your sky is not my sky,
but sometimes we share
the same spot on earth.

hope stretches out
makes you dream
of faster, larger
synchronous,
stronger synapses
that show you
the same path
in different light,
that spans across
those past attempts
and future thoughts
still out of sight.

Dying
is like sleeping,
with no more dreams
to rush inside
and shake you up,
night after night.
And all those
memories you stored
in archive shelves
of blood and bone
will be by then
forever lost.

You can't love me
The way I want you to
The way that I do.
You can't look at me
The same way that I do
The way I steal some
Glances
From across the room
That sometimes you do too.
You can't hold me
The way I want you to
Because I want you to
Hold my hand
And my heart
With you to
Where I'll say 'I do'
And you'll say
'I do too'.
You can't love me
The way that I do
And you won't love me
The way that I do
Because you don't
Share my view
Or see things
The way I do
But now
I'm not
The only one
Looking at you
The way I do
And loving you
The way I do
And I know he can do
So much better
Than what I do
So stop pretending
Not to know what to do
Because you know
And I know too
That you should
Chase that feeling
Grasp it
Hold it
And cherish it
Before it bids
Adieu
Chase it for me
My friend
Before he, like me
Gives up too.

You can't love me
The way I want you to
The way that I do.
But love him
The way he wants you to
And want him
The way he wants you to
For I know deep down
That you want him too.

You're turning eighteen.

I know you think it's a big deal, and well, yes, you should celebrate it. But for the most part, things are still the same and change is yet to come. You will wake up still with acne scars. You will wake up still with painful memories carved into your thighs. You will remember that once it wasn't like this and you will have the vague sense that even what you have now will soon no longer be.

Rejoice in the fleeting nature of this moment, with its infinitesimal relevance and infinite beauty. You live here in this ever-changing space; nothing stays the same and you let yourself be carried from day to day. You drift. You watch the landscape of your heart slowly change. Sometimes the sun is creeping over the horizon and the sky is painted in your favorite colors. Sometimes you watch the sky shed tears and apologize for its mistakes. Sometimes you feel filled up with it.

You're turning eighteen. You're scared. And no, you will not wake up entirely different. You will have to keep being alive without knowing what it means. You will still have to be alone. This is your body. This is your soul. This is your brain; these are the demons you've created, monsters you've fed. This is your heart; these are the cracks, these are the bruises which are still tender, still blue.

If you listen closely, it is still in pain, fighting to beat each second. It remembers how you kicked and screamed and threatened to hit it, beat it to a ****** pulp, if it refused to give up on its own, to just stop, to pack its bags and leave behind a sunken, shriveled mess. You remember you were wearing tennis shoes and holding a baseball bat.

Sometimes, inside you, there are thunderstorms no one can tell are brewing. It's just the weather. Tell yourself that. It's something you will have to put up with and make adjustments for every day of your life. So pack an umbrella, buy pink rain boots and a matching polka dot rain coat, if you want. Bandage your heart better, prop it up with stilts, and whisper good things to it sometimes.

Say you've made it this far.

You ever feel inadequate? Like you'll never measure up to others point of view on a certain issue. Well welcome to being human, where above all things you cannot be flawed. Because flaws are viewed as vile things, things to be hidden instead of accepted and anyone who even slightly shows their flaws, they get bullied or hated upon for not being superhuman. And in no ways am I innocent, but after seeing a person being bullied for deciding too keep their innocence. I learned better than to discriminate by a person differences. I learned that our differences are our strengths and not our weaknesses. I learned that if you look beyond the skin, beyond the eyes and behind their grins. You'll see someone for what they are. Life goes on and so should you. Those people who are down-talking you for who you are, are the people who are scared of the people judging them for who they are. So instead of being themselves, they instead go with the flow of a society that has broken peoples hopes. But its not a lost hope to believe in people if you just show them how too cope. How too cope with the people who will want to destroy their goals, it is quite simple really. Take what they say, than look around at the people who have grown close. I can almost guarentee they will outnumber you with physical bodies, but in the end their friends will never hold them when they take anything more than an emotional blow. Your friends will, because they know you. The very real you.