You only wear dark clothes when you're sad
now you're wearing black

My hands are the coldest you’ll ever hold
I think my heart is too

I’ll never be big
or small enough to fit in your arms
                                              I always kiss
   the wrong person goodnight

Now ask me how many times you kissed me
then how many times I actually felt something

          Maybe we are just  a lesson that
has gone unlearned
                        Or maybe I just don't know how to end this.

Me and you
We're alike.
The way we keep our hearts chained in our chests
So no one has a chance to break them.
Because there were the boys who crawled into our rib cages
And figured out the quickest way to squeeze all the red out of our love.

For you,
It was the boy with the fish-hook smile,
Who you let hold your hand
While he spoon-fed you lies.
And once he got bored with his own fabrications
He reeled himself up,
And left you with watery lungs
Now you chase after boys
while you wear that same smile
Hoping that
"maybe this time I'll learn my lesson,"
Because now you know how to change the hook on your line.

For me,
It was the boy who lost his heart
Long before he could give it.
And I realized that giving him mine
Wouldn't give him feeling in his empty chest.
It would just make mine emptier.
Now when boys leave after
I've taken too long to make up my mind
They say I'm heartless
And I agree.

After awhile,
Girls like us stopped hiding their hearts in our chests.
Instead we hid them in castles
Because we knew no one would look for them there.

Please don’t call me beautiful
when your hands are between my legs,
and god forbid you say it as a seg-way
between you’re so hot
and my caution, your response
you’re sure you don’t want to?
I’m pretty sure the way my body looks,
nineteen and stress-infused with an Oreo belly
isn’t really what you pictured beneath my blouse,
and I’m positive you didn’t listen
to the story about my dad and the bad prom dress
because you cared. It was just sentiment. You said it was beautiful,
but really you wanted me to believe the act
like a description in the Playbill
and ride that trust all the way until the curtain dropped.
Please don’t call me beautiful
when the word ******* is before it
or if we are ******* because making love
is for married couples and you don’t even want me
sticking around for the ****** sunrise that peers
underneath your shade every morning.

Tell me I’m beautiful when I’m crying—
crack me open and watch the colors bleed
like a painting that hasn’t dried. Admire
the light that peaks through the clear parts
like a windowpane, no blinds.
Tell me I’m beautiful when I’m laughing,
when I’m reading my favorite part of a book,
when I’m stuffing my face with peanut-butter
pretzel bites and I haven’t washed my sheets in weeks,
and I’ll know you can’t be lying
because I’ve listened to the waves your heart makes
when you’re sleeping and I’ve called your smile
to the surface many times when you’ve tried
to deflect it back inside. You’ll know that
and you’ll know I’m beautiful.  
Call me beautiful
when you’re not even trying.
Call me beautiful when you’re by yourself
and the smell of my hair is still on your pillow,
or the memory of how dumb I sounded
singing my favorite song breaks your heart back
to the best little pieces.

On the surface, all typical answers,

Stay in shape, and keep the weight off,

I enjoy, and love the competitive spirit,

I want to beat you at the finish line,
and then shake your hand,

I want to be your friend and wish you good luck

I want to stand next to you on the podium

But I run deep,

I run because I have to replenish the blood loss,
From the heart I keep cutting open,

I run because I hurt you,

I run because I broke so many promises,

I run from a past which haunts me,

I run like the wind needing to escape,

I run for my future,

I run for my life

Firewalker