Love.
Love is supposedly this amazing thing -
So why is it that I'm left in tears?
Love triggers immense feelings -
But nobody warned me about the painful ones.

So I made my decision -
To not love again,
But then you turn up and mess with my head.
How dare you?
No.
I will not feel these immense feelings,
Because I know that if I do,
The pain will shortly follow
And I can't deal with that again.
If my heart breaks one more time nothing will be able to fix it.

To my dark scar, my black mark,
The shadowy spectre that follows,
you have constantly fought me down.
But know - I will not stand for it anymore.

I will reduce you to lower than anonymity
you are less than a stranger or an enemy
I will stare straight through you
you are not even nothing to me.

I no longer believe the lie that I need you
I will deny you the attention that feeds you
You are no more my inspiration or my muse
instead I choose to see things differently.

You will not be beautified or elevated,
You will not be derided or hated,
I won't dignify you with a single thought,
but, from now on - I will stand above you.

I am greater than the pin ***** of your existence
my heart beats with strength and persistence
You will not longer be the fear that lies in me
I will see the truth shining behind your darkness

You have tried to take my living breath
but I have already hit the depth of depths
and you can do me no more pain -
time and time again I will find my feet

and though you may bring me to tears
and poke my imagination with a thousand fears
I will not bow to you, my eyes are fixed on something higher,
and I will be wholeheartedly blinkered.

I will be me and that will be good enough
I won't measure myself by any of your should'ves
I will not blindly pursue an expectation of emptiness
instead I will profess my own self worth

I will see all of my differences - indifferently
they are beautiful and flawed but are unique to me
The rights to this story are paid for and they are mine
and I vow to myself that I will hold onto my pride

And when you rise up in me and begin whispering
when you are sat upon my shoulder - I won't be listening
I will block you out, I will sing above you
I will sing unashamedly because my voice is mine
and you will no longer dictate my course.

And when you are the brick wall standing in my way
And you try to cause my reason and my sanity to sway
I will rush you,  I will break you and I will crush you
You will be no more than the dust beneath my feet
And I will run faster and stronger than before

And I know it won't be the last time I say this
But this will be my statement of intent and I will believe in it
And so right now, right at this moment
It ends.

"The female body is a beautiful thing."
How dare you suggest such a thing?!
The female body is not designed for romantic beauty - no
It is designed for pleasure,
The pleasure of every man out there.
Even if the woman eyes out women rather than men,
Man will still take pleasure,
But as a fetish - as a kink.

*****.
The bigger, the more painful.
But who cares?!
The bigger the better.
With ******* designed for flicking and ******* on in order to "turn her on"
Do you forget what their initial purpose is?
Do you forget the pain she went through to birth her children?
And the struggle of breast feeding?
Of course not.
You just don't care.

"The female body is a beautiful thing."
Yes it is beautiful - **** even.
Designed for the pleasure of men.
Shaved as smooth as the women men watch not so secretly.
*** is not supposed to be enjoyed by the woman - she is the enjoyment, the entertainer.
Womankind is not designed to be loved nor cherished.
Womankind is designed for *** and nothing more than that.

Let me tell you something: everything that you just read is not true - and yet this is what today's young people are being taught.
Girls believe that they cannot be popular without being sexualized; they wear revealing clothing, send nudes and will even go as far as having *** just to feel beautiful.
And even then she will be called a *****, a ****, a *****.
Girls are being taught that this is normal - that it's okay.
It is not okay.
Girls should not feel that they have to give their all to everyone and keep nothing for themselves.
Girls should be able to feel happy and positive on their own - without being told that they are **** by some ***** middle aged man.

So here is my message to every girl out there:
You are beautiful* and don't let anyone tell you differently.
Don't let society pressure you into doing, saying or wearing certain things that you are uncomfortable with.
Don't let men use and manipulate you.
Your body is *your property and nobody else's and it is not designed to be sexualized by men.
One day you will find the love of your life who will protect and cherish you and treat you the way you deserve.
But always remember:
Be true to yourself and be happy.

This.
This is not healthy.
What I feel is not okay.
And yet I still feel this way.
It's not even like I'm unaware of it -
I still have the scars from the last time.
You ruined my life and I hate you for that.
And yet I still feel this way.
Every time I see you the butterflies awaken.
I know it's not a sick feeling -
I wish it was.
I wish I didn't still care.
'Just friends', I always say.
Who am I trying to convince?
I tell myself:
"I don't care."
"I don't care."
"I don't care."
And yet I still feel this way.
I don't want to.
The scars that linger seem to fly away when you're around.
How can one so young be so dominated?
I don't know...
And yet I still feel this way.

Before me stands a 'mirror',
Before my eyes open,
You tell me to prepare myself,
For I am about to see my reflection-
A live image of myself.
So I open my eyes.
And I scream.
And I run.
For what I see is not who I am.

I awoke that morning in an empty bed
No sign you'd been here - might as well have been dead
I reached for my cell and dialed your number
Yet all that was there was white noise to cease slumber
I pressed my face into the pillow where your head once rested
And yet your scent had already faded
As I sat up and looked around I saw nothing
Nothing but cobwebs and faded photographs of my young self playing.
Where have you gone to now?
Wait... nevermind, you never existed anyhow.

Don't love me tender,
And don't love me sweet,
Or here's an idea:
Why not retreat?