She really wants him to be her lover but the deity decided to set a game of love where two souls were born almost at the same time but in a different place. Thus, their love story remains unknown to the both of them.

She doesn’t really know what she looks for in a man but her heart aches for someone she doesn’t even know.

He reminds her of the cherry blossoms in spring when she started falling for him. He reminds her of the rain and how it falls down just like how her tears would. He reminds her of a sad love song just like their sad love story. It’s like he’s actually there but she’s unable to touch him.

She knows she can just find another man to begin her love story with; someone she knows, verily. But the feeling won’t be the same.

She can’t seem to fathom why she loves that particular feeling of loving someone unknown even though it pains her. Indeed, she’s trapped by the love she has, only she doesn't want to break free.

How astonishing it is that an unknown man is capable of making her feel that way ― that no man she knows had made her feel.

She wants to find him and end her longingness but she doesn’t know how.

Even if she walks his street, they’ll less likely meet. It doesn’t happen easily. They’re not in the movies. She doesn’t even know who is she looking for. All she knows is that he’s there when spring comes, when the rain falls and when a sad love song starts to play.

Still, she’s uncertain if she will ever meet that man but maybe... that’s how the deity wants their game of love to be ― to remain unknown.

But no, she won’t lose to the deity’s game. She will find him and she will end the game. Their love will bloom in a different season. And he will no longer remind her of the rain and the sad love songs. He will no longer be someone unknown and they can finally begin their love story.

That, she promised.

Who am I?
I am human

Girl or boy?
I am human

Short or tall?
I am human

Fat or thin?
I am human

Before you make your judgments
Give me time of day
I am, you are, we are
All as one the same

This world does shape and mould us
Builds us, gives us time
to become who we are
take ownership of what's mine

And what's mine is my body
What matters? nothing else
We are equal until we use what's our
to shape somebody else.

Are we equal?
this question has been asked several times,
and it will be asked several more.

If you were to ask me,
we aren't.
No one is equal,
because no one is the same.

If humans were equal,
then you could hire any one of us,
to do the same job.

Should we be treated equal?
Now that's a totally different question.
But still,
my answer is no.

If you were to treat,
a mentally handicapped person,
the same as someone who is not,
mentally handicapped,
it would be considered wrong by the general public.

This is why I say,
that humans should be treated with equity,
not,
equality.
This is also the #1 problem,
with the United States school system.

The quality of being fair and impartial.
This is the definition of equity.
When you treat someone this way,
they stand a fair trial.

But when you teach someone,
the same exact way,
and the same exact material,
that you teach to someone completely different,
it is unfair,
and it is partial.

Einstein once said,
"Everybody is a genius.
But if you judge a fish,
by its ability to climb a tree,
it will live its whole life,
believing that it is stupid."

In today's age,
every single person is expected to be a monkey,
and everyone that isn't,
is judged,
and ridiculed,
for being a fish.

This poem is for the *******.
The ice princesses.

Solid and frozen.
Hearts carved from arctic stone.
Jaw lines so sharp they could *cut you.
Girls so bitter, *they bite.

Leave your mouth aching.

This is for the evil stepsisters,
The Ursulas,
The Queens of Broken Hearts -

I’ll tell you.
They are deadly beautiful.

They are the bossy, and the terribly too honest.
Mouths on fire,
jaws snapping,
man eaters,
sirens of the sea,
they will swallow you whole.

When the boys ask -
Tell them, no, I don’t need saving.

**** being a princess.
Be the dragon.

Be fire breathing, and pmsing.
Be angry, girl.

Cause you got **** to be angry about.

Every cat call –
Every glass ceiling you will shatter with your bare hands –
Every time you say the word no and mean it –
Every time they make you feel like you anything less than powerful.

You tell them –
You are eternal.

That you carry a generation in your belly -
That it all begins and ends here, inside you.

That you can bleed for seven days straight and come back with teeth sharpened for war.

Remind them that that when something is taken from you, you will do everything you can to get it back.

You will destroy what destroys you.
Eating fire and spitting brimstone.
And never, ever saying sorry.

They will call you crazy.
They will call you over emotional.
They will call you loud mouth.

They will ask for your smile, pretty girl.
Give it to them with poison ivy lips and a razor blade between your teeth.

What no body knew was that Ursula was King Triton’s sister.
A perfect storm.
Banished from the palace -
When a loud, powerful woman gets out of hand, we don’t call it leadership.
We call her dog.
*****.
Bossy.
Fangs out and snarling, we don’t battle, we cat fight.
**** kitten gone wrong, when she learns to leave scars.

A dog, no not a dog, a wolf in heat.
Domestication is a ***** word.

***** is to know your worth, and take it.

To carry it in your esophagus.
A war cry.
Feeding your enemies to your children, and coming back starving for seconds.

Doing anything to stay alive.

Because you were raised by a mother who fed you fear for supper.
Packed your backpack with mace, and brass knuckles.
She told you to turn your body into a weapon.
She knew there would be men who would try to cover your mouth.
So she taught you to bite.

This is how you protect yourself.
A mouth full of *****, and a bark to match.
“Beware of dog” sign around your throat.

This is how you keep them away.
This is how you warn them.

Because the villain was not always the villain.

She was made that way.
You were made this way.

You’ve got brands still healing, still smoking, skin still searing.
You’ve got a trauma written in your blood.
You’ve got a ribcage holding onto your heart too tightly.

You are chasing down a revenge so sweet it could rot your teeth.
A heart attack romance asleep in your chest.

You will come back home limping after this war.

And you will tell all the other girls -

It ain’t all about the love story.
**It’s about the “being in love with yourself” story.

Did you hear the that goes
“Everytime I try to make a **** joke,
It just comes out a little too…
Forced.”

Did you hear the one about
The girl who had to pull her
Best friend
Drunk, crying, and vomiting,
From her best friend’s car?

They’re both pretty funny,
Aren’t they?

It’s hilarious that
A 15 year old girl
Sits in a clinic,
Waiting to see
If she is pregnant
Or if maybe she has
An STD.
She feels ***** and
Ashamed,
Feeling like it’s her fault
Because that’s what
Society tells her-
It’s her fault because
Of what she was wearing.

It’s even more funny that
She sits there alone,
Because she’s too
Ashamed to ask for help.

It’s hilarious that a
Little boy,
With tears streaming down his face,
Thinks that what she did to him
Wasn’t ****,
Because society tells him
That real men can’t be *****,
He should’ve liked it,
That he’s lucky because
She was good looking.

It’s hilarious that when you make **** jokes,
You’re almost as bad as the ******.

You’re normalizing his actions,
Making him feel proud,
And that what he did
Is just a process of life,
That what he did is normal.

So instead of asking me why I don’t find **** jokes funny,
Let me ask you
Why you do.

When we feel heavy,
We shed tears
Like raindrops falling
From the clouds
Which could no longer
Bear its weight.
The same thing with us,
We cry
When we could no longer
Hold inside our hearts
All the emotions
We are feeling.

I’m fighting my tears
all day
every day
What have I done
please tell me
what have I done
to deserve all this pain
I need answers
why am I fighting
please tell me

*(s.m)

I care.
and its the one thing that causes me the most pain.
It breaks me to see and to discover that the people that I care for the most don't care at all, not necessarily for me. But not at all completely.

I have felt the deepest pain due to this "problem"
and no, I can't just stop caring.
Its not that easy.