A bar of soap wrapped with candy and sugar?
Or an emerald diamond hidden in a nasty ******?

Can we truly see, or can we just look?
A marvellous story written on the pages of an old dusty book

A short chubby girl with guts and nerves
While she has long legs and perfect curves

Her blue eyes and long blonde hair cause obsessions
but her eyes are sore and she lost her hair during the countless chemo sessions

She steals their hearts, and gets what she prefers
While she prays the nights as cancer steals her's

Now did you find this a bit confusing?
Because the chubby girl maybe outside cruising

While she prays
Counting her last days

Which one is which?
Did they just switch?

Or did you switch them?
You forgot about the rose petals because you were too busy gripping the stem.

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, but what if the beholder is blind?
The more we search inside, the more beauty we'll find.

And as for the two girls, it is not our job to know
because we cannot judge what does not show.

these painkillers
do nothing
about the chills
running down my spine
every few minutes

these painkillers
don't help
the pain my gut feels
as my heart jumps up
and down

these painkillers
never eased
this hollow pain
in the back
of my brain

these painkillers
don't help
and maybe

just maybe,

I don't want them to

Flowers die
and I try not to let myself
get attached
to beautiful things
that won't last

but once I hold
the flowers
you give me

I turn into
a walking question mark

asking myself
why
I ever resisted
the beautiful
transient
happiness

disguised as
a dying
plant

"17 bullets in his body"

I'll never forget
those words
the doctor had said
while my man was on his death bed

17 bullets
17.

And it was the 17th of March

On our 17th anniversary
And I heard those words
At 1:07 am

17 bullets
and we were both 17 when we first laid eyes on each other
that day when you came over to our house with my brother
and it was the 17th of March

17.

Cuddled on a piece of ripped card board box
Bruised shins, ripped socks

Reeking with lack of love
A piece of neglected art

The sharp things below
are all your little feet may ever know

I wonder whats sadder,
your misty gaze into empty space,
or how common this is to the human race

You are not invisible, little boy,
but we are blind

and the biggest fool of all
is the one who left you behind

to collect
but you are worth more than this cold neglect

I don't need to know your story, honey
to know that you are worth more than pocket money

If only I can give you love
for that is all I can never run out of

but love never cured the sick
a hug never filled an empty stomach

so for now, here's a sandwich.

You are as bright as the sun, but my pupils will always dilate for you.

Dear soft autumn breeze,
you carry those leaves so gracefully
one by one into the sweet unknown

But I'm the tree
not ready to let go,
I'm afraid my green
is turning yellow

One sad day
my branches
will be empty,
and my color
will be plain

A mere request
might keep you
away

But leaves are called leaves
Because they leave
Don't they?

If everyone is special,
then no one is special.

It's all about
what you choose
to perceive-

You told me about this,
But I still liked hot dogs
What was a keyboard doing
running across mountains in the snow?

running away from the unsaid words?
break the vicious cycle!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
of dreaming about you...
eat them burgers and sing them anthems,  blaaah
don't forget to burn them bridges.


but don't burn yourself ...

cuz you're wearing my shirt

You were aiming for the moon,
lifting your head as high as your neck would let you

But as you were walking,
you forgot to look down

...
so you slipped and fell

Whatever it is
that closed your eyes
in a moment of confusion

taught you how to see
in darkness

A jungle.
So beautiful,
but dangerous.
Wild,
but serene.

You run your fingers
down the sulci of my brain
and read my all
like I'm written in braille

Our brains might mistake some actions for rudeness
when really the other person's brain is completely unaware of the capability of being misjudged.

After what we have ends,
I want you to know
that I'm okay.
I don't cry myself to sleep
neither do I stalk you on facebook

I don't talk to my friends about you
I don't stare at the pictures we took

I don't daydream about what could have been
I don't even remember that look...

That look you gave me when
you first saw me

the same look you gave me
when you said goodbye

The look you always gave me
when I wasn't even looking

The look I always loved..

I forgot it.

They say: You should always say what you feel.
But we all know that some things are better off unsaid.

Deaf people are sparking a conversation
But how to deaf people communicate
They speak- without relation
To each-other's state.

So imagine how many "I love you's"
Where rather not unsaid
Because in a world it doesn't matter who
Followed, and who lead.

In a world where,
Ideas do not spread,
People take their time to move ahead,
No one has anything to dread...

I am very well aware that it is a place
Where everyone is mislead.
Thus nothing can replace,
The beauty of the said

But imagine how many "I love you's"
Where rather not unsaid
Because in a world it doesn't matter who
Followed, and who lead.

The biggest excuse we tell ourselves is
"I don't have time"
We have 24 hours in a day.
We have nothing but time.
It's the skills to manage it that we lack.

You called me sugar
but sweetened your tea with **honey

An empty house
on a cloudy afternoon

If I had known
I would've packed my bags
And escaped this harsh reality

Surround myself with people
Drown all the muted silence

Dripping drops
In my kitchen sink
Wasting water
As I'm wasting ink

My therapist
Told me to write

So many times I've craddled a journal and caressed a pen
Only to find myself falling asleep
With the ink flowing on my skin
Like its trying to write something

I once woke up to an ink stain on my couch
Finally some color in this boring pastel house

An empty house
Isn't an empty home

Sometimes I forget

No thank you.
I think I'm going to stick with having real emotions,
And not being afraid to express them freely.
You should be proud too
Because if being a girl means having the ability to feel,
then we are all girls.

Pain is subjective
Showing it is selective

The mind
denies,

The eye
cries,

The heart
tries—
Not to feel— not at all.

This box
that surrounds you
is painted blue
from the inside
and green
from the outside

Having races brings me back to running rainbows
Jumping over dogs and pancakes
Shadows stretching beyond computers
Is it my imagination, or did the grass run home?
We are empty aluminium shining in the snow
This is how we eat 1000 GB of soil and lyrics.
We are not,
yet we are
reaching out to grab the tables

Children are dying...
I'm kicking back, with nothing to complain about, yet complaining.
While *children are dying
I'm dancing
to my favourite song with my pals and sisters.

While they bleed because of the blisters
caused by the wood of their broken homes.
Unheard screams and groans
Getting ***** by strange misters.
Bombs and grenades fall like raindrops from the sky

BOOM BOOM BOOM! The soundtrack of their lives
An endless lullaby
And they cry
and cry.
But I can't hear them,
for the music in my room is too loud.


                                    Children are dying*.

Speak to me about regrets
as you reassure me I'm making the right choice

Talk to me about the fragility of human beings
as you remind me how strong I am

Tell me about the human memory
as you promise you'll never forget this moment

Mutter that I'm perfect as I am
as you gently hint I should ditch my bad habits

Whisper 'forever' in my ears
as you explain that life changes despite all odds

I'm asking you to be honest

Speak the two voices in your head


Instead of sugarcoating my rocks
Please, put pebbles in my sugar

If you keep wanting what you don't have,
*you'll never have what you want

I would want you to be my star,
but then you would fade in the morning.

I would like you to be my sun,
but then you would set at night.

So maybe you could be my 'heartbeat,'
If it stops, I won't die from fright.

**I'm already dead.

And as you held your bags
preparing to leave,

I felt pain

the kind of pain you feel
when a terrible bruise starts to fade away
when you know the worst has passed

don't you get it?
you were my bruise

and despite the pain I felt
I am truly glad you left

We are all a burden
to many around us
but we are the burden
most of them want to carry
to feel joy
to feel need
to feel purpose

Our cells may age
but the metaphors
never do

Babies need their mothers
and their mothers
need them too

I held your hand
strongly, yet softly.

My fingers, were wrapped around yours
Together, they slid back and forth.

At times,

My nails pierced your skin,
as you tried hold my hand within

I'm a danger to you,
and so I've always been

As a child,
I used to run my hands
on the walls as I walked

Adults around
would warn me
about the filthiness
of those dust, graffiti,
*****, and poster covered walls

But touching them gave me
a weird sense of accomplishment
Like physical proof
that I was once here

moving forward

Today
I will not worry
what bacteria
this wall holds
what molds
have aged on its corners

Instead, I'll run my hands
with every step I take

smiling
because I am,
once again,
*moving forward

"Everyone can do it,"
she said,
and I thought she was indirectly
telling me that I can, too
But she wasn't.

She was merely telling me,
That everyone can do it.
Wondering,
why I can't.

We were uncertain
of each other's feelings
hoping
they would be as our own

When you said goodbye
for the last time
it moved my heart to the back of my throat
and and my tears to the back of my eyes

Every fiber within me was fighting for love
for you

Unaware, I ran
It felt as though my eyes were closed
and yet I still knew my destination,
It was you

Let me tell you one thing
before time alters this memory
Let me tell you that I love you
before you express your apologies and flattery

.
.
.


It embraces me,
the feeling I never want to forget;
when all nerves within me fired impulses
as you spoke "I love you too"

He is so mean to her for no reason.
She always wonders why...
Until one day,

she found him crying and asked what's wrong
boy: "nothing that you can help me with! leave me the hell alone!"
girl: "why do you hate me?"

boy: "I hate you because I can't have you"
girl: "why can't you have me?"
boy: "because I love you too much to accept you being with someone like me."

When you write the wrong words
don't erase them entirely

Instead,
scribble above them
and below them
the alternate spelling
and better-fitting synonyms

Sometimes you don't need a clean slate
You need the slate that carries pain and blood
Hate and love
Memories and regrets

What will one be
without mistakes
if not a blank page
with no name