we don't get to choose who we love,
and as i chose to love you
i watched you turn into a friend
into a lover,
and into a stranger.
i just wish the process would've gone slower.
maybe then i could've enjoyed it all.
sat back and watched as our story unfolded.
and ended.

it's not something that i want to gloat about.
i'm not being selfish or greedy.
i'm not doing this because it's a trending topic or i saw other people do it.
i'm doing this because i love.
i love people.
maybe this is happening because i haven't always felt love from others, and i'll just accept what i can get.
maybe it's because i am a rebellion and just want to love him or her regardless of the status quo.
or maybe it's just because i love.
and i love to love.
to make a person smile no matter what is between their legs.
and make them feel wanted.
and happy.
and give them a home in my heart hoping i'll have a shelter to run to in theirs.
i love girls.
i love boys.
but most importantly i love myself.
and as scared as i may be.
and judged.
and discriminated against.
and shunned.
or cursed at.
i will still love.
and i will still stand with my hands in my pockets or in a girl or guys hand.
it may not be a happy life.
and i may not have as many opportunities as the man next to me who has different values.
but i will still love.
i will love my God for i know he accepts me for who i am.
for how he made me to be.
i will love the people who stick with me and tell me that there is no difference between me and the woman that i crossed paths with on the street.
we are all the same.
we are all one.
and we should all love.
regardless.
so this is me saying.
i love.
and i will no longer be ashamed.
even if you belittle me.
and my love will prevail.
because love is the answer.
not arguments between politicians and preachers.
but love.
between a man and a woman.
a man and a man.
a woman and a woman.
and a brother and a sister.
as God made us.
to love.

all of them just come and go.
and they never love,
and they never care.
they just come...

and they just go.

A poem is a wound, turned to words.

I'm just an empty coffee cup, with nothing left in me and all of the stains from the past.

I have no one,
so I run back to the ones who don't care the most.

i made a friend… she left me in the end.

but i had her for a quick moment.

….then was that friendship?

Lots of people are afraid of the dark, because they fear what is not visible.
But isn't the light more scary?
For you can see everything that strikes fright all throughout your body out in the open, staring you in the face.
The light makes all of the horror come to life, for in the dark nobody can see what is going on.
And ignorance is bliss....
The night is bliss.

i remember when i was a sad child like you, with no hope to exist on this cruel planet, but then i found hope, and i'm holding on to it for as long as i can.

You never see the beauty in the ugly thing staring you in the face, whether it be what you see in the mirror, or the thing that you hold in your hands to end it all.
The metal of the gun; shiny, sparkly, ready to please whomever fires.
The strands of the rope; strong, reliant.
The grain of the pills; slipping you into your permanent dream.
Or the face that you and many others see.
Different to whoever looks at you.
Maybe to some beautiful, wise and pure.
But to you, a monster, never pleased and never pleasing.
You will choose to never see the beauty in you but in the others.
Because you see the world as art.
And you as the starving artist whose career never took off.

there is serenity on the bathroom floor
among the cold tiles
sending the sense of euphoria all throughout your struggling body
the pain
it feels so good
to just sit in the silence
with nothing
but the brisk air
and the cold tiles
sending chills down the spine
that you didn't think you had
because it was so hard to stand
just collapsing on that bathroom floor
with nothing but the readiness and acknowledgment of knowing it's okay to feel the end
because it is inevitable
it comes for all of us
and you may not be scared
but you must be petrified
for when the moment comes
it will feel the same as your body on the cold tiles
and the brisk air will take you away
with the serenity still there
as you enter the gates of wherever the air sweeps you to

Your net worth doesn't bring happiness, your self worth does.

To most she was broken.
To herself she was just fragments lying carelessly among the floor.
But to him she was life.
In his mind he took all of her pieces and put them together.
He never saw her as anything more than her and that was enough.
He only ever saw the good about her.
He was blinded by her beauty and wit.
And she was blinded with who she really was, behind closed doors the person only she saw, disgusted with herself.
But he'd never be.
He'd only ever love her and see her as life.
The only life he'd ever want to lead.

You do your best for others, to make them happy.
And most of the time they could care less, and continue to gloat about themselves.
So don't do things for others.
Do it for you.
You deserve to feel accomplished and be happy with yourself.
You are making progress and if others don't appreciate your journey, they shouldn't be apart of it.

I'm too happy for my circumstances.
But then when they get better the anguish sets in.

I hate the saying ’You have to love yourself before you can love others.’ Because you never even truly know who YOU are entirely. So how can you love somebody you don’t know? Lots of people do it very easily. But it’s just hiding from the reality of it all, of not knowing who you ‘love’ or yourself. Guess love is just an easily tossed around word at this point. Which is sad because it once had a definition and meaning to it all and now people just love everything without even knowing what love is itself.

picking and scratching
my skin bleeding
the scars all over remind me of certain times in my life
when the stress got too much to handle and I sat in the bathroom for hours
destroying the body that was given to me
burning down my humble abode
just picking and scratching away at my sanity
which I'm not sure I ever really had
the scars that I get comments on daily
'Did you try to hurt yourself?'
'Are you alright?'
'Are you being abused or unsupervised?'
no answer really just staring at them;
whilst picking at my scabs in that blissful agony that I love to feel

And the last time that I saw her face, was also our last embrace.

And our last kiss, I will always miss.

And I will always remember the taste of her lips.

When will my last set of tears roll down my cheeks?
When will the sadness come out with the sobs?
When will all be calm and happy and good?
It all comes back to time.
It took time to get to the sadness.
And now it will take an eternity for it to dry out.

Mama said ''Don't trust boys they'll leave you with a broken heart.''
I said ''Yeah well that's alright I've been broken from the start.''

People get tired of you being sad, and then they leave, even when they promised they wouldn't.

She once played beautiful music but now she's just a broken record.

The architecture that goes into building a human I will never understand.
For it is too astonishing for anyone to wrap their head around.
The time, effort and beauty that goes into making even the most evil people.
Everyone has their own beauty.
And their own attraction to others that were built the same or complete opposite way.
In a long and complicated process making them who they are on the inside and what they portray to be on the outside.
Because the exterior can only cover so much before what is on the inside shimmers through the smallest crack.

When I get sleepy I fight the urge to lay my bones to rest.
I have so much going on and lots of stress.
But then it overcomes me and puts me in what seems like a coma.
But then I wake up to my problems still not being over.

You can crave to have someone elses qualities while in the meantime someone else is longing to be as gifted as you in some way.

Never fully satisfied with yourself, you want to be bigger and better.

Because you choose to hear out the people that think you aren't good enough and need better characteristics, and not the ones that think you are beautiful just the way you are.

When I was 5 I started to put sharpie or pen on my nails to make them black.
And I even recall on one instance where I put mascara in my hair to give myself black streaks.
I now want black stiletto nails, and I know that many others have them, or even just paint their fingernails black.
And it makes me think, black is such a beautiful colour and yet we put down and make fun of the people of that colour.
They can't change it, and they shouldn't have to feel that they must.
Being another colour than white shouldn't be a day to day burden or task.
It should make you feel beautiful and blessed.
But not everyone sees it that way.
It's a shame really, you see so many superb black men and women that stand out in this day and age and community.
And it has been that way for centuries.
Giving us all music to move to and lose ourselves in, books to read (perhaps more than once), movies to watch and adore, and many other things.
And yet people don't realize, they're just HUMAN.
Not having a choice of what pigmentation their skin is.
Being beaten unmercifully, and some being prosecuted not from their actions but because people have come to terms that all of that colour perform the same cruel acts.
Stereotypes;
It's not fair and I refuse to live in a society that is so mean and brutal.
Be nice to people regardless of their skin, the look or feel of it.
Be helpful to those in need regardless if others wouldn't because they have different views than you.
I'm not saying this little collection of words will change the world.
But I'm letting it be known that I myself will not be spiteful towards others that have not been to me.
Just because their skin may shout out because it is darker than others, it doesn't make them less of a person.
You don't want people to be put in boxes and yet you categories them, making them feel small and wrong.
We have come such a long way, not just for this subject but for others.
But I want my voice to be heard and my opinion to be stated.
And for others to not be so crass and quick to judge.
People are people, and deserve to be treated like it.

You can complain because roses have thorns, or you can rejoice because thorns have roses.

I find it sad how one minute you can hold someones hand and tell them you love them and the next they can be gone for eternity.
I haven't lost someone in a bit but whenever I do another piece of me gets chipped away.
Losing a family member or a friend, maybe even just an acquaintance it gets under your skin.
Knowing you can never hold another conversation, or shoot them a quick text.
Never hearing their voice again, they're gone forever.
Buried in the ground away from society.
And we wonder, has their soul survived and carried on to the Heaven we hear of and debate over?
Or are they in solitude?
We'll never know.
Until of course we slip into the light.. or darkness.
And the people cry over us.
Knowing that we're gone.
Never being able to return to the day to day routine of life.
Dead.. I suppose that's what they'd call it.

Rain is just a way for the lonely to be touched.
I suppose that's why I love it so much.

It’s odd how the ugly in some can bring out the beauty in others.

As when someone makes you upset and you try to find the good in people or the world, and you turn around and there is a sunset, or a flower.

Just beauty in it’s simplest form, jumping out at you in the most insignificant way.

Making your skies not so grey.

Don’t compare yourself to others. Compare yourself to the person you were yesterday.

I long for touch but yet I flinch when someone gets too close.
I suppose it's the feeling of fear that overcomes me.
Or the voices that flood my memory of the people saying 'You'll never be pretty enough and your soul is too dark.'
I guess I'll just spend my days basking in the wretched comments and the feeling of never being good enough.
I'm displeased when I look in the mirror, and I start to understand what the people say.
Maybe get some surgery and all of the pain will go away.
But even if I did that the rude remarks would still be there.
And I'd still be heavy with all of the weight on my shoulders.

my body is aching
my heart is heavy
my stomach is churning
i'm nervous and shaky
i haven't slept
i don't like my mindframe at this moment

and what will i do after i'm all used up and you've had me at your disposal?

when you look into a persons eyes
you see inside
the part they don't want to open up and show you
you see who they are
their past
their present
and you see if you want to be apart of their future
you see the hurt
the pain
the loss
the everlasting memories burned into their brain
leaving burns and scars and scary thoughts
you see their life
their adventures
their misfortunes
but you also see their good times
the treasures that they hold close
to make them feel like it's not all bad
looking into someones eyes is a journey
exploring the little fragments and seeing what they hold in their nooks and crannies
so look someone in the eyes
when you talk to them
when you lie next to them
and just wander
feel their spirit
their energy
just by looking into their eyes
into their lost soul
getting lost with them
within them
for eternity

'I love you to the moon and the stars.' she said.
And then she fled.
To actually go to the moon.
The Astronaut I fell in love with.
That left me too soon.

And sometimes you have to lose yourself to find the better version of you.
Like Hide and Seek, it'll take time but the game has to end some time.

You know me, Mrs. Heart on her sleeve.

Love is love so once you give it you can't get it back.
Love may be a game, but it doesn't work quite like that.
When you love someone that love never goes away.
Even if you feel like you hate them because of the pain.

We weren't each other's firsts but if we let that get to us we won't be each other's last.

And sometimes the people in your life you thought you needed to survive, aren't all that significant after all.

i feel like the moon and the sun.
dark and mysterious.
one minute up in the sky.
and one minute cowering in the corner not being seen.
the sun takes my place.
being shiny and bright.
then all is happy.
and i am full of life.
but then the day is over and the moon comes back out to play.
everyone stares at me and says i'm beautiful.
but little do they know i'm the most dark and scary creature ever seen.
some people like me.
some people don't.
some people need a light because they're afraid of my darkness called night.
then night is over and i am sunny again.
bipolar they call this.
labeling me with a disease.
'no' i say.
'i'm just fine!'
then i go home and sit and cry.
engulfed in my darkness and in the light the next.
no one is ever there to help me be my best.
'you need help!' they all say.
then help me ******.
can't you see that i'm grey and damaged?

Her smile shines as bright as the sun
Her teeth crooked but still a beautiful smile
Her heart cracked, yet still beating
She's done bad things but she's not a bad person
She wants to explore
Her writings shaky yet smart and simplistic
She's only ever wanted the best for her and others
Her hair cascading down her spine
Long and filled with her secrets and journeys
Her face has no wrinkles because all she ever does is smile
Through the pain and the guilt
The gray hairs have come in because she's been old ever since a young age
Fixing the broken to the best of her ability yet she's still cracked in so many ways
Her fingernails and skin ripped and picked at
She has such good intentions
Her dreams are yet to come true but she has ambition
No money for a long time
But shes been suffice
She wants to live in a nice house, nothing spectacular, but something
She wants to have good memories not bad
She wants to forget the past
She wants to forgive the mean and cruel people
She wants to move on
She wants to be a better person
She wants her writings to not be so dark
She wants so much, but you can want forever and not achieve
She wants to sing for everyone
She wants to be known
Not for who she has been but for who she wants to be
She wants to be her
But who is she?

Where will you be when all goes dark?
Where will you be when the world ends?
Where will you be in your lonely hour?
Who will be with you?
Who will be your friend?
Who will love you until the end?
How will you know if it's going to be alright?
How will you know if your just going to sit in the dark after your life?
Why will it happen?
What or who will trigger it?
Do you know?

She conjured up the most beautiful blade.
And cut into the most beautiful thing.
Herself.

I love listening to sad music.
Because it makes me feel sad.
And I suppose I'm crazy for liking that feeling.
But that feeling is so nice and refreshing.
To have my stomach churn, and my hands to get clammy.
Sad music speaks to my soul.
Because I am a sad person at heart.
It was my plan, and his intentions for me.
To be sad and depressed.
But who dare to say that's a bad thing.
It's only a perception that it is.
Maybe being sad is good.
Maybe being sad helps.
Maybe being sad is the best feeling you can feel.
The angst inside is splendid.
So I'll continue to listen to my sad songs.
And I'll continue to be sad.
But do not have pity for me.
I am happy with the way I am.

I wish I had some privacy just for a moment.
But maybe the privacy would make me do the unthinkable.

dot dot dot
just three simple periods together
so little
yet they speak volumes
filling in the spaces you have no words to fill
just three mere little pixelated specs
dot dot dot

Life experiences make good stories.
So I suppose I'm a great story teller.

tick tock
just staring at the clock
one hand swings by the other
but time doesn't go by
everything stops
everything freezes
nothing moves
as long as your mind is stuck
stuck in its ways
of looking at the clock
waiting for the next minute of your life to go by
waiting for time to progress
just
waiting