*** when you're in love is amazing, you can have awkward moments but not care and just laugh it off.
You are comfortable enough to ask for certain things, positions and do what you know the other likes.
But when that *** is expected from you, everyday, and there is no time to think "I want to have ***"
All you think is "I love him and if I don't **** him, he'll leave"
You lose that spark.
The way your heart use to race at his breath on your neck or his hand moving to lift your shirt off, just evaporates
*** turns into a chore that you have to do daily, like doing the dishes or going to work
It's not longer something that you desire but something you just know has to happen at some point that day.
Love exists without ***, and *** can exist without love.
But to keep that love, there shouldn't be the need for ***.
Don't tell them "it's *** with you, or I find it with someone else"
*** isn't a chore, and it isn't the key to love.

Music was my way to drown out what I would feel,
trying to deny that it was real.
My skin would suffer from what I would do to myself
I couldn't take my mind off the silver object hidden on my shelf.

The silence of my bedroom
ultimately crated violence.
The things that left me horrified,
I saw constantly glorified.

While the most beautiful things can be birthed from pain,
The pain was not what was to be desired, the constant drain.
No one should ever think that the fear of gain makes you strong,
It should not be the subject in a song.

Blood stained wrists are not romantic,
It is caused by pain overly titanic.
Don't try to relate self horror,
With being an explorer.
                                                    Beauty is Beautiful,
                                                        Pain is Painful.

Lucy was in the sky,
eyes shining like diamonds.
She knew she could never die.

Her hair melted in with the tree's roots
The blues mixed with the greens,
and she was wanted by every teen.

Best friends with Alice,
Too beautiful to be ignored,
was forever filled with a silent malice.

Lucy made us all feel endless,
Colors looked better
Everything left us breathless

Lucy and Alice always together
Life is so much sweeter
Now that we're all light as a feather

Yesterday morning I remembered the comfort of hunger pains.
I ate as little as possible at lunch,
and didn't eat when I got home.

For the first time in almost a year,
I skipped dinner
and looked at photos of bodies I wanted to have.

For so long I was able to eat without worry,
and I never thought about skipping meals,
I was able to change the idea of a "weight goal"
To simply having a goal to be happy.

What is happening to me?

I used to admire Van Gogh for how lovely he could make simple sunflowers look,
But then I saw you,
and I wonder how jealous Van Gogh would be of your beauty.

The most beautiful day I have ever known is not the day we first kissed,
Nor the day you first said that you loved me.
It was the day that you said three different words.
That night in your old bedroom when you told me I was the one.
I had never known what it was like to be so happy that I'd cry,
Until that day.

I will not compare thee to a summer's day,
but I'll compare the day to you
Every night without you I'll shiver because no amount of warmth will compare to feeling of having you lay down next to me.

You're the "he" in all of the writings,
and the reason why I write at all these days.
You're in every song I hear
and every movie I see.
You're the one who keeps me up till 1 a.m in the middle of the week because I was thinking of writing this very poem for you.
You're the reason why I finally understand why I never died when I attempted suicide,
and I'll keep you in mind every time I am able to eat without worrying about the calorie count.
You're the reason why I know why people cry from happiness,
You're the only reason why I can picture a future for myself, and that future is with you.
I'll stare into you're eyes for hours,  comparing them to the coffee I drink every morning,
and wake every morning waiting till the day you are there.
I'll lay in your arms and dream of the day when goodbye's won't last for months at a time.
When my home is your home as well,
and when all the distance is nonexistent.
To when I can see your smile in more than just a picture,
To when goodnight kisses turn into good morning kisses.
To when you can hold me at night if I start having panic attacks again,
and to when you can remind me to eat dinner when I forget.

They say that if a writer falls in love with you, you can never die.
Yet I feel it is the same for writers themselves.
Falling in love can be the inspiration behind works of art.
Your love is the very reason why I breathe,
and the motivation behind every stroke of my paint brush,
and every word I type or write.