You are still a good person when you wake up naked
next to a man you don't remember
you are still a good person when you have to find out his name
by digging through the mail sitting on his kitchen table.

You are a good person when you call your brother's girlfriend
that word that she often acts like.

You are a good person when you take free drinks from men at bars
without returning a favor.

You are still a good person when you choose to let go of your parent's religion.

Don't let the ghosts of guilt dance outside of your windows,
like flames,
they will engulf you.

Don't pray for forgiveness,
forgive yourself.

Don't be cocky,
don't get walked upon,
you are worth not more than them, but you are worth just as much.

Cool it a little on the ***, Cheech and Chong,
it makes you inarticulate
and your dad will find your stash one day,
and flush it  all down the toilet.

Say thank you more often and be more sincere.
People will not always be kind,
know that it is special when they are.

Stay in one spot, even after you **** everything up,
let it breath, you'll see it's not so bad.
Know that the ugly sits in all of us regardless if we
stay long enough to let anyone else see it or not.

When counting friends, count them on one hand,
bigger numbers will never mean "less alone."
Choose quality over quantity every time.

Let people finish their sentences,
don't pretend to know what they are going to say;
You do not now, and will never... know it all.

When the first boy you love treats you like something that is
disposable or easily replaced,
don't cheat on him.
LEAVE, GO, Don't look back!
Relationships are not jail sentences,
you don't owe them time.
Besides, his forgiveness
will never mean you can forgive yourself.

When that one other boyfriend introduces
you to his friends as his roomatte,
don't later follow him to bed.
Demand that he treats you like you would like
your future daughter to be treated.
Because you are somebody's daughter,
and your mother, she loves you a **** of a lot!

Don't be afraid to run home when your heart hurts.
Your mother's house will be clean and
it will smell like fresh coffee early in the mornings.
Drink your coffee by the kitchen window
watch the sunlight saturate the fruit trees.
let your mother kiss your forehead, then say goodbye.
Remember, there was a reason you left.

One last thing…
When that one terrible thing happens
that you don't often talk about
Don't blame yourself for hiding, and crying.
Don't shake in crowded rooms,
don't need ***** to talk to strangers.
Please, don't question why it didn't mess her up
like it messed you up.
You saw her scars that could be easily seen
but you will never see the ones she hides beneath her skin.

I bet you want to know if things get better
Um, I'm not sure they do.
Things do get different
and somehow,
when you get to that point, different will be enough for you.

When I was younger I believed
whole heartedly I was worthy and
deserving of love,
and these days I just seem to  
take what I can get.

I keep starting tiny fires
to keep me warm
if only momentarily,
they only leave me colder
when they burn out

sometimes when I'm lonely
I like to glamorize past
failed relationships and
imagine that
that they loved me better,
or I them.

I.
I remember being a child,
sitting in sunday mass,
taking in the the bright
stained glass blues and the reds.

The sunlight would leak through the cracks
drowning my small hands
in color and warmth…

Color and warmth;
That might be the best way
to describe you

II.
I have to remind myself
that staring at you is like
staring directly at the sun,
eventually, I'm going to go blind,
whether it be with love
or complete and utter inadequacy,

I can't help but prepare myself
for what I will lose
at the foot of your charm.

III.
You might not now it yet,
because things always
come easily to people like you.
But you will realize soon
that I can't give you anything
that you can't get from anyone else,
without half the battle.

I don't blame you if you go.

1.
A study has proven
that love affects the brain
like a drug addiction,
and addiction is a disease.

Love is a disease,
that explains so much!
The not acting like oneself,
the delusions,
the spending full days in bed,
the forgetfulness,
the appetite loss,
the aches

Oooh, the aches!

2.
Our hearts are vagabonds,
we try to trap them in tiny rooms
and lock the doors;
like kidnappers,
we get sad when they ask to leave.

How ******* creepy of us.

3.
Sometimes I treat love as a form of currency,
and I have always been bad with finances.
I always seem to spend it all in one place
without a thought of who is truly
worthy of my investment.

4.
A friend of mine once told me that
the minute you meet someone
you know the reason why
you will leave them one day.  
When you're high
you don't usually think of how awful
it will be to be sober/alone,
and if you ever do
you just try to get more ****** up,
and pretend that tomorrow will never come.

Almost nothing last forever,
prepare yourself without ruining present moment.
Love yourself a tiny bit more than you love them.

People flee but the feelings settle
in the space they left,
like dust on a bookshelf.

Don't be surprised when a breeze comes through
and you begin to count all the things
that could have made them laugh.
Doesn't mean you need them,
just means you did love them once.
But it's over,
it will never be the same,
how could it be?

People always look more beautiful when they
are departing by train or any other engined vehicle,

You watch them from a tiny window
and you mourn them as they slowly go away.

OH the BEAUTY, OH the TRAGEDY… oh puhlease!

Just try living with them for 5 years,
and having them *** on your toilet seat,

or hate all your friends or,

make fun of you when you're hungover and
rub all the embarrassing things you did in your face or,

hogging the TV to watch a Lakers game
when The New Girl is on and
everybody knows they are going to lose
then he's going to be all mopey all night.

Ugh, talk to me then!

Yeah, Jeremy, I'm talking to you.

You are a ghost lost in the hallways of my brain,
the gaps between my fingers and,
the space between my lips.

I'd like to show you the way out
from beneath my bear trap ribs;
I don't know how to be your keeper
just as much as you don't know how to be kept.