Just thirteen young of age,
I chanced upon a dalliance of
the housekeeper and the butler.
He whispered words of honey as his lips danced along her skin,
and she echoed breathless sighs as she arched her back.
The heated scent of wax danced and lived in the company of lust,
when footsteps staggered down dreadful stairs.
The couple untangled their aroused bodies,
and slid into the night forlorn.

Beneath the night sky lingered unsaid promises,
for tomorrow night my dear, we will bond.

Funny how a photograph can pump blood
I only have one of you, it isn't mine
it sits here backlit
shared with all that would gladly drown in those mischief eyes.
Your smile, a moment of calm, a second of perfection caught, always brings my own.
There is no beauty like yours, no work of art has ever made me want to overflow with passion the way you do. I could write countless poems, a thousand odes to your dimples, a million sonnets to your curls, a billion lovesongs to your eyes to no avail. So I'll laugh at your jokes, and be a sturdy shoulder, a friend.  I'll wish the best for you always, while your heart keeps my secret safe. Poets shouldn't fall in love with the unloved, there aren't enough words to describe the agony.

When I was 15, my mother bought me a bottle of slimming pills.
It was supposed to work wonders, I will be skinny.
Skinny pretty skinny pretty.
Each time I swallow the tiny capsules
I chant to myself - lighter, funnier, happier, prettier.
Each time sorrow drowns me and darkness threatens to bring me away from all that I have - the selfish, obsessive, superficial and self-absorbed nature in me.
I was sad, ungrateful, unforgiving, and ugly.
Walking on eggshells, floating like a soulless corpse.
It was supposed to work! Screamed mama.
So put on your makeup for weekly visits to the doctor,
Buy exotic eyes and sell your kindness.
Roll your eyes against beauty and settle for pretty.
Pretty breeds confidence and erodes humanity.
Be skinny for you will be pretty and happy.
Isn't that what life’s supposed to be?

When I was 16, all the pent up emotions escaped me.
Mama, what about humanity, compassion and love?
What about friends who became cold and hungry and alone,
What about laughter, joy and the extraordinary gift god blessed us with to taste sweet, sour, bitter and spice?

Regardless of society’s condemnations, I chose to be myself.
All that I was worth,
Not lighter, but indeed funnier.
Not prettier, but no doubt happier.
Because once you find the people who truly appreciate you for who you are,
Nothing matters!
Despite your occasional selfish thoughts when you choose to believe in what strangers cast on you, and your self-absorbed connotations of how you should look, it’ll be visible and so glaringly obvious that the presence of your kind and hopeful nature overlooks the demons that tip-toes to your mind and resides for a little while, just for the repeated eradication you will apply.
Each time you do that, you prove to yourself how amazing you are and no matter the ways reality is set different from this poem,
You have the strength and the courage to stop,
And start to believe,
For a heart is stronger than it seems.