You are not the judgement people make of you
Nor are you your supposed flaws
You are not entitled to believe you can't,
Just because they said you couldn't.
You are not the servant,
Of the demons that envelop
Your entire being at 3:45am in
The morning.

Instead

You are the little things in life
That make you happy.
You are a beautiful Sunday morning.
You are the way your eyes sparkle
With happiness when you read a good poem.
You are the chirping of birds at 9am.
You are everything great.

But most importantly,
You are YOU

-JN

sand and saltwater sweat
fills my nostrils
as we lay side by side on
the shore.
if love was an ocean,
then I've never wanted to
drown more.          
                             l.r.

A blond girl walks in front
and I fall in love
not with how she jgiggles
(that comes later walking home)
because she doesn't
in her neat two short
French braids,
petite flat black shoes
and a rolled up, no
it can't be no one reads
printed media anymore
but it's there, in her purse
as she walks fast
fading into the future
I can't catch up with even if
she doesn't turn left or right
while I'm a centrist so our future
diverges splits into
parallel universes identical
except our minor chord variation
in the Music

I only love you
at night
when loneliness
fuels desire
and
desperation
replaces
rational thought

Your value is reflected
in an empty whiskey bottle
sideways
on the stained carpet

Funny how everything
is eventually
neglected

Who is she
with the brown hair
and blue eyes?

Who is she
whose mind is full of demons
and thighs with a gap?

Who is she
whose always leaning
and cutting up her lap?

Who is she
with the clothes full of tares
and who always dies?

Who is she
whose life is never seeming
and always a game of tap?

Who is she
with the life that isn't so fare
and all the staring guys?

Who is she
whose always screaming
with emotions like a map?

Who is she?

-She is you reflection-

I love you,
I love you, from the bottom of my heart,

I'll whisper that,
In your ears,
When we're no longer apart.
(I bet it gives you chills)

You did the same to me,
All those nights really late,
I'd ride my bike to you,
And I'd hop over those gates,
Then in through the window,
Where you would be awake,
(a few times you weren't)

That mile and a half,
Riding in the dark,
Sometimes it was foggy,
But there were always sparks,

I've tried living without you,
It's been nothin but a mess,
If I have to live without you,
I'll be miserable at best.

So I say again my beautiful girl
I love you
I love you, from the bottom of my heart.

I wish I could write again.
Like I used to when I was sad.
I'd write and it was beautiful and creative
Because the most sad things are the also the most creative.
But things have changed.
And I can no longer write.
Because I no longer feel sad.
I just feel nothing.