I feel bad for the Moon who burns my skin
It wasn’t her fault, but rather her lover’s
Skin once milky white -
Now swathed in blistery red
What was once a warm embrace -
Now needles in my veins
That deceiving Sun
Who once kissed my flesh into a blush
Has abandoned me to the agony of nightfall
And here I sway among a sea of grass caked in Summer's tears
Shaking my fist angrily at the Moon
Whose glow neither harms nor heals me -
But reveals her lover's trickery

Forever was just
an excuse
to be
close to you.

If words had wings
and birds had words.
What would we
hear from the words the
birds would sing?
Words of the hardship
of the wing.
Or songs of love that
lovers sing?

I kept chasing
you, as if
you were
a distant dream.
But dreams
are not always
dreams.
Sometimes, we have
nightmares too.

My family tells me I'm beautiful.
But only if they knew,
the pain I go through,
At school. Where people
laugh at you,
and only tear you down.
I work so hard to put on a smile.
After being at school for awhile.
Your walls are built so strong,
nobody can break them down.
You isolate yourself from the world.
That only brings you pain.

"She was an
unusual dresser.
Every night,
she wore bruises
on her heart,
love on her lips,
pain in her eyes,
and ink on her fingers.
They called her poetry."

roses are red
night is dark
writing this poem
hurts my heart

shaky sobs
like violets, i'm blue
i'm wondering
why i ever loved you