every colour of the rainbow reminds me of you
my love
I cant get you out of my head
violet oh violet
that dark night sky
the stars you made me see
the love you made me feel
blue as I am
when all hope was lost
the misery and helplessness
that great anguish
red why red
rage, eruptions
fury as such
like we never knew we could possess
white pure white
how heavens seem
angels and God
gave me what I needed
my peace at last
I can't get you out of my head
and you tell me how much you love it

Growing up, I was the heartbreaker. I knew what it felt like to have boys behind me, many boys.
I was also the heartbroken one once, but only one time. I didn't know what I was getting myself into, but I dived right in, blindfolded.
Why would I not?
It's not every day that you meet a boy with stars in his eyes and honey dripping off his words.
He seemed perfect to me. Seemed.
Perfect because he was the one boy who saw me for who I was. Was.
I was scared because all this was new to me. I didn't trust myself not to trust him. He was a charming boy. Boy.
All my life I'd been taught to save myself for a man, but instead, I let go of myself and loved a boy. Loved.
And that led to my demise.

Some days I wake up confused. And lost.
Sometimes I feel like I'd just been crying. And I feel so because I know so. I know because I feel, the dried-up tear tracks running down the side of my face that hits the pillow.
Why was I crying? Why am I crying? What do I want?
I think I want meaning. I know I want a distraction. I think I know I want to let it all out.
Everything's a distraction, I'll admit. You're lifting me up mentally but I can also feel you dragging me down.
But I'm used to this and it's all way too familiar to me. Not a warm-and-cozy kinda familiar, an I've-been-cold-for-so-long-that-my-heart-is-frozen kinda familiar.
Can you figure me out? Because I can't.
Tell me, am I pretending, or trying to hide, or pretending to try and hide?
These songs I hear in my head, do you hear them too? You know, I can't help but sing along.
Inhabiting my body, possessing my mind, flowing forth from my mouth, and the mouth of those without an identity of their own.
At the end of the day,
I know who I am, I know what I am.
I am afraid.
I am afraid of myself.
I am afraid of the power I may possess and I am afraid of the power that may possess me.

They say that in the final 30 seconds of your life, you see either the  best moments, or the entire thing flash before your eyes. I couldn't really differentiate between the two;
Thirty. One of the most memorable performances of my life, the day you caught my eye from amongst the crowd. Twenty-seven. That day my friends and I hung out at the pool and laughed so much that I nearly died. Twenty-three. When we were at your place and I cut and colored my hair, all in your bathroom sink. Fifteen. All of us, sleep deprived, but lazily singing and dancing on the pavement nonetheless because school was out. Eleven. My hands hold yours. Your lips hold mine. Six. The final sunset I'd ever witness. Three. Your eyes. Zero.

Why is it that even if someone breaks my heart I'll take them back? You could hurt me over and over but I'll be holding the door wide open the next time, no matter how much I cry or how angry I am, I'll forgive it all for a chance at the good times. People call me strong but actually I am so weak I cannot support myself, I act so fake like nothing hurts me at all but inside I struggle to breathe as I am drowning in my own hatred, I cry and try to stop but everyone thinks it's a joke since I'm happy the rest of the time, I write down my feelings which are true in the form of poetry but everyone thinks it is just an expression so they don't worry.

That is both an advantage and disadvantage of being a writer, I could write all my deepest and most sincere thoughts, and everyone will think it's merely a beautiful poem.

Is it not?

My heart hurts and everything seems wrong.
Tears stream down my face right as time is frozen.
And you're the cause, I hate you for that.
The years I've spent hating you for letting our love die is now something I deeply regret.
I finally get that you sacrificed yourself just so I could be happy.
You let your heart break and shatter completely just so mine could heal.
But you also made me suffer something worse than death.
And that makes me hate you.
You let me cry and cry and cry for so long just so I wouldn't suffer, but that was my suffering.
I hate you for that too.
You didn't stop me when I yelled names and profanities at your face repeatedly as I in the hallway for 'cheating' on me, and people thought I was crazy.
I hated you a lot for that.
But mostly I hate you because no matter how much I try to forget you or our love, I can't.
You did everything just so I'd forget or hate you, but now you realize that all that suffering was for nothing.
I love you,
And I always will.
But we both don't deserve this.

Write sad poems that'll make people regret the aftermath of the choices they never made. Write heartbreak poems that'll make people reminisce about the fast-paced relationships they never had. Write joyous poems that'll make people rejoice in winning the tournament they never took part in. Write love poems that'll make people want to go profess their love to a person they've never met. Write inspirational poems that'll make people want to go fight for a cause they were never a part of.
Write poems that'll make the reader feel what you felt when you wrote them. As a writer, that will be your biggest achievement- making people feel emotions they've never felt before, except for when they read your works.