depressed and angry. It was like his darkness swallowed me whole and left me empty. Now that my light is back I am picking up the pieces of me that he broke.
Truthfully it was living in a nightmare. I don't have to be there anymore. I don't have to be around him anymore and that's what matters.
Truthfully I am better.

Truthfully my life from the outside seems tragic, heartbreaking and full of drama. Because it is. I had to face everything that scared me.
I am getting a new medication from my psychiatrist, don't know how I am going to react it but if it helps me get out of my house then I am open to the possibilities.
Truthfully I am still healing, still revealing my heart in songs, still thinking about everything that hurts and still processing.
Truthfully my instincts help me think. I wouldn't be me if I didn't have my protective instincts. My mom and my church sexually repressed me so that ******. I don't like feeling trapped or suppressed. So I think romantically and thoughtfully. I am old fashioned even for my age. I believe love needs to be felt and seen through actions because love without actions is just another feeling.
Truthfully I don't care about ***, status or death. Death never cared who it took away from me. Status always got me into trouble. *** is common knowledge in a small town because who you **** with is what most people care about.
Truthfully I don't think I am better than anyone else because I don't judge anyone. People's privacy rights are theirs. People's human rights are theirs. People's beliefs are theirs. If it's not mine then I respect it whatever it is.
Truthfully my past don't define me. I define me.

Truth to be known I am good. I am excited for my new hours.
Truth to be known each woman I loved made me better.
Truth to be known I don't regret anything.
Truth to be known my past makes me who I am.
Truth to be known I love my job and the people I work with.
Truth to be known I don't mind being called a ****** for who I love.

I grew up in my church. There are countless broken, sinful people who go to church. They are all the same. Rich people getting richer and poor people inheriting the kingdom of God.
I have heard all of the true stories of countless people from my family's perspectives.
Twisted People with twisted ideas go to church too. They bring good people's reputations down to dirt and lift themselves up as if it's their purpose. I don't envy rich, spoiled people because they live empty lives in comfort of their own fantasies.
Twisted People wrought within their own hells.

I am reading Two Different Books, one about schizophrenia and the other about bipolar disorder now that I am reaching the end of both books the advice sounds similar through different words.
I know that both give advice on how to always stick with the meds and therapy.
I know that both give advice on to keep insurance because mental health is expensive.
I know that both give advice on keeping notes about when to take meds and to write in a journal everyday.
Mental health is as important as physical health everyone should know that. If you don't then read a book about any mental illness you want in the nonfiction aisle because research is just as important as definitions. Knowing the meaning behind the words is just as important as knowing the symptoms.

I change the game so he can be confused.
I have mental strategies that make him vulnerable like compassion, empathy, loving and caring about him.
I have emotional strength that makes him feel as though I am complex when my needs are simple.
Friendship is basically good communication and socializing which are my thing. He doesn't even know how to have a good, deep conversation with a stranger.
When I am Unapologetically Myself, he have free will because it's in my instincts to be a good friend.

Normal people are ignorant, self-absorbed, controlled by society and lonely. I understand people far too well and sometimes I forget that I am human too. I may not be normal in any way shape or form but my empathy makes me feel beyond human in some ways.
I can read who someone is by their habits, in their actions and how they speak. Characteristics are easy to me because I am writer it's practically my job to observe everyone and everything with a curious point of view. Being mentally ill I gain wisdom through my experiences. I don't want to bottle up my emotions because that's unhealthy psychologically and mentally.

Ever changing life and waiting for the one.
Counting down the days 'til Thanksgiving.
To see my brother and his wife.
To get together with my family.

Considering I am writing a new chapter of my life. I enjoy the freedom from his world. I like this new me.
I can be whatever I want. So I am going to be me. Brave, kind, sweet, hopeful, intelligent and the girl worth remembering.
Sure I am damaged, rebellious, traumatized and full of scars yet being brokenhearted is why I shine so brightly.

I go to the coffee shop on my days off hoping I will meet the one but nothing.
I think I need to join a dating app. Maybe then I will meet the one.

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.

The church or my sanity.
I would prefer to keep my sanity.
The people I work with are like my family.
I am already distant from my church friends anyways.
I believe in Jesus, The Holy Spirit and God.
It's just if they can't accept that I am bisexual then they don't accept me. My work family accepts me and that's enough.

Dark blue sky and icy wind blowing against the library.
Silence as the sky turns a deeper shade of blue.
Listening to music and thinking about the Sweet Girl's smile.
And how the night sky looks like her eyes.

Light blue sky and icy wind blowing on the library.
People passing through and checking out books.

Coffee with so many flavors and don't know which to focus on.
My cat Jasmine loving me as always.
Waking up headache gone.
Now I have to find a present for my father.

From an angel's eyes to a poet's pen.
Poems are made.
Humble beginnings is where we all began.
Trapped in routines. Caught up in religious traditions.
Freed by making poetry.

Last night. I dreamt of you.
Last night. The white wine burned going down my throat.
Last night. I was wondering if you are okay.
Last night. My mind kept drifting back to you.
I kept thinking of your lips upon mine.
I kept thinking of your beautiful dark blue eyes and your smile.
I kept thinking about us.

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

Now I wait for Christmas and the one.
I wonder if I am going to be single forever.
I wonder when I will love the one.
I wonder who the one is.

Warm sun and the snow is melting.
Still frigid but with a warmth that is homely.
Even though my hometown never really felt like home to me until now because I have a job where they don't mind that I am openly bisexual.
My hometown don't mind that I am openly bi. Yet my church and my mom minds because to them it's different and what is different needs to be silenced.
It's like outside, warm from the sun but cold from the snow.

I used to carry such hatred for people way back when because I hated repressing my love for women.
I didn't realize the hate was eating me alive so when I met a queer person at youth group that hatred faded and I filled up with compassion.
I still didn't what queer was at the time but I had unconditional love for this queer person then I realized I am queer too when I was in high school, my senior year.
Then in college, one of my best friends told me what bisexuality is and I realized I am bisexual. Eventually I got over my internalized biphobia and the rest is history.

I dreamt about you last night.
And when I woke up to see you weren't here cuddling with me.
I felt alone. But I am okay.

I am used to being in role of victim. Having my energy ****** out of me by dark forces isn't fun.
Having my heart drained of love and warmth till there is nothing for me. Every shower I try to get rid of the feeling of awfulness that comes with being an empath. I want to care too much, love too much and be the imperfect me. I can't do that when parts of me that I enjoy caring for are exhausted, tainted and impure with emotions of others.
I can't function when I don't have all of my wits and strengths.
I can't function when I lose my mind.
I can't function when I am not all there.
I envy people who can socialize without feeling like you aren't enough for the crowds. I don't trust many and unconditionally love few. I am not perfect and I don't try to be perfect.

I was hanging out with my new friend today.
I saw a popular today who begging for information about me even though I was having a casual conservation with my new friend in Coffee Boy's coffee shop. If she actually hung out with me in high school she would still think that I am weird. I don't care about her since she is "that popular person" because "beauty is only skin deep" for them. I don't pay over 100 hundred dollars for my fashion sense. I would rather put my money towards books. "Knowledge is power" as much as "Ignorance is bliss" so, therefore; any knowledge I acquire from books is my power over ignorance. Anyone who messes with my friends expect a war of wits and knowledge. I protect my friends with my iron clad stubbornness. As I said before my friends enjoy helping people so they can handle themselves. Being nerd have it perks. Like an army of friends, being genuinely loved and valued, as well as having people who validate who you are as a person.
I may be vindictive but I know how to handle myself in this world.
Vindictive is My New Favorite Word. As you may say I am an everlasting vengeful angel.

Politics. People as huge crowds.
Paper and Pen.
Metaphors and Fights.
Human Rights Debates and Agriculture.
Voting is very politically charged.

When my nose bleeds my heart pounds, my ears echo, every noise is louder than before. I taste blood in the back of throat. Blood rushes at top speeds trying to get out of me.
                                     Drip
                                           Drop. I speak my truth and my soul feels free. My heart feels as though I released something I wasn't suppose to.
     Drip
           Drop. I write something worth revealing. Excitement cheering me on. Fear screaming at me to stop what I am doing. My heart pounding with mixed emotions.
               Drip
                    Drop.

In Fall it's thick jackets, warm mugs of coffee or hot cocoa, fuzzy blankets, red noses, chills of the unknown along the spine and reading folktales.
Waiting for the Cold because I binge read my to-be-read list when it's too cold to go outside. Sometimes I go outside anyways because the smell of crisp autumn leaves, the shiver of curiosity, the tingling of knowledge flowing through the mind and the joy of embracing the mood-swings.
Waiting for the Cold because being bipolar means having grief that makes you relive the past, reevaluating friendships, and getting caught up in past moments.

I wonder if you can feel my love from here.
Wandering Love for what would I be without you?
Pale, soft skin and warm lips.
Greenish blue eyes and dark brown hair.
A name I can't remember.
Her hand rubbing my bare chest.
Months ago. Just a fling, nothing else.

Queer is the old time slang for weird and gay is the old time slang for happy. There is nothing wrong with being weird and happy.
The best people I know are queer and gay.
Gay is still used an insult that straight people use to describe events that they didn't like. Queer is what straight people use as their slang to out a weird, flamboyant person. Straight people are strange they think everything is a competition, everything is a way to insult their spouse by gossip and not communicating to each other their insecurities. I know gay and queer people who will compliment, praise and lift up their spouse and close friends as though it's their first instinct. I love being part of a community that will embrace how flamboyant and bizarre they are. I know I analyzed both sides of the spectrum. I do that when I am bored.

What am I mad with? For if I am mad with love. Who is it for?
What am I mad with? For if I am mad with desire. Why is it swallowing me whole?
What am I mad with? For if I am mad with death. What am I mourning?
What am I mad with? For if I am mad with courage. What is my sacrifice?
What am I mad with? For if I am mad with sorrow. What am I sad about?

I read in a textbook that 3 out 4 people with mental illness commit suicide. I have only attempted suicide once in my life a long time ago.
I know what true hopelessness feels like and it's the worst thing to ever feel. It's as though every cell in your body is turning against until your mind tells you to give up because you are in so much agony.
What are we to live in a hopeless and cruel world?
What are we to defy statistics?
What are we to become so resistant to despair that getting out of bed is a triumph?
What are we to be warriors rising from the grief and hopelessness?
What are we to be so mentally and emotionally indestructible to our own darkness?
What are we to mature from pain?
Are we angels or demons? Depends on the person. The true test of character is the how and why.
Are we inhuman? Depends on if you turned into a monster or not because certainly the test took away something childish from you.
Change is becoming so beyond your own standards that you are someone new.

So Girl with Green Eyes. You went to a worship band internship in Ohio. I know who you are but I don't know what you are. I have seen your monster. I have seen your madness.
What are you? Because I don't know anymore.
I know the labels you have put on yourself. But what exactly do you see yourself as? I know you are a good person. But to what degree do good turns to bad? You go as far as the crowd. Why? You have so much potential. Why chase after boys who only notice your outer beauty? I know the extent of your beauty. You are out of their league. Why do you seek love from boys who have to know you in order to love you? Your romantic fantasies are much more surface level than mine. Love isn't a grocery list. Love is selflessly devoting yourself to a person regardless of what and who they are. I can be your bi best friend but I can't be your therapist anymore. You have all these issues but you don't tell anyone. Are you trying to lose your mind? You want all of the glory from a stage when you act even when it's your closest friends around. I won't spill your secrets but please get your head out of your fantasy land you can't live there forever. I may be a rebel but you are still human. Your ex is living his best life. Why aren't you? You know leading is about guiding the crowds not becoming the crowds. Just saying this strict over zealous, narrow minded choir girl isn't the girl I became friends with. You used to be so open minded, accepting, less this, cheerful, willing to do anything for the outcasts and willing to trust the gothic people at youth group. What happened to that girl? I miss that girl. Who hurt you? Who destroyed that girl? I know people change over time but I hate this wall between us. Who asked you to burn that girl away to ashes? Where did you get all this hate for queer people? You wouldn't even let me watch Love, Simon with you because you said it was a gay movie. I mean it is because it's based off of a good book. Representation of the queer isn't degradation for the straight. Who gave you that idea? Because God loves every outcast. Why don't you? Straight America isn't a real thing. Sure straight people are the majority but queer people still have minority rights. I learned that in history class.

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.

Peel away the mask. What will I find? Beauty? Ugliness? A beast caught up in a fake life? Or a human hiding in the shadows terrified of being alone?
Peel away the mask. Are you a misunderstood villain? Or a hero praised for being a kiss up?
Peel away the mask. What dark secrets are you hiding? Who are you without the mask?
I don't see the point of hiding your agenda the truth comes out eventually. I don't see the point of collecting secrets behind a mask because there isn't much to hide in an invading society.
See each detail, evaluate the destruction behind the mask and release yourself from the mask.
What ghouls are you hiding behind the mask?

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.

What is love?
Love is selfless devotion. Love is being who you are with someone else. Love is getting used to being single and learning to be more you.
Love is finding ways to be proud of yourself.

I was raised in a religious small town where ***** and fuckboys were shamed at churches and praised at school.
I hung out with the geniuses and political kids. As a writer I had the most fun with the geniuses and political kids. Always a new topic to discuss that weren't people we knew just random, exciting stories we heard on the news. We brought Writer's Club and Marching Band inside jokes to our group of misfit people. Poetry, abuse, life, death and politics shared at one table. We didn't care about popularity nor whose rank was higher just nerds with big dreams. Popular people tried and failed to copy what we nerds had. We nerds with big dreams are still chasing our dreams and making them a reality.
What Kind of Human Are You? If I didn't mention you as a goth kid or agriculture geeks. Let me know. Maybe I just haven't got to that story yet.

If you went to high school then you probably heard of Robert Frost's "The Road Not Taken" as the poem goes, "Two roads diverged in a wood and I -- I took the one less traveled by, and that has made all the difference."
Being a rebel writer I always take "the one less traveled by", people in my life will say so. Most of my friends enjoy helping people, one of them is going to college for social work, one of them is planning to become a Registered Nurse, one of them is in college for becoming an engineer, one of them is an English Major in New York, one is a music instructor, and one of them is a missionary planning to open up a coffeehouse. I don't know what the popular people are doing with their lives, I know what my siblings are doing with their lives but that's about it. Statistically speaking, popular people have fewer friends leaving high school because they are normal. The more interesting you are the more people flock towards you like a magnet collecting nails. It's as though the whole "normal" logic flips over when heading into college.
What Path Did You Take? Did you destroy yourself on a drug addiction? Or did you get medical treatment from professionals? Do you have kids? Did you get married? What is your job? Are satisfied with your life? If you aren't satisfied with your life then find out how to make it better. I may not be a doctor but I am someone who understands life pretty **** well.

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?"

When I Dance at weddings I am free.
When I Dance in the shower I am myself.
Either way I am still good at dancing.
When I Dance at school dances, homecoming and prom was the most fun way back when.

When I loss my best friend a part of me went with her.
When I loss my best friend it was 5 days before my birthday.
When I loss my best friend I cried myself to bed each night and barely ate anything.
When I loss my best friend, 6 months after I tried to **** myself but I heard her voice say, "Don't". So put the pocket knife away and went to sleep.
When I loss my best friend, 8 years ago I couldn't look myself in the mirror because I kept getting memory flashbacks of our wonderful friendship. So I had to remind myself, she wasn't there.
When I loss my best friend, at night I heard her voice say, "I forgive you." And I felt her kiss my cheek. That night I forgave myself.
When I loss my best friend, I knew no one else was going to save me so I made new friends.
Her name was Kalie. And before she died she promised me we would be best friends no matter what. Her spirit doesn't visit me as often as she used to but I still feel her love for me.

When I outsmart my ex-boyfriend we fight which is very often.
When I outsmart my ex-boyfriend he gets angry he shuts me out and I give him the silent treatment.
When I outsmart my ex-boyfriend he acts like he is the victim.
When I outsmart my ex-boyfriend he begs for me to love him more than a friend but I don't.
When I outsmart my ex-boyfriend he thinks my boundaries are my standards.
When I outsmart my ex-boyfriend he thinks that I will allow him to insult me personally when he feels threatened by my intellect.
When I outsmart my ex-boyfriend he wants to kiss me but I push him away.
When I outsmart my ex-boyfriend I wish I could break off the friendship and quit him forever.
When I outsmart my ex-boyfriend I wish I never met him.