Make the first move
Go on, I dare you

Make the first move
Before I lose control, ****** I miss you

My arm is covered in wounds and scars
but if you grab my heart from my chest
I'm sure you'll find so much more

I hate how I feel like I'm forced to write in school
Forced to write about a topic I hate
Restricted to few sentences
Forced to write about something I barely understand
Required to go on for 3 pages

Isn't writing supposed to be fun?
Something free, something that's in MY control
Something that no one can call wrong
Something that expresses who you are

And that is why I love poems
I feel like a gazelle in a vast field
Free to do anything, to write anything
Where my deepest thoughts meet the paper
Where I control every word, every phrase
No one can ever tell me I'm wrong
Because
How can feelings be wrong?

Smoking is dangerous to your health
Millions of times I've heard that line
Of course it's too late once they realize it
Kissing death, breathing in little murderers
Intoxicating yourself, paying companies to **** you
Nothing good comes out of smoking
Gambling with life and death

Killing you, breath by breath by breath
It's never too late to quit but if you dont,
Life will eventually catch up with you
Letting you know your time is done but just remember
Smoking is dangerous to your health

When I rub my hands together
Atoms explode in between my fingers
Like how my heart is about to explode
When I'm with you

A fire alarm goes off
Alarming everyone with its loud sound
Exactly how my heart screams your name
When I'm with you

But that's the thing--
I'm not the one with you

If you're so bad for me
Then tell me, why
Do the best parts of me
Come out when I'm with you?

Look closer and see
The flawed, real me
And if you wish,
Stay, give me a kiss

Look closer and see
The goodness in me
Like no one else has
Maybe this time, it'd last

If you ask me out
Through a poem
I might not have the power
To resist and so I'll have to say
Yes

The truest you is the you when you were a kid
I was a writer, mom said
"Poems by the age of 4!"

Growing up, I seemed to forget
How to arrange words into stanzas
How to express myself

But you
oh you
You awoke the sleeping poet inside of me
Someone whom I thought died a long time ago
Someone whom I thought I'd never see again

You awoke me
And made me feel things
I never thought I could feel
And write things
I never thought I could write

Because of you, I found my way back to myself

I hope to be found, by myself through myself
I hope to be found, before it's too late
I hope to be found, so I can be pulled when I'm not in too deep
I hope to be found, even in my darkest days

I hope to be found, by someone who loves me
I hope to be found, by love that consumes me
I hope to be found, to be cared for, to be saved
I hope to be found, to belong somewhere safe

I didn't know what love was
til I met you
I thought I knew what hurt meant
but I guess I was wrong
You opened my eyes
to new things
You opened your arms
for me on my saddest days
but most especially
You opened my heart
to new feelings

I thought what we had
was 'love'
But until now
I still don't know
what 'love' is
But I surely do know
what hurt is

It's so selfish
to not want
to go to school
while others work
so hard
just to get some education

So today I saw your instagram
Again...
I mean not that I'm trying to avoid it

...
Ok fine maybe I am
And maybe I miss you
Just a bit kinda a lot not so much

Maybe I still think about you
When I shouldn't

What I should've realized
Long before
Is that
Loving you
Was always and forever will be
A choice
Which was mine to make

And this time
I choose not to

How many times do you say "I'm fine"
But really mean "No, it hurts too much & I can't take it anymore"

How many times do you say "It's okay"
But it really isn't

How many times do you say "Everything's fine"
But really everything's falling apart and nothing's right

How many times do you say "I'm sorry"
But really mean "That's right, you deserve to be hurt anyway"

How many times do you say "I love you"
But don't really know what 'love' means

How many times do you say these things
Not 'cause you mean it
But just because it was the right thing to say
Or to simply cover yourself up

How many times do you wish there was someone
To hold you at night
Who understands, who knows everything behind what you're saying
And will love you for it

I feel like a writer
Trapped inside a body
Which has absolutely no idea
How to put
Thoughts into words

How funny is it
That I found my own comfort
With merely my ears

I often think of endings for my poems
But I just don't know where to start
Maybe because that's what matters --
The end, not the start