You are the sun and I the moon,
leeching off of your vibrant light.

You ask me to open up,
But I don't understand.
Have I not let down my walls for you?
Have I not let you into the deepest parts
of my heart and soul,
entrusted you with the darkest part of my being,
by letting you read my poetry?

Love, despair, loss, desire.
I imagine them so deeply
that when I blink them away,
I almost forget that they're fantasy.
Have I really never loved her,
lost them?
Have I truly not felt even a fraction
of that emotion that just engulfed me?

It's not my fault
that you've stolen my heart.

"How are you?"
Bad.
Disappointed.
Upset.
Frustrated.
Angry.
Heartbroken.
D­esperate.
Confused.
Lost.
Anxious.
Numb.
Broken.
Incomplete.
Depr­essed.
"Fine, you? :)"

So much to do, so little time with you left..

My mind morphed his evil grin
into a warm smile.

Kiss me.
Kiss me softly
as I drown in your honeycomb eyes.
Kiss me slowly
until I forget everything except the feel of your lips on mine.
Kiss me deeply
and let me believe that you truly want me.
Kiss me hard
so that I remember what it feels like to have passion.
Kiss me delicately
until your warmth dries my tears and washes my sorrows away.
Kiss me sweetly
and teach me what it means to love.
Then hold me tight
and never let go.

Why do our badly hidden lies
always end in anger-driven goodbyes?

As her purrs create vibrations in my chest,
I can't help but wish that if I were a cat
I would be purring as well.

Living vicariously through others' lives,
but it's still not enough..

For you, my dear poetry,
I will not stir up my emotions
I will create them.

For you, my dear poetry,
I will not lie,
I will create a fiction so delicate and complex
that it becomes my truth.

For you, my dear poetry,
I will not close myself off,
I will tear my body open
and let the demons take control.

For you, my dear poetry,
I will not become a better person,
I will bathe in my emotions
and revel in my despair.

For you, my dear poetry,
I will do anything.

Looking in your eyes
I know I'd do anything
just to make you smile~

The first time I heard you,
I already knew.
A good beat, nice melody
You were too catchy.

The first time I heard you,
my breath caught in my throat
As you were pronounced
my new favorite song.

The first time I heard you,
you were already stuck in my head
Playing on repeat as I stared out the window,
thinking of you instead of leaving my den.

The first time I heard you,
I tried to change the station
But you were playing on every one.

The first time I heard you,
I was already too deep in love
to let you go.

If the bar is low,
maybe I won't disappoint
you with my failures...

I wonder:
What are you hiding?
Because your eyes are so bright,
your smile so sincere,
your joy so prevalent.
How can it be real?

And if it is, what are the rest of us missing?

How could you?!
You said you loved me
You said you were getting better
You smiled, your real smile
that last day..

How could you leave me
with only the worn memories?!
We planned our future
together!
We stayed sane
together!
We survived
together!
How can you leave me like this?
Broken.
Torn.
You've killed a part of me that can never be replaced
without even letting me say goodbye..

I know you don't see me
I know even if you could, you wouldn't look
But I'll wave goodbye anyway.

You don't realize it,
But I do.
I know a comet when I see one.
I know power when I see it.
You may not have seen her full potential now,
She may have looked weak and dim,
Just a streak and then she's gone,
But you'll see.
When she comes around again
Her light will sear your eyes.
She will burn
Bright and hot.
She isn't a mirage, a fluke in our minds.
She's a powerhouse
And when she returns, she'll be ready
To kindle her flames
And live.

No.
She's not made of glass.
She's not worried about breaking.
She's not delicate.

Stop.
You don't know how she feels.
You don't understand why she doesn't want the spotlight.
You don't get what it's like.

Don't.
She wouldn't want you to talk about this.
She doesn't want them to know.
She won't want you to tell them when you have it all wrong.

Please.
Stop making assumptions.
Stop breaking her trust.
Stop talking for her.

Go.
This isn't what she wants.
This is why she's hesitant.
This is what she's afraid of.

Look closely,
Listen carefully,
But Do. Not. Touch.

They say I'm perfect.
They say they wish they were me.
I scoff in their face.

They don't know my life.
They haven't traversed my mind
or searched through my thoughts.

They know nothing of
what it is like to be me.
They don't get to say

That I am perfect
Any more than I can say
I know their life story.

I don't know your name,
your face,
your smile,
your persona,
your personality.

I've never laughed with you,
talked with you,
or seen you face to face.

But
I know your
wants,
your needs,
your losses,
your loves.
Your whispered secrets,
your dying voice,
your silent screams for help.

I know that I'll always save you,
reach out a hand,
and squeeze you so tight you can hardly breathe.
I'll always listen when you need me,
hurt when you hurt,
worry when you're silent.

You know me not by name,
but we've spoken once or twice.

I consider you a friend, and I hope you consider me one, too.
I just wish I could tell you how much you mean to me.
I wish you would believe me when I say that you are
loved,
wanted,
needed,
known.
Perfect in all of your flaws.

"I want to be just like you,"
I say to the decrepid old man.
"Just like you someday."

His laugh is raspy and thin
"My boy," he manages between his coughs,
"What is there left to desire?"

My giggle is the sound of songbirds
and churchbells ringing.

"Your eyes are bright,
they speak of hope and love.
Your mind is sharp,
full of lessons and wisdom.
Your mouth is tilted,
always curved into a slight smile.
Your wrinkles are deep,
laugh lines from years of use."

"But, my boy," he responds
in a gentle tone,
"My body is weak,
my hair is grey,
my brain forgetful,
and my money is none."

"And yet," I press,
"your gaze is soft,
your regrets are few,
your patience endless,
and your forgiveness infinite."

"And because of that," I conclude, "I want to be just like you."

W3n uu sae y0u're goiingg iNsAN3
My 3y3s wiDeN in SuRPrrisee
how h@veE u hE1D 0ff fr0M b33!Ng C@Ughtt
1n th3 syCle of 1!nS@n1tee fOr s0 l0nGg
when the R3st of us
r alr3@tee s0o t@Ngl33d uP !N 1t?!

I am high on life,
drowning in euphoria,
and drunk on loving.

All I want for Hanukkah is
for you to be happy.

All I want for Christmas is
for you to be loved.

All I want for Kwanzaa is
for you to be safe.

All I want for New Years is
for you to promise me
that you won't give up this year.

In the eye of the hurricane,
she dances by herself.

It’s your fault.
Three soft sounds, and yet I cower behind my delusions as they make themselves heard.
It’s your fault.
The words crash around my mind, shattering the translucent lies keeping me sane.
It’s your fault.
They tear through my life, upending my dreams and hollowing out my soul.
It’s your fault.
After enduring so much, all it took were three simple words to break me.

I have forgotten the greatest idea
the most powerful words
the most cherished memory.

I curse my brain for allowing me to lose them,
to let the images slowly fade away.

I curse it for taking away
what I loved and treasured
for so long.

And yet
isn’t it the same thing
that gave me those memories
created those words
formed those ideas?

Isn’t the very thing I’m cursing
what I should be treasuring
the most?

My life is like an iPad, once so full of energy and light.
Once so quick to learn, to play, to grow.

And then –
Broken.
Cracked.
Unfixable.

The light flickers out.
Abandoned.
Forgotten.
Worthless.
Replaced.

Because
Why would anyone see something in it?
Why would anyone try to mend the unmendable?

Right?

The silence is loud, pressing against tired ears.
Words waver and hesitate, caught between bated breaths.
I feel the glassy surface between us growing and reach out a hand
But just like the sounds, it slips away.

I never meant for it to go this far
That's what I said.
I never thought that I would fall
That's what I claimed.
And yet…

Anonymous means
that anything can be said
without consequence.

I'll always be there to cheer you up
even if the only way I can do that
is by bringing myself down.

The shadows creep into the corners of my vision
Cave in and surround me
as I let out a silent scream,
a final plea for the help I know I will never receive.
I bury myself in blankets,
lose myself in words,
dull my mind with glowing screens.
And yet, the darkness still draws near.

As my puffy eyes fall closed for the first time
in so, so long...
My mind slows and calms, the barriers falling
the guards leaving at the end of their shift
before the horrors arrive.

It's not long before I can feel the snake
slithering into my slightly parted lips
And sliding down my throat.
Red-rimmed eyes shoot open
and my gaping mouth chokes for air
as it smirks, eyes glittering with pleasure.
The monsters twist around my gut
nibble at my heart
lick their lips with delight
and eye their new victim's soul with desire.

They gently caress my stomach with their claws
leaving red gashes oozing with blood.
And just as I think I've found relief
in your worried blue eyes,
the puppeteers twist my face into a smile.
I feel myself nod and say, "Yes, I'm all good"
as I beg for somebody to hear me,
to stop this pain.

I'm answered with the infiltrators,
now massacring my happy thoughts
and filling my brain with fears.

"Useless"
"Failure"
"They never liked you anyway"
"They wish you were dead"
"Just leave already"
"Leave"
"Leave"
"Leave"

A chant,
a mantra
buzzing at the back of my mind
like a song on replay
always on the radio, no matter
how many times you switch the station.

Thoughts are spiralling
Kicking up the dirt
covering the casket
already set in the ground for me.

And on the tombstone,
"Death by a merciless enemy --
anxiety."

The soul hunters came for me the other day
but it was okay,
because I don't have what they want
anyway.

I had such a great thought
but its gone away now,
never to be heard from again.

I ordered a heart
but it came two sizes too small.
I ordered a soul
but it shrunk in the wash.
I ordered a body
but it didn't fit right.
I ordered a life
but it wasn't trendy anymore.
I ordered some love
but I guess it hasn't arrived yet.

He's not
kind,
caring,
selfless,
warm.

She's not
talented,
helpful,
transformative,
unique.

They're not
wanted,
needed,
loved,
known.

They're human.
And we're exactly the same.

If life was a book
or anything except this
We'd be together.

I am a house cat,
Roaring in the lion's wake.

Where did it all go?

I wake up
To a day half gone

A wise man thinks knowledge is power
A smart man thinks ignorance is bliss.

Why is it
That I am nothing compared to you

And yet
You call me your everything?

As I dream of dawn
Night conquers dusk yet again
Making worlds go dark

As dusk falls
and night conquers yet again
I dream of dawn.

Ideas swirl in my mind
Forming windstorms
That pick up scattered thoughts and words
and grow into tornadoes
that whirl across my mind.

They distract from life
From what's real
and what matters.

But when I sit down to write
They all flee in terror
And my pen hovers above the page
filled only with scribbled out phrases
and my own insecurities.

Why is it
That inspiration hits
at all the wrong times?

Wandering the woods,
no pen in sight,
and suddenly the greatest idea dawns on me.
Distracts from the nature and beauty around
as I repeat it again and again
in the hopes that it will be etched into my mind.

I rush to the place
where I can write it all down
where it can be remembered forever
But when I arrive
It is gone without a trace.

At night, when all is dark,
when silence is the key to survival,
it slinks into bedrooms
and curls up in tired minds.

Keeps me awake for hours,
only to disappear at the first sign of light
leaving me alone again.

And yet, I'll stare at a paper
For days, years, decades
And ideas evade me.
My mind is blank
as the sheet in front of me.

And nothing comes to mind.