maybe i'm not meant to be anything
maybe i'm just here to inspire the something
or maybe i'm as significant as a leave on the ground
once vibrant and green
now crushed beneath your feet

lately
i can’t bring myself to write
i think the words might be
too much
too true
i have nothing
nothing
but my truths
if i can’t write
about my truth
then what else do i have?

we all have habits
they make us who we are
they’re what makes us unique

the twirling of her hair
the nibbling of his nails
the tapping of their foot

you used to do this little thing
you’d touch the tip of your nose
in the peak of your amusement

you would fidget
usually with the hair tie at your wrist
you’d snap it constantly

you ran your fingers
through your hair
nervously working the nerves

sometimes when you were deep in thought
you’d chew on the inside of your cheek
i could always tell by the sour look on your face

and when you got embarrassed
you’d smile and bite your lip
and turn bright red

or how right before a performance
you’d thump a hand over your chest
a harmony to the heavy thudding of your heart

those were the things that made you you
the things you didn’t notice
the things nobody would unless they knew you

the way i knew you
knew
before everything changed

you’re still the same you, though
for the most part
people change, habits don’t

you still touch your nose when you laugh
you still snap your hair tie on your wrist
you still run your fingers through your hair

you still chew the inside of your cheek
you still bite your lip when you’re embarrassed
you still thump on your chest before a show

you’ve changed
but you’re still human
and humans are creatures of habit

i’m sorry i’m cautious
it’s not like i have much reason to be
just observations
mere contemplations

over how it would feel
to open my heart to someone
only for it to get trampled
i don’t want to be another example

of why we shouldn’t open
ourselves to people
when it just leaves us empty
it just doesn’t seem tempting

so why should i
when it comes to love
i don’t see the fuss
over people who don’t give a **** about us

my heart beats
each beat its own
thumping in my chest
painfully

a steady rhythm
a melancholy song
with my thoughts singing
hauntingly

i do not know
why i feel so empty
broken
alone
why i'm in so much pain
but i do know that this is the worst
it's ever been
but not the worst it'll ever get

i look at your heart
and see the broken pieces
left behind

but i wouldn’t dare
mention it because
mine is the same

i would understand it
how they treat me
if i were cruel
if i never tried
if i didn’t care
if i weren’t easy-going
if i had different friends
if i put up with *******
if i were quiet
if i couldn’t think for myself
if i were stupid enough to

except i’m not those things
so i don’t understand
i don’t understand how they could
walk all over me
ignore me
say mean things
lie to me
lie about me
patronize me
tell me to hush
put me down
make me feel like this

when all i ever do
is try my best
not to be like them

to be better

as i lay here
it's impossible
not to think about the good times
you loved anything that rhymes

how you'd make me laugh
how your touch would tickle
with just a few words
hushed whispers so no one else heard

your hot breath brushing my ear
your contagious laughter
how we never ran out of things to say
your brilliance brighter than a summer day

but now it's too late
you've moved on
and i thought i had too
clearly that's too good to be true.

what might have been
if only the grass weren’t green

what might have been
if only the sky weren’t blue

what might have been
if the rainbow were in a different order

what might have been
if noah didn’t build his arc

what might have been
if gravity didn’t hold us down

what might have been
if light were darkness

what might have been
if darkness were light

what might have been
if death were life

what might have been
if life were death

what might have been
if you were still here

what might have been
if you never left

what might have been
if you loved me

what might have been
if you never stopped

is this what a panic attack is?
a race horse instead of a heart
static numbness prickling fingertips
the weight of every insecurity sitting on my lungs
forcing a battle to be fought with every exhausting breath
spiders crawling to and from upon my spine
whispering my greatest fears
giggling at my mortality
weakness in every inch of my being
constantly under attack by my own body
my own traitorous body
hopelessness shredding my self worth
driving my fragile state into a frenzy

what’s one more rose
in a field of flowers?

what’s one more book
in a library of literature?

what’s one more tear
in a flood of water?

what’s one more voice
in a choir of song?

what’s one more feeling
in an ocean of emotion?

what’s one more protester
in a crowd of anger?

what’s one more cut
in a collection of wounds?

what’s one more body
in a graveyard of people?

what’s one more loss
in a world of death?

what’s the point
of one more anything?

funny how
with one sentence
you can change
everything
about a person

one thing
i do not need
is someone to piece me back together
when i want to be freed

i can’t take it
they don’t understand
what i want
it isn’t a man

i want to be myself
without you
without him
without anyone will do

i might be broken
but honestly i’d rather
be the one to put myself
back together

contradiction
con
tra
dic
tion
funny how many there are
in every aspect of life
except it isn’t
funny
at all

with a sunny day
there’s a stormy night

with a beautiful girl
there’s an ugly mind

with the blue water
there’s orange fire

with your long hair
there’s mine short

with your dark eyes
there are mine light

with your big smile
there’s my frown

with your extroversion
there’s my introversion

with your oblivity
there’s my meticulosity

with your whole heart
there’s my broken one

i might have thorns
spikes
spines
quills
barbs
splinters
but i have them for
the reason
i have them is to protect
my heart is very dear to me
she keeps me alive
and so i try to return the favor
sometimes
i may do so too well
and in a way that prevents
hinders
stops
adverts
thwarts
discourages
anyone from
picking me
might be the worst decision
you could make
me do things i’d never even
dreamed of being someone’s
first choice
but those pesky thorns
spikes
spines
quills
barbs
splinters
they do a **** good job
to make sure i don’t get ruined
by someone who’d be afraid
of my
thorns