i am ruins.
i am dust.
i am rubble and broken windows.
i am nothing.
and You made yourself a home
in these ruins,
in this heart,
and somehow, i don't know,
You make beauty out of these ruins,
You make glory shine out of these
broken windows,
You see that i am not enough,
that i am broken and You make
Your light shine through the cracks
of this heart.

We no longer speak
but I conversate with you.
I transverse through
every syllable I ever spoke,
every gesture,
every lie,
every joke,
and every poem
I ever wrote.

We no longer speak
but I've been talking to you;
in dark rooms at strange hours
unable to sleep;
sometimes on clear nights
under a menacing moon
allowing its bright light
to wash me in its purity.

We no longer speak
and it’s time I stopped,
stopped reliving every mistake
stopped thinking,
stopped wondering,
and stopped loving you
because the gravity
that once drew us together
now pushes us apart
and with each rotation
I the moon go further
and further from the earth’s heart.

Sometimes i stare in the mirror,
looking back at myself wondering how i got here,
how i could have changed so much.

I dont see myself as i was before.

Before when i gazed at my reflection i saw someone strong, someone smart, someone ready for love, a healed itellegent woman.

But in this moment as i look in my reflection i see tired eyes, weighed down by waiting tears.
I see someone hurt, someone intellegent yet naive.
I see sorrow and pain, guilt, and insecurity.
I was once happy, lonely and not in love, but somewhat happy, happy and ready for the future.

Now im here, stuck in the present, ashamed of my recent past, and doutbful of the future.

Now a days im not so cheerful, im not so happy, and im not so optimistic.

Its crazy what love can do to you, and its crazy what someone you love can turn you into.

My soul is sufficated by doubtful love.
My mind and my heart ache from lies and broken promises.

I thought being in love meant changing you for the better, not breaking you down for the worst.
I thought love was different.
All i can say now is .  .  .


look what its done to me.

I once met a girl who didn't believe that she was such a beauty to anyone, even to me
Ah, what a lie she told herself every day that nothing about her was perfect in any way
She'd tell me to stop nagging and to stop dragging her away
She'd tell me that I didn't understand that skinny is OK
I asked myself what was that to her, even if she got it?
Would that fact actually make her happier than she was at the beginning?
She'd collapse in tears as she could not match to society's standards of a body that is seen as attractive
But what she failed to realise is that nothing matters on the outside

Because if you're beautiful on the inside that takes over and purifies what the eyes can see
Because when you are with someone who loves you for who you are, it's all that matters in reality

Yet she'd always go silent and always cry, buckling under the pressure and the fact she wouldn't comply
That she was exquisite to me, that sparkling beauty who always caresses my dreams
She never accepted that if you're kind and charming within ugliness does not plague your skin
The skin stretching indefinitely across bones as she continuously starves, always comparing herself to the warped illusion at large

Then when she sees her reflection, out comes a sigh of exasperation as she cannot see her beauty
I get consumed with frustration as she won't see her perfection, her view of perfection tainted by the world
But I want her to remember for sure

I will always remind you that you are perfect to me, sending out every compliment as if it is a plea
I know that you'll dodge the meaning of them somehow, but I promise I'll be there for you, forever more
I'll be the rain, the wind, the sunset to put you to sleep
Knowing that the beauty I showed is within you as I speak

Killing me with every word you say
throw knives in between my rib cage
While my heart is still in my throat
to nervous to speak
just letting my ears bleed
because they couldn't take anymore of your laughs and shallow sympathy
Couldn't you step into the deep end and look into the world, instead
of looking at yourself, smiling at the way you break me...could you give me a break?
These sharp words are making me weak
I hope you **** me now before I choke on this heart beat
Before I suffocate from reality
But I'm wasting my time, when in the end you're nothing more than a cold heart and a speck of dirt crawled up inside my veins, like a worm chewing through endless apples making sour holes into each spot that once was sweet.