i. Cut your heart open
Take a knife, twist your heart open. Watch as everything you have bottled up
spill on the floor. Break it into pieces and trample on the glasses. Listen to
what it’s trying to tell you. Uncover every hidden desire and side-swept secrets.
For once in a long time, be honest with yourself. You’ve spent so much time
locking everyone out. You’ve even kept your own identity from yourself. This is
how you start writing a poem: Cut your heart open, be honest with yourself.

ii. Give yourself the freedom to feel
Face yourself. Touch your reflection if that’s what makes you real. Remind
yourself of your inner core and get rid of your inability to feel. For so long
you’ve masked the pain, ignored the numbness and forgot about the rain.
Feel the anger running in your veins because of all the time you’ve wasted
on someone who never deserved your love. Let a river’s load of tears gush
out your eyes, feel the despair of how you have loved but lost. Feel the loathe
you have for yourself because you’re so pathetic; because no matter what
you’d do anything to have him back. Clutch your chest as you feel the
physical ache in your heart because it’s broke and distorted in a way
it’s never been before. This is how you make a poem great: Give
yourself the freedom to feel, share with the world your raw emotions.

iii. Take the bitterness and turn them into pretty words
Take a paper and pen. Translate the way you feel onto a clean sheet of paper.
This is the only time you’ll ever have a clean start again. Take all the words
you have at the back of your mind and write them down. Let the pain and the ache,
the anger and the hurt, make their way on the paper. Don’t think too much
about it, the words you have they’re all who you are. Tell the story you’ve
kept in for so long and let them glide from the pen through the paper. Write
all you think that is necessary. Don’t think about what people will say. Because
a poem is a poem, it’ll be bitter and pretty. That’s the glory in the poem, it’s
ambiguity. This is how you write a poem: You stay bitter yet it will come out
pretty. No matter the bitterness, you always have the ability to make it pretty.

Please
Tattoo the words
I am not good enough
Into my skin
So I will never trick myself
Into thinking otherwise
Because when I think perhaps
I am
My pride falls out of my chest
And drags on the ground
Leaving behind each broken piece
That I'll never be able to find
To put myself
Back together
So please
Save me the embarrassment
Carve the words into my skin yourself
So I won't have to

Everything I touch,
Feels like a memory,
Of when you touched me,

Can I ask why you're still here,
Cluttering my mind,
Dominating my thoughts,
And making my body ache with longing,

Touch me,
Or walk away,

The choice is yours,

But I have no choice,

You have burrowed yourself under my skin,
And I can't find a knife sharp enough to,
Dig,
You,
Out.

"Don't you want me to enjoy myself"
Because without agreeing
To everything he asks of me
He cannot enjoy himself
Because everything I do for him
Is not nearly enough for him to enjoy himself
"Why would you look at other naked girls?"
I had to ask full heartedly
"Isn't my fault you don't send me pictures"
As if my body in his bed everyday
Cannot satisfy what he wants
As if my giving, warm hands
Holding every bad day he has
Cannot satisfy what he wants
AS IF my over sized heart
Staying through all of the bad times
Cannot satisfy what he wants

I am not sure anymore
If he deserves the satisfaction
Of enjoyment

His warm smile kisses my deepest pain
While I watched my own sadness **** the sunset in his eyes
The monsters in my head
Are the same monsters who swallowed his happiness
Our fire was no longer beautiful, but dim
It eventually burnt out,
and turned everything darker than
the night
He stopped telling me I was lovely;
And I stopped feeling safe in his embrace
My desire to be adored
Left us lost and broken
...

I tell you it’s dark inside 

You say turn on a light

I say it hurts my eyes

I’ve gotten use to the dark 

I can feel my way to my heart 

And lay down on its surface

I can tiptoe my way

Around hopelessness 

Slip on a few things 

But not fall

But you’re still new to it 

You still trip on my

Newly discovered fears

Still drown in my overwhelming 

Sea of sadness 

You've gotten bruises

From slipping on my silence 

You have fallen on my weariness

And I’m sorry 
I never meant for it 

To swallow you too 

Loving you makes a difference 

But you can't fix a ****
With nothing but a twig 

You can take a horse to a spring 

But you can't make it drink 

You can love me all you want 

But I have to learn 

To love myself 

Enough to turn on the light 

I will try to ease my eyes
to the light 
But fire eventually burns out
Even candles know that

I’m sorry I’m not okay 

I wish I was

If only it were 

To be well enough 

To look into your eyes 

And not feel like I’m drowning

To be able to feel 

The trace of your hands on mine

And not wish you didn’t have to

Feel the scars 

I’m sorry I’m not okay 

I really wish I was 

If only to be able to tell you
How much I love you 

Enough to not die for you

Enough to live with you