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Kayla Feb 2018
A careless comment made without a second thought.
A whim with hidden selfish intent.
Saying you'll listen, but stopping me as I start to speak,
Unable to look into my eyes as I weep.
Only liking me when I'm smiling and energetic.
You say that's not true, but look at your actions.
What's your voice really saying?

Shaken and scared, I ask you to comfort me.
Picking and choosing my words carefully, as you fail to understand the meaning.
Seeing how insignificant myself and others are,
Why do I keep trying when their true faces are so ugly?
"Don't judge a book by it's cover", yet beauty has nothing to do with intent.
The colors I try to paint turn into a black puddle seeping at my feet.
"Isn't it beautiful?" I ask. They nod, not even acknowledging the hidden message.

Upon returning home, I set the canvas ablaze.
"No one listens  when I truly speak what I mean. They want a grey lie, constructed carefully with a trying smile, not this ugly black sin.
All of them.
All of them.

"I'm listening."
"I'll be there."
"You're safe."
"You can trust me."
"I love you."

Withdrawn, I humor your words with an analytical expression.
You deny any subtle suggestion of fault, pressing further down the rabbit hole I've expelled you from,  and yet you wonder why we aren't close.
I lose my patience and break you off, returning to a slumber where I choke from a lie that truly hits my core.

You, the only person who truly matters,
taken away in a squad car when we had just stopped for ice cream.
These unfamiliar faces take you away, saying it's unacceptable.
I reflect as I wait for your trial, trying to break you free.
I realize that this world must be wrong, with it's gaze cast full of judgement.
My eyes cloud with tears as I realize my sins, my hypocrisy.
I'm no better, yet I can't help but scream as they take you away.
Do I really have a right?

This hatred I have for those who pin the vulnerable,
The unacceptable.
Are my actions really any different?
Shaken,  I focus these inward emotions into an explosion.
The red on the canvas fades to black, and I camouflage into the city nightscape.
Kayla Jan 2018
Roses can be yellow,
Violets can be purple.
Love isn't easy,
and life isn't simple.

If you're reading these words,
surely you agree.
Just because it's what people say,
doesn't mean it's all it's cracked up to be.

The seed of happiness needs love,
needs care.
You have to keep it alive,
even if no one else is there.

Someday, someone might find me.
In the fields, in the sun.
Nurture and pick me,
they might be the one.

I'm not against such a fate,
I'd love to be found.
As a flower I will wait,
show my colors and be proud.
Kayla Jan 2018
Walking into the room,
my head up, flashing a smile.
Listening intently,
despite this feeling I'm having all the while.
These gazes I feel directed towards me.
I shift my legs, blushing and feeling small.

Another man stands in front of me today,
asking for my company.
I remember the danger, the pain. I feel nothing.
Closed off, losing my expression, I turn away.
"I'm sorry." I choke out internally, my voice small.

Everyone surrounds me,
I'm smiling with content.
Praise in every ear,
I'm slipping, these feelings need to vent.
I look into your eyes, flashing my brightest smile,
my hands flapping all the while.
These gazes I see directed towards me,
I cover my hands, blushing and feeling small.

Another tutor stands in front of me,
enjoying my company.
They begin to fill my head with wonder,
suggestions attempting to carve out my future.
I remember my hope of tomorrow, and the shrouds of fear.
Not ready and surrounded,
my accomplishments fade as the pressure is reminded.
I respond smiling in return, feeling small.

I gaze up at you, laying my head on your chest.
Here, I feel strong.
I gaze out the window,
wondering where with others I go wrong.
I trace my fingers over your cheek,
giggling and my heart exploding.
No matter what they say,
their voices are small.
Even if the moment can't last,
and the day must end,
I take comfort in knowing that you're different,
and no matter what will remain my friend.

— The End —