I need a shoulder, or two.
I'm crying my eyes out and I don't know what to do.
I'm scared, not ready
I need you
I'm screaming on the inside
I don't know how to deal
Is this a dream I wish this wasn't real
I have to be strong I need to be strong
It's what I've been doing for so long
I see that death is real it's not a joke
I hate that others call it quits before it truly begins
I'm a first hand witness of the true voyage of death and I wouldn't wish it upon anyone
I'm struggling
I Amber, actually struggle would you look at that
I'm scared
I'm confused
I'm nauseous
I need you
I need someone

your name echoes in my thoughts.
bright lights spell it out
racing, my mind can't stop
you're all I've ever asked for
craving your response
evidently my heart beats a little faster when you're near
night turns to day and you're still here.

we aren't perfect,
more like a shifting puzzle.
we have our turning points,
better times.
other days I wish I hadn't woken up for,
but in the end
we make an exquisite masterpiece.

some people admire our artwork,
others only find its flaws.
but what are flaws?
peoples definitions of imperfect?
because "imperfection" is just an opinion.

however, one day you decided art wasn't your forte.
our painting was no longer on display.
it fell off the wall
the painting broke along with my heart.
it left scars and imperfections on the wall.
without the painting, the wall looked bare.
the wall lacked character.

now when people see the painting they just shrug thinking about what it used to be.

however I am the painting.
a jumble of colors thrown together in attempt to make something beautiful.
I was just hung up until a better painting came along.
then I came crashing down
and thrown into the pile of unwanted art work
only looked at according to my flaws.
longing for my pieces to be put back together.

but how could a broken painting ever compare to a brand new one?
it can't.
but that "shiny" painting won't last.
it's only for looks
as for me, look deeper.
because when you aimlessly try to put the pieces back together
there's always something missing.
and that something is you.

"How can you love him like that?"*

At 5, they taught me
how to color shapes
and I would color them
beyond the lines.

At 10, they told me
to make a 500-word essay
and I did a 1000-word
for it and got an F.

At 16, they apprised me
to wear a cocktail dress in a party
and I wore a long dress;
they bullied me for weeks.

At 20, my professor instructed me
to place up to 5 decimal places
and I wrote 7 for assurance;
I failed his class.

At 23, he asked me to love him
with everything that I can
and I gave him beyond everything;
he broke my heart.

I could write a million
Poems about that particular moment,
With our bodies so close together,
And my heart beating out of my chest.

The way you traced along my skin
ever so slightly
With your finger tips making me shiver.

You always said you loved my poems,
You said they made you feel free
And that you only wanted me.

So here I am writing a poem,
All & only for you.
And I just wanted to say,
I only want you too.

a butterfly flirts with me

she stands before me
but turns when i look

then

she fans herself
like a spanish dancer
teases her audience

i wonder if she knows
how captivated i am
by her alluring ways

or

how i'd do anything
to hold on to this
moment

i can only pray
please stay

Plastic smiles,
Plastic bodies,
Plastic lives,
Plastic words,
Fake
Fake
Fake
Fake,
Maybe its the latest trend,
Plastic smile to avoid  being questioned,
Plastic body in hope to be perfected,
Plastic lives to impress and draw attention,
Plastic words to try to fit into some section,
So here's the drill;
A fake smile hurts even more than a teardrop,
A fake body;doesn't change the inner you,and that's what's major
A fake lifestyle,only leaves you stressed out for no good reason,
Fake words,drain you and your conscience.
Be real,be you..there can never be another you,
You're beautiful/handsome;there can never be a more beautiful/handsome you.