currently i am not

     sad

        depressed

               lonely
  
alone

     self-loathing

             insecure
  
heartbroken

     nor breaking hearts


and that makes me feel quite
    
out of
             
               place
because i am surrounded by
  scars

     and tear-streaked (beautiful) faces

  bruised knees drawn up to chests

     dark empty rooms
  broken mirrors

     and trashcans filled

  with crumpled lists of mistakes
and if i could, 
i would take all the

  scars

    tears

     and lonely nights

from the hearts that are broken
                  
                      or breaking
and i wish i could
 cloak The Light i’ve found

    (or did It find me?)

      around cold shoulders

 and wash all the tired feet

   that’ve been blindly stumbling

      in the dark

although you've gotten taller,
your eyes have remained
the same shade of trusting brown
and deep down
you are still the little girl
who stayed up late
whispering secrets to her best friend
beneath flower patterned sheets

and you're still afraid of spiders
and you still cannot sit still
and as you grew up
you noticed that the world
is a lot smaller than it used to seem

and i think when you looked
into the wonder-filled eyes
of this little girl
you saw a reflection of yourself
and it reminded you that
although you’ve gotten taller,
your eyes have retained
that same glimmer of hope

Let's create something simple,
yet complex.
Like the iambic pentameter
that made Shakespeare famous,
years later.
Let's create beauty,
in a world where it diminishes with every second,
that passes by.
I wish to be simplistically complex, and beautiful, and am then greeted by the realization,
that it won't happen until it is my belief that it is true,
And if that is the case, I am doomed.
For clocks don't stop and wait for realization.
And mirrors are still believed to crack in my presence.
What a pity.