We are a liars, because
the truth of yesterday becomes a lie tomorrow,
whereas letters are fixed,
and we live by the letter of truth.
The love I feel for my friend, this year,
is different from the love I felt last year.
If it were not so, it would be a lie.
Yet we reiterate love! love! love!
as if it were a coin with a fixed value
instead of a flower that dies, and opens a different bud.

I somehow forget how to write with a simple pen or pencil to express my feelings delight

I sometimes realize I'm not really a poetic rhythm to ring the ears of the people while being under hypno-tizum.

I see how people use their imaginations and creativity to create the fondest stories in history.

I can relate to the angry/hapiness/sadness that i read that sometimes makes my wrists bleed purposely.

Either way poem/poems are one of a kind  that people cannot duplicate unless we have similar minds.

                            sealed with a kiss
                                          Xoxoxo

everyone i've written about
has left me.
so you must understand
why i will not immortalize you
with my words,
why i won't turn you
into a poem.

maybe this way
you'll stay.

Why?

Why do you deny yourself
something you’ve wanted
for so long?

Why do you run from dreams
even when you see
they can come true?

Why do you ignore the words
coming from your heart
when it is pleading with you?

Why do you hide from happiness
knowing it is waiting
to bring a smile to your face?

Why do you abandon love
that touches every part of you
in its truest form?

Why don’t you do something
for you?

Why do I keep asking myself these questions?

Why am I asking you?

She had skeletons tucked away in her closet so maybe that's why she grabbed onto the nearest spine. Maybe her step father made her shake until she fell and that's why she held my hand. Maybe he said "let's play a game", so she passed it down to me.
The way the sheets fluttered around my throat has left rings around my neck that I still stroke when I see my reflection. The way her laughter echoes in my ear has only made mine louder just to mellow it out.
I hear them in everyone. It's a set of ghosts that just won't leave my walls. They claw at my spine. They rip at my veins.
People wonder why I don't sleep, I don't sleep because they each scream in a different ear. One screams "you're worthless" and one screams "I'm almost done"
But they're never done. They never leave. They scratch and they bite and they moan and they cry.
So when will I stop crying? When will I stop blaming myself? When will I stop cutting my wrists to make them go away? Right now I'm thinking they are forever with me. The ghost in my walls. The reasons I rattle.

It is.
Out the back door
into the woods.
Running
free to live with
its own cold kind.
Love it?
Then let it go.
I love you but
I wouldn't
let you go. Oh
absolutely,
I couldn't.