the lady in red
who lived in my head
used to come to me
and it all started at around age 3
she was sweet and nice and very pleasant
but behind that all she was just a peasant
she was there in all of my times of need
she was strong and blunt and always wanted to protect me
but only I could see her and it was just our little secret you see
she told me 'If you tell anyone that you can see me they'll think you're crazy and take you off to a bad place.'
so I never told anyone so I could continue to see her face
around the time I was 8 she left me alone
'You don't need me anymore you're all grown.'
'You're smart and old in the brain, you can take care of yourself now so I can't stay.'
she was on her way and nothing could stop her
I begged and begged but she was an admonisher
so I let her leave and I never saw her again
the lady in red
she was my best friend

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?

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

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.

A poem is a wound, turned to words.

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.

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

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.

what i love about you most is your voice when you're tired
or maybe it's your smile
or the way you say my name
the way you are willing to stick around because you aren't like the others and you have no selfish agenda
the way you'd kiss my scars, or kiss my lips
the way you care about who i care about
your heart and soul
which you poured into me when i didn't even know how to stand
your charm
your glossy eyes
our friendship
our long talks
our "goodnight"'s
although i'm glad they aren't goodbyes
because i love your good morning texts most of all
your acknowledgement that i'm a person with feelings
feelings for you
for everything you do

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.

Life is a beautiful lie and Death is the ugly truth.

my mother taught me how to share
i never had an "i don't wanna" moment
i was respectful and kind and never claimed anything was fully "mine"
however now i don't want to share
i don't want to see her with someone that's not me
i don't want to see instagrams of her calling someone else babe
or snapchats of her new "princess"
call it being greedy or jealous
but i don't want her to be someone else's
just as i don't want to be with anyone other than her
i want her mouth only on mine
call it possessiveness or whatever you want
i want her to be happy i just want it to be with me, i don't want her "i love you's" to fade to "i care", or "i'm still here"
i long for her touch and her presence
i feel as if i didn't appreciate what i had when i had it
and now somebody else might steal my baby
and i don't want to share...

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.

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

and they just go.

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.

where is the line between creativity and insanity?

all the good ones die.

or become no longer good.

The way it looks at him makes me uneasy.
Knowing that all I've ever wanted was to make him feel that way... with that look.
I can't give him what it gives him, the beauty, the perfection. I'm not enough.
I'm said to be a big part of his life and yet I feel so pushed to the background.
Lost in oblivion.. of regret and sadness.. memories on repeat. And so many emotions. Of love, of loss, of no touch.
*Of no him.

i fill these voids inside of me with the things i don't need, the things that i perceive as happiness.
all people have their voids and all people have their fillers.
some have clothes and shoes and jewelry.
some have money and fame and colleagues.
some have ***, drugs and rock and roll.
but when it comes down to it their is still that void, it's just filled to the brim with stocking stuffers.
so once you unclog the drain and all of the things come pouring out, your just a 10 pound brain piloting a slab of meat with a hole inside of you.
the hole that has been scratched out by people and misfortune and lies and deceit.
but you still have your brain... and your slab of meat, which is more than some could say they have.
so you have to move on to the next location with your void... to try and fill it.
but the thing is your still walking around with the problem.
you think that if you move and make new acquaintances the void will be filled and the past will be corked and thrown into the ocean like a bottle floating waiting to be found.
but you can't throw your bottle into the ocean because it's the only bottle you have.
it's the only life you have.
you have to find a way to not avoid the problem or try to get rid of it.
but to put the past in the past and live in your present and continue on with your future.
that's why they call it a present.. because it's a gift to even have one.

i liked the way you made me feel
until you didn't make me feel that way anymore
so i let you go
but was that the right thing to do?
i have a void, that i've been trying to fill
ever so carelessly
drugs, ***, rock'n'roll
i've lost control
hell, i don't want to be in control
i want others to control me
i want someone to constantly be there and reassure me
but everyone leaves or i push them away
and i'm left with the biggest hole of agony inside
that can never be filled...
love is conditional.
love is stupid and blind and erratic and irrational.
love cares for no one.
so maybe it's not love i'm looking for?
maybe it's to erase the past
but time is a cruel thief.
time is selfish and careless.
and we waste him so he wastes us.
i am wasted.
no, not drunk.
but rather a ship, wasted at sea.
stuck in the sand of the past.
with this hole of agony... filling up with unwanted things.

i can see you in the stains on my glasses.

i'm going to die
that part is inevitable
you aren't going to miss me
i wish that part was avoidable
but chances are
when i gasp for one last breath
you'll be somewhere laughing
while my spirit releases into the air
like one of those balloons that kids only love for 5 minutes

I hate that I'm up thinking about you when I know I hardly cross your mind. Thinking about my lost innocence. Thinking about how everyone's told me that I'm older now and need to move on. And I have, but I can't forget the feeling.
As a child you're supposed to feel loved, wanted, adored, yet I always felt like I was a burden. You may be asking yourself, why? Well, maybe it was because I tried to hold my father's closed fists.

my love for him is wholehearted, however, it seems like i can't love him correctly anymore?
i can't put my arms around his waist, or touch his chest, or hold him certain ways.
i used to be understanding when it came to the lack of p.d.a because i agreed that it was inappropriate.
but, now, i feel like the girl that he just holds on to because he feels like no one else will accept him how he is.
under the binder, behind the socks in his underwear.
i don't care which gender he is because i fell in love with who he is at heart.
but anymore, i'm scared his heart is changing.
his mind definitely is, from putting on mascara 6 months ago to trying to make a shadow.
i am understanding.
i am loving.
but i am not benevolent.
or all-knowing.
but who knew loving someone unconditionally would come with so many conditions?