Color me grey because all I see is black and white. I want to be the in between, the fluid perspective of this messed up world.

I want to walk without shoes on the streets of hate because I want to feel the world through every gap between my toes.

Maybe a rock will lodge itself under my skin so that I can grow into something the world would be more proud of.

I want to flow with each breath of the wind. Baring the news of open minds, breaking through their fine lines, leaving cracks in the pavement behind me.

Do you remember when we were young? The world was our plato.

Society taught us that we could mold it into anything we desired, but look around you.

Our World is a lie, a compilation of our hopes and dreams crushed and spattered across the borders of our minds.

In return, society has turned us into bigots and bullies. Get your crap together. ***** war, condone peace. Freedom isn’t confined to the colour of our skin, who we love, or gender expression.

Take me back to when times were hard because I’m sick of being a part of the underprivileged youth.

I want to feel every blow to my body just as if they were my own.

To respect the actions of the past may be repeating the injustices that have been made, but when all is forgotten how is this pathetic world suppose to function?

Crowded city streets filled unfriendly strangers, suburbans and small towns packed with unjustified judgment and whispers of hate.

To the Little queer boy on the rural streets of Indy, you keep holding on to that boy’s hand.

To my soul sister from another mother, keep preaching your kindness even though there are still people out there who will categorize you by the colour of your skin.

To anyone out there that has a problem with the queen’s language, don’t you ever let anyone convince you that you are stupid.

To all those who reside in my community, I promise that you are not going to hell.

Don’t run from the hate. Embrace it. Band together, create a shield with your compassion. A wise man once said, “be the change that you want to see in this world.”

Burn a hole in the back of my mind with the genocides of time. Let me feel the way you did so that maybe I can create a better future.

My love needs to be put to better use.

If they could hear my words I would hope that it would grant them with humbleness because they’d know that they caused inspiration for the future.

For all the writers that have ever taken a pen to a piece of paper until their fingertips bled.
For those who broke down the barriers with chants of the future that they were born to create.

Let freedom ring from every heart and soul in this nation.

Just maybe if we remember the words of the King, we’d finally be free.

I’m just going to sit here and pretend that I didn’t just volunteer myself to the hospital.

I’d like to believe that I am going to have someone waiting for me when I get out because I know that I won’t… besides my mom who, bless her heart, loves me, but I mean I want someone to cuddle me and
tell me that they missed me.

Hold me in their arms and beg me never to leave again.

In all honesty, no one is going to care.

This is why I am a wreck, can’t you see?

No one ever acts like they love me.

No one ever takes time to stop and care about me.

Touch my heart; fill every inch of my soul.

If I can’t figure out how to fix myself then how is any other person suppose to?

I mean, I have never wanted to **** myself, not exactly, but lately I haven’t been able to function properly.

I honestly have no idea what I’m living for and I am slowly withering away.

Please tell me that I am not the huge mistake that I believe myself to be.

Please tell me that whatever it is that is plaguing my mind isn’t trying to **** me.

Please tell me that these tears aren’t for nothing.

Tell me you love me.

Not because I told you to, but because you mean it.

Every inch of my mind spattered with feelings of remorse and worthlessness.

I have no reason to feel this way.

Why do I feel this way?

Give me a reason not to feel this way.

Fix me!

I can’t handle this anymore.

Slowly but surely I am tearing at the seams.

My joints and my veins are tearing from my body, but if no one else can see them.

Does this make me crazy?

My demons haunt me like a cup of coffee that keeps me up all night.

I often times, say that I love coffee even though it makes my skin crawl.

Maybe I just enjoy the torture that comes with the sorrow soaked caffeine.

Constantly searching for something harmless enough to torture myself without killing my soul.

The severity of my situation may never be shown, but I just need you to know that it’s there.

I can hear the soft patter of the raindrops on the tin above me as I sit quietly on the porch.

My feet are hanging off the edge of the steps, out of the protection of the roof.

My socks are wet, but I don’t care because I am nearly soaked to the bone.

Summer rain used to mean nothing to me until you came around.

The rain falling so gently on driveway puddles remind me of a painter with a canvas.

Every drip creates a ripple that expands, running all the way to the puddle’s edge, just as an artist would gradually cover a canvas with paint.

That rainfall was art and you were the inspiration.

Take me back to that moment.

So young.

So in love.

My window sill doesn’t give me that same comfort.

As I open my window to feel the cold night air, I looked up at the sky.

I admire the clear night and the stars all around me, I take comfort in knowing that we sleep under the same sky.

My eyes settle on one star. As I gaze upon it admiring its beauty, I find myself pondering if you were looking at the same one.

You were so beautiful; I used to say that the stars blessed you.

For lack of better words you shined brighter than all of the diamonds in the sky. You were to sun to my solar system.

Your eyes, bright hazel.

I remember, I never could compare them to something as gorgeous as you so I always just said that they reminded me of a perfect cup of coffee.

If there was one thing we shared, it was our love for coffee.

I used to imagine that the sweet aroma of each cup that I made each weary night we spent together, smelled exactly like you.

The rich smell sent my mind on a journey through space and time, creating the perfect image of your touch; forever engrave in my pallet.

That’s what love is, isn’t it?

It turns us in to gullible fools, our minds just as twisted and jumbled as blended coffee.

Each cup of it imagined to appear to be as cold as your heart became.

I have a permanent brain freeze from loving you.

My mind caught in a frozen stasis, allowing all thoughts only to travel back to you.

You molded me into your perfect coffee bean. When every *** of me was gone you tossed out my film.

Used me for your fix, and then threw me away.

I’m all used up and forgotten.

My insomniac ways beg me not to wake this early in the day, but the smell of coffee beans awaken my soul.

It’s been 5 days since I’ve seen the light and my cosmonaut tendencies have gotten the best of me.

Each night I take a trip to the moon and back, collecting some stars along the way.

My soul thrives on stardust and my heart pulses with the moon.

My spirit, a wolf in the dead of the night, lurks in the shadows; Reaching out to every inch of the universe.

Just searching for the peace and serenity that comes with being one with the universe.

My soul may be a thousand years old, but with each new day I am born again.

Maybe that’s why I am afraid of the light.

You left a coffee stain on my heart and though the strings couldn’t bare to part with any fiber of your love, my body resents you.

I broke. She broke me. I’m broken. Can’t you see that I’m broken?

She has hurt me in ways that you could never imagine, bound my heart to her soul in more ways than any one person could think possible.

She twisted my veins, intertwining them with her heart.

I wish she could see the way that I could.

Love is such a fragile thing, but when you use it and abuse it you learn more things than you would ever find in a text book.

Love, you tug at my heart strings. Took everything that I am and tossed it aside like one of your ****** up love poems.

Crumpled me up in the night then threw me away in that soiled trashcan in the corner of your room.

Let the lyrics of my love for you slip away in the night.

I hope every syllable leaves a shadow of my kiss on your lips, turning the sweet nectar of your raspberry lemonade chap stick to chilling memories of the ice in your soul.

My bones ache from your frigid love. Our partnership was always more than bad news.

Before you ripped my heart in two, you turned it into tissue paper.

It got thinner and thinner each time it broke, turning something so strong into something now so weak.

The storm of our love created a river that may not have ran smooth, but I loved her anyway.

You taught me to love each fragment of danger along the way; taught me to use each crack of thunder and each flash of light, to my advantage.

My love for her grew as deep of the depths of her heart until the day she set me free.

That must have been the night it flooded, wasn’t it?

Our love was like a reckless storm. Two fronts clashing, composing a volatile connection that sent everyone running, but you thrived in the chaos didn’t you sweet pea?

You always used to tell me that I was the lightning to your thunder, but every time I struck, I could feel you slipping away from me.

No amount of sorrow will ever erase the image of her from my mind, the taste of her in my mouth.

She was my favourite cup of coffee and my only sweet dreams.

Her shadow haunts me like a silent plague, keeping me awake in wee hours of the night.

Maybe I just need some tea to replace the bitter taste in my mouth, but until that day she will forever be the reason for my insomniac ways.

You are like toxin. Just the simplest thought of you can send my body into a figurative halt.

My heart stops.

The constant reminder of how volatile our union was stuck like gum to the fibers my brain.

My perpetual hate reminds how much I love still you. Yet I hate you.

I don’t know if it was your coy nature or the way that you made me feel like I mattered for once in my life.

But you will forever be engraved in my body; my organs will never part with the thought of your touch.
You are still the reason I cry at night and the reason I cannot love more than lust.

You destroyed me. Taking every fiber of my being and rewriting it to fit you and you only.

You don’t want me, yet no one else can have me. It’s like a curse that will never be lifted.

Whenever I looked at you I saw wedding bells and children and a house in the mountains with all the glorious passionate love that you promised me.

Now, I see how stupid I was. How completely crazy insane I must have been to believe that someone as cold as you could ever build something to last.

You flooded my chest with tea and washed out with coffee. Only to leave what had yet to be stained with a red blotch in the shape of your lips on the lining of my heart.

You make me sick. I am ill with the corrupted grunge stain that your love left behind.
I love you, but I ******* hate you. And I cannot even begin to think that I will ever be able to love again.

Your voice was soft and there was something about your disposition that could just lull me to sleep. It’s not because you were boring, hell I could listen to you for hours.

No, you were gentle with every word that you spoke almost as if you were tiptoeing around the harness in this world. You candy coated it for me, almost like you were protecting me from something.

I remember the night I met you, the second you gazed upon me with those pool-blue eyes, was the moment my heart started play a soft concerto of love.

It hasn’t stopped since. You were the muse to the melody of every step I took. And in the first month that

I knew you, I was born again.

I dragged my feet on the sidewalk every night I went to get a cup of coffee. Along the way I’d coach myself.

My insomniac ways needed to learn to take in the night air with each stride, allow my chest to beat with all that I feel.

Every day is a new day and so is the moon, and just maybe you could teach me how to fly because baby you make my heart sing.

For each night that dragged me out just so that my drooping eyes could find something sweeter to look at than the cold air above my bed.

Each and every night that I’d find you again in that that coffee shop window, my heart composed a new tune.

I swear by now, my body has created an infinite number of songs for you.

One night, I said that my love for you shined brighter than the solar system and spanned wider than the universe.

I guess my cliché cosmonaut tendencies rubbed off on you because you asked me if I ever wanted to travel to the moon. And I said that I’d only do it with you by my side.

That was the night that I knew that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you.

But bend and break comes hand in hand with eve and flow.

Bind my soul to everything I crave then toss me aside like I’m nothing.

There’s something about this silence. It sends chills through my entire body.

The fear of being alone strung through the back of my brain. Leaving my head caught in a whirlwind of thoughts, a warpath of emotions.

That’s what you did to me.

Leaving every fiber of my being screaming for help, red tunnel vision in sight. Screaming, but with no audible words.

You played with heartstrings, turning my vital organs in to sick love puppets.

The butterflies that rage in the pit of my stomach suffocating me as they crowd the back of my throat.

Our love was like a thunderstorm, two fronts clashing, composing a volatile connection that sent everyone running.

You knew the rain was coming and so did I. I was a fool to think that you would stay, but I was enchanted by your soul. Put under a spell by those swimming pool blue eyes.

I loved you, and in return you taught me the greatest lesson in life. Don’t love someone, it hurts too much.

With each tear that falls down your cheek, my heart breaks a little.
And as I stand watch a thousand miles across this lake that is compiled of the sorrows of those who condemn you, those who confine you to the smallest of boats, leaving you without a paddle, small frustration inside my soul is keeping quite.

Suppressing the raging fire that may or may not be blazing over the feelings inside my chest that act as an answer to the quiet torture that you suffer.

You fight your fires with deep breaths and words of wisdom but you and I both know that to those outsiders, your breath has been wasted.

Ignorance has presented itself to you as a new brand of earmuffs; tougher than a brick wall and more smothering than motherly love.

When you cry I often imagine what it would be like to drown in the flood of your frustrations and though you are miles away I can still feel it, leaving me soaked to the bone.

None of this is any of my business; it is not my place to be the lifeguard of that lake.
The saltiness of the water stings when it touches my soul giving off this feeling of urgency to throw you a life raft and pull you to my side.

I know that you are a good swimmer, but, maybe I will be your life guard anyway.