I don't know if you think things through
Before saying them
If you hear your thoughts
Before they exit your mouth
I don't know if you consider your words compliment
Or flattery
But noting that I am too pretty
To hide behind paper and pen
Does not feel worthy of a thank you
I have been taught
To value emotional intelligence over beauty
Value conversation over vanity
Would rather get lost in thought than in eyes
I do not choose based on appearance
And you do not get to decide
Which form of release I get to use
To rid myself of demons
I wonder if you would still find me attractive
If you saw every story buried inside of me
If you saw every line burned onto the pores of my tongue
Every tooth in my mouth that should be crooked
My pain is not beautiful
Therefore I have to find a way
To make it close to it
To make it as appealing as possible
I wonder
What kind of profession you would choose for a girl like me
Maybe waitress
Or homemaker
God forbid it's something that demands anything but smiles
If trauma had a face
Mine would be carbon copy
Would be ugly
So do not tell me
That my looks overpower my passion
That words would read meaningless coming from my lips
Your ignorance is not suited for someone like me
Someone who writes with fire in their fingers
And blood between their lips
You are not meant for someone as deeply rooted as this
The strength of my voice does not depend
On the body it comes out of
Its worth is not determined
By beauty
And I
Am not determined
By it either.

I cannot be sure
That your hands
Will be able
To wipe the uncertainty from my eyes
Do not know
If your lips will taste of promise
Or let down
Wonder
If trust
Will feel complacent
In your arms
But I
Am lending myself enough room
To find out
I am
Replacing stability
With risk
Placing hope
Over experience
With the intent
That
It will word
I do not know
If the outcome
Will be
As expected
But I am willing
To take
Your word.

I told myself
That today
I would write something happy
Compose something
As bright as they tell me my future is
But lately all I have been seeing
Is fog
Lately all I have known
Is lightning storm meets hurricane
I do not know
How to compile something that is not truth
And truth is not pigmented sunshine
Is not seventy degrees and blue sky
It is the pounding of thunder in my head
The rolling of harsh waves in my stomach
Memories do not sit sweetly on my tongue
Every thought of mine has turned natural disaster
I never promised to be pretty with my words
Have only hoped
They would eventually evolve into something less ugly
Something I could look to and be proud of
But in order to get to calm
In order to know steady
One must make it through the shaking
So I will write strong
After the tsunami
Will write beauty
After the break down
Will write buoyant
After the saltwater crash
I will write happy
When I finally know
What it tastes like.

I will never believe beauty
As it falls from your lips
Will convince myself
That I do not have any to begin with
That my eyes are too vacant
My smile too crooked
Face too dotted with freckle
I will never believe
That you find this mess
To be anything but catastrophe
I do not feel galaxy
I feel meteor crash
Do not feel
Like I am something to be admired
Feel too short
Too small
To be something you look up to
I will never believe
That my skin
Is blanket enough to wrap yourself in
I do not know warmth
Or soft
Only rough edges and cold
I will never believe
The words that stumble out of your mouth
And slip between your lips
But I will do my best
To catch them
With my own.

I have been in a relationship with my insomnia for four years
Have been on and off with my inability to sleep for as long as I can remember
Know him so well
That trying to avoid him
Is not even an option
His persistance so strong
That I have given up all attempts to leave him
Instead I attempt to please
Feed him with too many thoughts
And late night conversations
Provide him with anxiety
And reaccuring nightmares
It is easy to love something
That has practically become a part of you
Easy to get attached to something
That knows your weakness
Time and again
I have tried to end things
Pursued alcohol before bedtime and medication proven drowsy
But somehow I always come back to him
Let him convince me that sleep isn't needed anyway
That he can give me all of the attention I will ever need
Insomnia
Is the boyfriend I will never be able to break up with
Is the one out to get me
Is the enemy created by my own mind
By my overthinking and fear
Insomnia
Lives in the tip of my pen
In the bend of my fingers
Lures me with words
I cannot keep them inside any longer
Insomnia
Tells me writing is the only way I will stay sane
And if sanity can live without sleep
Then there is no point in doing so
If lack of it
Provides me with material
And the power to write away my demons
Then so be it.

I want my arms and legs
To know what it's like
To turn into vine
To tangle with yours admist bedsheet and skin
Want my eyes
To know
How to open up
To something other than darkness
Forget getting lost in despair
Have them get lost in yours instead
Want my shoulders
To know how it feels
To twist into something
Other than knot
To melt into smooth
Into comfort
Want my hands
To know
What warmth feels like
When it doesn't burn
Want my body
To know
How to let down its guard
How to mold from armor into flesh
From metal into cells
Back into human
Want my body
To learn to its ability
To hold on
Without fear
Of letting go
And I
Want to be able
To hold on
Without the fear
Of being let go.

My smile is burden with the weight of disappointment
With every let down I have been handed
Envelope folded desolation
I have learned to speak sorrow
With my tongue bended backwards
Trained in speaking a language
I might never fully understand
Sew stitching every reality
Along the corners of my mouth
Wear glasgow happiness
As if it's enough
To trick me out of my insecurities
Help me to believe
That contentment
Is not just temporary
That not everybody who comes into my life
Plans on leaving
But I am too familiar with goodbye
To understand welcome
I am used
To crossing my arms into shield
Knotting my fists into apology
I may never know conversation without sorry
But am attempting
To set my expectations low enough
To able to reach them
Without falling.