It's a dangerous thing,
To want to be this close to someone.
But when you are skin to skin,
And mouth to mouth,
You just want to get *so much closer.

There are parts of me that
lay unrested - they are ghosts
in hallways, they are smoke
suffocating in locked rooms.

Sometimes I can feel
myself fading and it takes
all I have to pull myself
back from the abyss.

I'm walking on ice, yet
to find a stable foothold in
life seems unprecedented.

I still haven't learnt when
my hands began writing
rather than shaking.

You breathe my name into
your chest, letting me settle
like dust into your bones.

Tethering me to this moment,
eyes fierce, burning as vibrant
as tiger lilies in a vengeful sun.

Your fingers burning holes in
our sheets, leaving remnants
of their disgust in my scars.

Even to this day I cannot stay
up for the sunrise, I find your
taste infused on my tongue.

And I'm still left to wonder if it
was Lucifer I saw in your eyes
or the gods that condemned me.

Innocence is the days when
I thought that monsters
lived under the bed rather
than slept right beside me.

It was the times I feared
heights almost as much as
I now fear brooding stares.

Back when I thought
passionate love was the
only kind worth having
— that I now wish for a
lover who loves quietly.

Innocence was thinking
danger was an ill-advised
adventure, not a man.

It was admiring a tornado
heart and not realizing the
damage it would cause.

His name is buried into my skin quite literally
And figuratively
Arms in the air
Chest out, swan dive to the pavement
And in the three seconds before touch down you will hear his name peeling off my skin
He has always been the skeleton in my closet
The monster under my bed
He whose name shall not be said
Because he will always fine you
And then leave you
Three seconds before touch down

I've been trying to make father and dad rhyme
But dad has the essence of holding and never letting go
and father is some one who writes you letters after years of no speaking
Dad is some one who held you when you scraped you knee
And father is someone you only remember seeing once, and it was very cold that day
Dad is some one you talk to
and Father only wrote you one letter and you are 16
Dad is someone who you fight with, but you love him
and father is someone you will never know
Maybe its best that I can't rhyme sentiment and hopelessness
*Present and absent will never coincide with each other
Because my dad is not an antonym
And my father will never be a simile

I want someone to write a
Poem
about me
just so I can see all my flaws
from eyes that are not my own
and I want to
bury myself in this someones mind
poking and prodding at
memories that don't belong to me
curling myself around
the idea that
my flaws are just fissures in my skin
barely recognizable
until you take the time
to ask how I got those scars
because I want someone to look me in the eyes
and talk to me for hours
then write a poem about how insecure I am
just so I can see if they truly understand
I want this someone
to write about my hands and eyes
because they give so much away and I wonder
if you realize just how much I say
without saying a word
I want someone to remove my mask
and drink in every detail
of the real me
memorizing the sound of my
genuine laughs
and eye crinkling smiles
then put pen to paper
describing the way I switch masks
when I fear someone is getting too close
because I need to be seen for once
and I want this someone
to write about my sharp tongue
and honest eyes
I want to look through this someone's eyes
and see all that they see
because my eyes have become too dull and sad
to do me much good anymore
and these days all I see is the shattered reflection
of a girl that once was

We are human
We fight for freedom.
Gender equality,
Peace between the races
And for the end of all wars.

Yet, we have sold ourselves
To mental slavery.
Concocting an idea of beauty
That evolves
Each time we get close enough to grasp it.

We consume morsels
And curl our frail bodies over the toilet bowl
Stare into the mirror, and
Smile.
For between our thighs
we have carved, a gap.

We paint our faces
and hide the artwork that lies beneath.
We are enslaved by ourselves
And in turn we enslave society.

But, we are human,
We fight for freedom,
Gender equality,
Peace between the races
And the end of all wars.

But we neglect the wars going on inside us.

I saw this poem you wrote
and I got my hopes up
Sky high
and then I realized
It wasn't for me
But I keep it tucked in my mind
because maybe one day
it could be

**** every hope I ever had
with your deathray eyes