There once was a man whose name was Moonie
He was a very handsome man
His skin was sun kissed, dark like a brown bears fur, soft like a baby's curl
And oh, the way his hair curled
Moonie had hair that grew outward instead of downward
His smile was as white as the snow capped mountains
His heart as warm as the coast of Australia, all year round
He smelled like matches and Dark Horse cigarettes
Like everything warm
He dressed like a professional troublemaker
His laugh came from his stomach when he laughed real good
And I've never heard him laugh bad
He loved like a father
Protected like a brother
Teased like a sister
And worried like a mother
He cursed like a sailor
But only when he was angry
Moonie had a fuse so long that if you lit it in January, it would take a whole 365 days for him to explode
But by the time 365 days past it was a matter that didn't really matter anymore
He had a mind like a turtle
He thought thoughtfully, slow and subtle
But he spoke like he knew every wonder of the world
He kissed babies and broke bottles on the backs of ships carrying soldiers off to war
Even though he was confused about what they were fighting for
Moonie spoke of peace and of hope for future souls
He loved everything from the edges of the universe
To the coral that grows in the deepest of the oceans coves
Moonie met a girl, who brought a whole lot of sunshine to his world
She made the lips of his mouth curl
Upward, it was a beautiful sight, especially with teeth that white
Moonie met a girl, he swears by the stars that she is incredible
Magnificent
Wonderful
Beautiful
Terrific
He says she makes his heart 10 times larger, like it's flowing out so much love that it makes his nose runny,
He calls her Sunny

There once was a girl named Sunny
She was a very beautiful girl
She had curly brown hair that fell just short of her shoulders
Skin that was kissed by the angels themselves
If you believe that kind if thing exists
She dressed like an artist
The kind that like to paint masterpieces
With every curve of the brush
She smelled like summer, like home, like sunshine peaking through rain clouds
She planted roses for those she lost,
In hopes of continuous growth and beauty
She spoke with the authority of an officer
But also with the gentleness of a butterfly
Her personality was layered like a Russian doll
And as you opened up every part of her she grew so very small
But not small in the bad way,
She was wise like an owl
But she was happy like a child at play
She cared like the ocean cares for sea creatures that swim in its depths
She cried like it was always rainy season
She laughed with a sadness in her eyes that was easy to detect
But she was happy
And she loved a man named Moonie
And he made her happy
And she swears on the rings that circle Saturn
That he is the most beautiful man on the planet

Sunny and Moonie lived together in a cozy home by the ocean
Where it was never too hot or too cold
They had a beautiful garden, that sprouted all different kinds of things,
Pumpkins that grew tomatoes
Watermelon that grew on trees
Potatoes that grew above the ground
Flowers with yellow stems and baby blue leaves
Beautiful birds flew around, bluejays with mocking jay wings
Their family was the world around them and they wanted and needed for nothing
Moonie was so happy
Sunny was so lovely
The things that they did, how incredibly they lived
How wonderful life had become
When moonie and sunny both lived as one

Then one day when Moonie was down by the beach
Sunny was in their little green house, fast asleep
Moonie slipped on a snail shell and fell into the pretty sea
When it got late Sunny worried and went to see
She called and she called
Moonie was nowhere to be found
He had fallen asleep forever, in the ocean's underground
The sharks and the octopus found Moonie and buried him deep
The sea urchin said we must bring him back!
But the turtle insisted that we must let him sleep
The flounder found Sunny by the shore and they brought her the news
The look in her eyes was as if her heart had been bruised
She look to the sky as dark clouds rolled in
The raindrops dropped to the rhythm of the tears on her skin
Her Moonie was gone forever in the ocean blue
She threw herself into the ocean saying take me with you
The flounder, the turtles, the mer-people and creatures of the sea
Tried to stop her from suffering the same fate as her dear Moonie
But she would let them save her as she fell into the deep,
Whispering, I love my Moonie and my Moonie loves me
She sank and she sank
She fell and she fell
She floated right next to her love
In the oceans pink sand
The most beautiful death in all of the land
Moonie swore by the stars that his Sunny was magnificent
And Sunny swore by the rings on Saturn that Moonie was the most beautiful man on the planet
They died together but they're souls rose separately
Moonie rose for the night
His love rose for the day
Sunny became the Sun
Moonie became the light that snuffed out the darkness of that day
And as they lived in their respective spots in the sky
They saw each other from time to time
They might have been punished for loving too much
Or they might've loved so much that the universe needed them to take care of us
For the Moon now takes care of the oceans tide
And the Sun takes care of you and I
I think Sunny and Moonie had it right
Even though they no longer see each other everyday,
their love is something you don't have to look so far to find
Maybe that's why you sometimes find the Moon and the Sun in the same sky
They're so close to finding each other, but they have so little time

There was once a sheep and a dragon. The dragon loved the sheep very much, more than she loved herself, but the dragon could never express her love because she was afraid she might hurt the sheep. You see, sheep and dragons don't belong together. If the dragon were to breathe fire on the sheep's wool by accident the sheep would die. If the dragon accidentally stepped on her sheep, she would never see his handsome smiling face again, and what good would that be? So the dragon cried and cried.

Then there was the sheep. Sheep loved dragon too, but none of his sheep friends thought that he would be cool if he married a dragon. They would make fun of him, call him names and his parents would shun him. The sheep knew that the dragon could hurt him but he wasn't worried, he would wrap himself in something that wasn't flammable and he would be sure never to walk underneath the beautiful dragon. The problem was, the sheep couldn't figure out if he loved his family or Dragon more.  So he went to seek help from the wise Turtle.

Turtle lived very far from sheep, but sheep thought that the walk was worth it to find out what he should do. When he arrived at Turtle's house, he was invited in for tea and Oreos. After the small snack, Sheep got right to business and he told Turtle his predicament. Turtle laughed and shook his tiny, Turtle head. "My child," Turtle said "If you really loved Dragon, everyone else's thoughts wouldn't be important. Prove to her that she matters." Sheep shook his head. Turtle hadn't solved his problem at all! "You are NO help you crazy old turtle," yelled Sheep. And he stormed out.

A day or so later Dragon went to see wise old Turtle too. She told Turtle about how she felt about sheep. Again, the wise (and now crazy) Turtle laughed. He thought that young kids didn't understand true love. "Let go of your insecurities Dragon. Sheep loves you and he accepts everything about you, he loves the fire that you breathe, even though it can burn him sometimes and he loves your big feet even though they can stomp him sometimes." The Dragon went home thinking about what Turtle had told her.

A week later Sheep and Dragon went together to see Turtle. Sheep apologized for being so rude before and said that he thought about what Turtle said and realized that he was right. Sheep loved Dragon and that was all that mattered. Dragon blushed red, like the fire she breathed. Turtle turned toward Dragon and asked her what she had learned. Dragon said she learned that even though she may be insecure about some things, she shouldn't let that get in the way of being happy with someone that she loves. Turtle laughed for that last time in this story and said, "Love is a funny thing, sometimes we don't always see what is there" with that being said, Dragon and Sheep ran away to live happily ever after.

I have been told twice in one week that I am flirting with a boy
Twice in one week I have associated with a male
I have laughed at jokes I thought were actually funny
I have given well deserved hugs
I have walked away with a smile on my face
I have been told twice in one week that I am flirting with a boy
Once by my friend, who assumed I wanted to steal her "toy"
Once by my teacher who refused to take my side
I cannot simply speak to a species with different genitals
Without being called "thirsty" or "flirty"
I am not sure if anyone realizes that maybe the conversation is actually funny
Maybe I actually understand the joke
Maybe I'm engaged in conversation because it is more intellectual than talking about quilts
Maybe there is more to me than the simple teenage girl you claim to know.

It's okay to leave your makeup on overnight sometimes,
Especially when you stumble through your front door at 3 am after forgetting to kiss the man who took you out goodbye
It's okay to wear the same pants two days in a row,
Especially after you've taken 4 finals, written 6 essays, and did a 13 page paper about the KKK.
It's okay to have a crush on the boy everyone else thinks is wierd,
Especially when he likes you back and your love makes him want to be a successful person for you when you grow up together
It's okay to cry,
Especially when your father disappeared just after avoiding a diabetic coma, do not let your mother tell you it's not.
It's okay to think you're pretty,
Especially if the other girls say you aren't (You are stunning)
Its okay to feel weak,
Especially when you're burdened with the weight of what feels like the world.
It's okay to let him tell you be loves you,
Especially when he means it
It's okay to LOVE YOURSELF,
Especially when you feel worthless.
It is okay,
When you think it isn't, read this poem,
Everything is okay,
You have to believe it will be okay,
Especially when it isn't

She is only 14
Drinking straight ***** and smoking ****
Growing up wasn't so fun for her,
The typical split parents whose love just wasn't enough for her,
With 14 siblings they didn't have enough care for her
And so they buried her
In a place in the back of their heads so far away that they just forgot her.
But some still remembered her;
The step-dad that got a little too rough with her
The step-brother that thought it was okay to touch her,
With a personality built from bruises and a broken soul,
She learned to take on the world all alone..

I have a message for the kid sitting in the back of the classroom
You know, the one with the bruises, ask him what's wrong he'll give you the dumbest excuses
"I fell down the stairs, and ran into the door"
But stairs and doors don't give black eyes and broken bones so what are you lying for?

I have a message for the prettiest girl in school
You know, The one hiding behind all that make-up and hairspray
Pretending she couldn't be having  a better day
Yet she's afraid to go back to her broken home
Because her step-dad hurts her mom and her brother won't leave her alone
School is her sanctuary
What you don't know can be scary.

I have a message for the boy on his skateboard
Sellings drugs and liquor to make a quick buck
Then he got caught for possession and now he's stuck
In that cell all by himself remembering what his friends said
"We're bros, forever" But they left him for dead.

I got a message for that wierd girl in the lunchroom
The one that eats alone,
She has no place to call home
She smells bad because she doesn't own a shower
Living in shelters, her life is out of her power
Because her parents messed up she has to hurt
But she wants to do better so she does her school work

I have a message for the boy blogging
Those cuts on his wrists are not cat scratches
They're more like past mistakes left on his arms in patches
He can't help how sad he always feels
But he refuses to be that kid "on pills"

I have a message for that girl with the strict parents
Wishing she could bring her girlfriend to meet the family
But she knows if she did they wouldn't be happy
Because being gay is a sin
And if you're gay you're not kin

****, what a world we live in.

I have a message for all the messed up kids
Who struggle in the daily lives they live.
You will be okay
Things will get better someday.
So put away that blade and pick up that paint brush
Don't end your life before you've felt the rush
Wait until you've had your first kiss
I promise you there will be so many moments of bliss
Put down that bottle of pills
You of all people deserve life's thrills
I know sometimes it's hard to catch the curveballs life throws your way,
Just get low and get ready to play

To the kids who feel lost and alone
I will be the one to welcome you home

It had been said that writing is the window to the soul
As if our souls have been locked in the houses of our bodies
The flesh and blood of empty shells that have waited so long to be embodied
When we die our bodies get put on the market
Our friends become nothing, we become the homes of maggots
We rot until the soil finishes our bones
Leaving nothing left but soft soil where we grow real live homes
Made of brick and of high plaster ceilings
Or we might grow temples, as we give our souls to some higher being, kneeling
On hardwood floors,
with concrete steps that lead up to chapel doors
And if you're not one for religion than we might build grocery stores
Lined with meats and cheeses, spilled milk on the floors
Because of toddlers who have had too much sugar
We may even build centers for children who flick their boogers
Or homes for the folks who can no longer walk
Hospitals for those we have deemed unfit because they chose not to talk
I suppose they may build whatever your soul has become
I suppose they may build a window to your soul, a literal one
If you could look into your window after death, do you think
That if you peer hard enough, close enough..
Do you think you would like what you see?


It has been said that writing is the window to the soul
As if we are locked in a prison of flesh and blood
Maybe it's why so many people feel less than enough
And maybe it's the universe's idea of punishing us
Because this whole house of flesh is covered in muscle and blood
Moving body parts, cells,thoughts and emotions like love and lust
Pushed all together supposedly the way we're supposed to be
Souls like caged animals waiting to break free
Like my rib cage can't hold the thousands of lifetimes sewn into my soul
Because a soul is too big for 342 bones to hold
With lifetimes yet to mold
If I truly am caged, there is just one more question I must ask of thee
Do I really want to be free?

If writing is a window to the soul
Then my body must be a home
But I want you to look into my eyes and tell me what you see
Because if I'm supposed to feel at home,
why does this house feel empty.

We often think that the baggage we carry
Needs to be unloaded
Onto someone else
Something else
Like a hobby
Or a lover
"You can't have me if you can't handle my past"
But what, my dear,
Does your past have to do with what's near?
Did your baggage wake you up and buy you coffee this morning?
Did it put its jacket over a puddle so your shoes wouldn't get wet
Does it whisper sweet nothing's into your ear when you lie down
Tell me,
Does your baggage watch you paint
Does it love your beauty when you are vulnerable
Yet also when you're strong
Your baggage is not you

I will not lift it off of your shoulders
(Only God can do that)
But I will teach you make it weigh less
If you'd just give me the chance

I'm so hell bent on fixing him
When I haven't even fixed myself
Fixated on a boy who wants to get inside me
It hurts because he doesn't even seem to like me
He's pretty much my Novacaine
I mean the way he affects my brain
I'm all doped up on his ******* lies
Bet I couldn't get away from him even if I tried
But it's not like I've made an attempt
Some other girl owns his heart and I'm paying that ***** rent
At the same time it could be a hallucination
After all, he is my drug and I'm not to keen on imagination
He's gotta have a good enough reason
For why his feelings change with the seasons
Maybe I'm just driving myself crazy,
But as soon as we got close enough he left me and maybe,
That just means he's afraid and needs someone to save him
Or I'm making up ****** excuses so I can have a reason to crave him
Without feeling like a little kid running after someone like her dad
Someone who leaves me alone wondering and wanting what we had
The only peace I recieve is hiding beneath these tears and sheets
Because finding peace in a person just means it hurts more when they inevitably leave
But why do I care so much
I've always given too many *****
And a while back I promised myself I'd stop
Because I'm afraid of falling and life has too many unseen drops
Kind of like a rollercoaster but you can't see it when you get to the highest point
And on the way down you scream so loud you lose your voice
Then you don't know how or who to ask if you have the right to be ornary
Because he ignores you all day, then night comes and he's *****
Well ****, I guess since I live down the street
I'm supposed to come easy like a nicely cooked piece of meat
In a restaurant for guys like you
But rather than take me on a date you'd have me shoo
I mean I guess I could leave you alone and go away
But then I'd just think about you all day
And wonder why you haven't called or texted
When I know for **** sure you have your phone but everyone says don't stress it
I dont know man
I've fallen so hard it's a struggle to stand
I guess I just refuse to see him for who he really is
A sheltered cold-hearted killer of girls who happen to like him

http://m.youtube.com/watch?feature=fvwrel&v;=sLgaAE0J8vw

I prefer not to feel
It feels a hell of a lot better than being sad
I prefer numb
I prefer the silence so loud that it burns through my ears
I enjoy the nothing breathing deeper than the ocean
I'd rather feel nothing than feel that feeling of almost empty in the bottom of my stomach
I hate the twists and turns of my heart
I hate the way my gut drops when you say you love me
Because I know it isn't real and it never was
There are so many lost relationships because of my issues with trust
I don't know why but feelings just get in my way
So when you say you feel something there
Please don't be angry when I say that I do not
Please understand when I avoid the question
It's not your fault
I just do not have the answer you're looking for
I would rather say nothing
Feel nothing
**Be nothing

Honest Cruelty**
I talked to this kid earlier today.
He was walking down the street and I asked him where he was going, he said to Blaine, me and this kid both live about 2 cities away from Blaine, so I asked him why he was going all the way there. He said his dad ****** him off, so he was going to see his mom.
Now, I've known this kid for at least 4 years and when we first met he told me his mom died in Columbia when he was yound and he moved to America with his step-dad around age 5. Today I found out that he was lying.
His father sold him for 3 grand when he was a baby. "My pops doesn't even want me" he said. His mom left him with his step-father for years, which led him to think she was dead when she just couldn't handle the pressures of a child. "My mom doesn't either" he said. "And this ******* that has me now is pretty much a stranger who always yells and fusses and doesn't want me either"
What do you say to something like that? I don't know.. But he looked so down and so I forced him to look at me and I said "Josh, I love you. And I want you." I know it's something he needed to hear and I meant every word. He lives a few doors down from me and I know he beeded something besides a basketball. So I gave him that. It was all I could think to give him.
I just hope I did the right thing.
And I pray to God he's okay.

I miss those old-fashioned barber shops
The ones where everyone was welcome
You could hear stories about people who made it to the top
Never just a place to get your haircut, but a place to have fun,
filled with conversation and good memories
I spent most of my childhood in one.
And through everything in my life that went terribly wrong
The barber shop was a place that made me feel strong
Surrounded by people who loved and who cared
A place where every ounce of happiness was shared
Places like these I love the most
But I haven't seen a shop in a while, They sort of dissappeared, Like ghosts

At 18 he is an Adult
His eighteen years on earth have made him that
His eighteen years of growing, show offing, caring, becoming
Have made him become a man

At 15 she is still a child
Though enduring the same kind of struggle as him she is a child
Because he has endured it longer
Her fifteen years of being alive have taught her nothing compared to the three years left before adulthood

At 3 years apart they are friends
Maybe more, close enough
But darling, three years is a bit too much

Our society has an odd obsession with numbers
It also has an odd obssesion of deciding when one has been alive enough years to give consent
Shoving the idea of age down our throats as if it is the most important thing

She doesnt know what it means to love because she is far too young
I dont mean to be rude
But as a 32 year old single mother raising 3 children
do you?
Does your age define your maturity?
Because I'm not supposed to know how to say no to ***
But I do.

At 18 he is an adult
At 15 she is a child
But at what age are we allowed to fall in love?

She steps out of bed in the morning. Standing, stretching, rubbing half open eyes. She doesn't even so much as glance in the mirror as she walks softly across the cold, hardwood floor and into the bathroom to shower. She turns on the water and tests it to see if it's too cold or too hot. Jumping in she washes away the filth of sad dreams and her wandering mind. Stepping out she wraps herself in a warm fuzzy towel and shuffles quietly into her room, making sure she doesn't wake the rest of her house, she closes her door and turns on her music. As she stares in the mirror she turns up the volume on her iPod so that it's drowns out the sounds of her thoughts calling her ugly, pale and sickly. She sighs and begins to pile on the makeup. Fixing her face to perfection, pulling and magnifying every eyelash and covering every pimple. Once she is semi-satisfied with her product filled face she starts on her hair. Plowing thought tangled curls, straightening and curling, primping and poking and prodding until every piece of hair from root to tip is burned to a crisp. She smiles to her reflection, at least it's a little prettier than before, she thinks. Yet, she's still unsatisfied, she frowns again. She'd rather have her entire face covered and unseen. She moves on to her wardrobe, not liking anything in her closet she raids her mothers. Finding something suitable and baggy to cover her layers of fat (the whole 150 pounds of it), she looks in the mirror one more time. Unhappy with the finished product she checks her watch and realizes she doesn't have time to change. She trumps out the door to the big, bumpy, smelly, annoying bus and listens to the other kids have fun. When she gets to school she walks to the looming doors alone, then walks alone to her locker. In fact, she spends the entire day alone. Even though her school holds over 500 people at this very moment. After school she walks to the same bus she arrived in. Smelling and feeling the same as earlier in the day. She arrives home to an empty house and makes some ramen noodles and tea. Then she sits and does homework and watches TV until around midnight and goes into her room, brushes her teeth and goes to sleep. Just to wake up and do it all again tomorrow.

The other day in therapy we talked about my fears.
She asked me why I was afraid of the dark.
At the time I didn't know, I've always been ,

I guess I've never been scared of the dark
I guess I've always loved it

But I've given it some thought and I've noticed
The dark holds untold secrets
It is something you cannot run from

You can't say I'm ugly, you can't say I'm tall

When it comes, it is usually unexpected
And it envelopes you

You'll be forced to listen to my personality and my call

Until you become enclosed in everything else you're afraid of
The dark holds your freedom

Because you can hear my voice and hear my movement
You can't hear my smile and you can't hear my touch

And refuses to return it to you

I'll always be more than enough... In the dark

At night dark becomes powerful
Because there is no escape

Everyone's equal, you don't have to be shy.
It's so much easier to cry without light

No amount of light is bright enough to ***** out the dark.

You and I have the same amount of pride.

The dark holds you
In an intricate web of danger and exposure to things unseen
Worst of all,
The dark holds me
And I, do not enjoy being held by things.

Why is everyone looking for the light?
When it's so much easier living at night.

**In the dark

At least 4 people have asked me this question in the last 10 minutes. This is the answer.

As a child, I grew up learning that God is who I should follow. That he will lead you into paradise, and you will rest in his kingdom. At the age I am now, I'm choosing to disagree. I don't believe in a higher power. I don't believe there is someone watching over me, I don't believe someone has already calculated my every step. It's hard for me to grasp the concept of it. I know that it is a scary thought that there won't be a hand to hold throughout my life, but I can hold my own.
But Why Buddhism?
I'm assuming everyone has different goals of life. My main goal is to be happy. That is literally all I ask for. Happiness. Shooting star? I wish for happiness. 11:11? I wish for happiness. It's been that way since I was a little girl. Buddhism uses meditation and the teachings of Buddha to set a path for your life. It teaches to look into yourself to find what you need. Things like compassion and kindness come from inside. In my religion I am not put against an almighty being. I have no one to be compared to but myself and in knowing this, I can know that I can grow into who I am supposed to be. I believe in reincarnation, I have even before I learned what Buddhism was. I always thought you were reincarnated until you lived a perfect life and went to heaven. Now I believe that you are shooting for Nirvana, not some place in the sky. i am not bashing any other religion I used to believe in it. There is more to it than this, but I'm not trying to write a paper about it.

Everyone is entitled to their views and opinions. I only hope that my choices don't make me lose the friends I love and care for, but if they do, I didn't have them as friends in the first place and I understand their choices too.

Stay Peaceful,
Jay

I have a way of making myself feel better.
When I'm feeling down
Or when my self esteem is at a low point
There are certain things about myself that I love.
A positive spirit
A kind mind
I like my lips
And my eyes
The gap in my teeth
Is a pretty imperfection
My nose, may not be shaped like a button
But it's even and I love it
My nail beds are long
Which makes for easy painting
I have defined collarbones
It's the way God made me
They always say
If you don't love yourself, no one will
(Source unknown)
I'm finally trying.

I'm becoming who I'm supposed to be
but its not what everyone else wants to see
I'm being happy and I'm being me
but everyone is flying in and making me fall like the 9/11 buildings

Their fires eat away at the insides of my soul
Slowly but surely I feel pieces of me falling, all time low
As my steel barriers melt and my heart grows cold
As my bearings break and my windows close
As the pressure builds and my walls fold

I  fall into a black pit of emptiness
It seems impossible but nevertheless
I collapsed in on myself and I'm nothing but a pile of ash

I watch my own downward spiral
I'm just glad mine hasn't gone viral
its like a mid-life crisis but I'm only 15
As if Alice's rabbit hole is no longer big enough for me

Let me tell you something,
drinking with adults is not okay
When a 23 year old man says "You can smoke my **** if your friend plays her cards right" it is not okay
When your friend plays her cards right, its not ******* okay
Nothing is okay...

But in the society we live in its okay
Your life isn't that bad
You dont suffer enough,
If your normal you get no attention
No affection.
Praised for being Emotionally and Mentally disabled,
we young girls are cutting our wrists for notes on tumblr
Thinking a prince will come and make the scars go away

BUT THEY WILL ALWAYS BE THERE.
When people ask what they're from, what parts will you share?
Life isn't fair
So meditate
Be careful
Stop trying to make sense of it
You ******* can't.

Looking in the mirror she uncaps her marker
She leans forward a bit and begins to draw
Curving her hips into the frame of an hourglass
Pretty at last
Drawing long black hair, soft to the touch
It still isn't enough
She draws a bigger bottom
She's almost got it
She draws thinner legs, with a thigh gap
How about that?
She draws smaller arms, ones that don't jiggle
And a teeny tiny middle
The picture in the mirror is who she wants to be
But it isn't what she sees

She hits the mirror, with all her strength
She regrets it but its too late
Blood is spilling out of her hand
As she does it over and over again
Broken shards lying on her bedroom floor
She hits the mirror just once more
Once last time she gazes at her reflection
Please, pretty girl, see your perfection
Know that the picture you drew
Is not you
And if it was you would be the same
Love yourself, don't be so ashamed
You're beautiful

*Write that on your mirror

Only one plate? said mother
Is that all you're going to eat?
You said,
I've got to save some room for the treats.
That's a tiny piece of cake. said mother,
Are you sure you don't want another
You said,
Well, we have to save room for the others.
Are you sick? said mother
As she opened the bath room door
She saw you shove your finger down your throat
Then you threw up all over the floor.
I'm so sorry, said mother.
Your sad because it isn't her fault
She encouraged full figures
But a stomach is something you didn't want.
I knew you were getting so small, said mother.
I should've said something
And you began to cry
Because what she could've said would've meant nothing.
Mother called father not knowing what do do,
Instead of helping, father came screaming into your room,
You're going to start eating young lady! Father shouts
If you don't then we will have a problem,
Then he slammed the door on his way out.
You wonder what you should do as you sit upon your bed,
Should you allow daddy to hurt you?
Or get fat instead?
Maybe, just maybe, you think
You'd be better off dead..

Lips are made for kissing, she said.
But these lips have never been kissed with the love of a savior on these dark nights
Hands are made for holding, she said.
But these hands have never been held aside from the afraid little girl sitting next to her
Hearts are made for missing, she said.
But no heart has so much as missed a beat looking for her love
Promises are made to be broken
And all of the unspoken promises hurt the most when they come shattering down like broken mirrors

So I asked her
If lips were made for kissing
And hands were made for holding
And hearts were made for missing
And promises were made to be broken

Then why do harsh words spill from my lips like scalding soup onto the feet of unexpecting victims
And why do my hands make these cuts on my very own skin as if im cutting a cake that bleeds blood as red as my sins
And why does my heart lock itself into a cage as if its a prisoner in its own mind, chain itself to my soul in an inexcapable cell
Please, tell me why the promise of pure anger, pain and suffering is left inside of me with no escape. can you tell me that.

She looked at the ground and smiled
Your lips, Your hands, Your heart and Your promises
Are those of a survivor
Cherish them, for they hold beauty unbeknownst to those who have not felt pain
But still, you were made for the purposes stated above and you must believe it.

I'm never sure if I have the right to upset with you.
Because society has sort of thrown clingyness into my face
By telling me I need to learn how to stay in my place
For example if you aren't replying as quickly as me
I guess I'm supposed to take the hint and leave
Just so I'm not known as that needy girl
Who isn't complete without you in her world
And if I happen to actually tell you what's wrong
You'll throw me excuses so I'll feel like you were in the right all along
I'm supposed to display this big show of confidence when ignored
Like I don't need you to have fun when in reality I'm bored
Right now I'm just stuck at this spot and I'm not sure what to do
Should I hide my anger or should I just tell you

I have this perfect idea of a person in my head
Who loves the things I love
Who writes with me, draws with me, paints with me.
Someone with soft hair I can run my fingers through.
Who thinks it's cool I want a million tattoos,
Who doesn't mind doing illegal things
Like tagging, drinking and "burning trees"
Who doesn't care that sometimes I just don't have the energy to do my hair
And sometimes I like to walk around in my underwear,
Someone who knows I can't always be perfect
But still believes I am,
Who will tell me when I'm wrong but behind me they'll stand
Who will hold me when I cry
Wipe the tears from my eyes
Someone who will help me when I feel incomplete
Someone to take me farther than his bed sheets
Someone who loves carnivals, And can only Tolerate clowns
Who will be there through the ups and downs.
When I get angry they'll calm my mind
With a kiss and Love I don't have to search for to find.
I'm so afraid that when this person comes I won't notice
I'll be too busy chasing these other fools, I just know it.
He'll knock me right of my feet
And say something clever like "I know you've been waiting for me"
Then he'll go sweet
And make me weak in the knees
He'll apologize for being late
Then he'll fall in love with me

We mold together perfectly
His arms around my waist holding me as though he's done it a thousand times
My arms comfortably held by his shoulders as if the place where his collarbones and neck meets was made just for me to rest my head.
And I'm sure if we got the chance to kiss, his lips would match mine in a sort of perfect harmony.
His eyes seem to light up when he sees me, making them more beautiful every time I see them.
Blue like the sky on a perfectly clear day towards the darkest black of pupils,
Reaching out as a child reaches for its mother into an icy navy blue like the deepest spots of the ocean,
Navy blue is his favorite color.
We like adventures and we go on them.
His imagination and soul seem to match mine as if we've known each other for millions of years.
We could talk for hours like lost lovers and never get bored, we have a thousand times before.
I can show him the sides of me that no one has ever seen and I feel like he's made for me.
I see the good in his heart even when it doesn't show.
I feel that God hand-crafted his idea of a perfect man and gave him to me.
So why am I so afraid?
Why am I scared to hurt him?
Feeling as if I'm hiding behind the scenes in a horror movie, waiting to jump out and destroy him before he has the chance to cry for help.
I don't want to be the one that makes him change,
That turns him into the stereotypical teenage male who once thought it okay to love but now can never feel it again.
I don't want to hurt him and so I will forever remain caught in this cage of fear and pain in order to save my darling from suffering.
I'm willing to do that much for him.

Everyone eventually leaves
No matter how many times they say they won't
No matter how many forevers
Or forgives and forgets
Or this isn't over yet
Sometimes the I'll be backs
Turn into I got caught up
Turns into I don't have the time
Turns into the last goodbye
Turns into the "missed" calls
When I know you didn't bother to pick up at all
One day everyone will walk out
Like they've had enough and it's time to go
And you've been waiting since rainy season,
Now it's starting to snow
That's from spring till winter in case you didn't know
And you're still standing at that window looking for who you need most
But I promise you
Everyone eventually leaves
Like they have better things to do than listen to you
Whine
And *****
And moan
Like they have made you sit and listen to their ****
Like I just need to leave.
Please don't follow me
And everyone eventually goes
Mom, dad, the sisters you wish you had
And the ones you already have
How sad
Because strangers turn into friends
Turn into complete strangers again
Until I see you walking down the street
Exchanging how have you beens when you know **** well
You haven't been thinking of me.
Acting like you don't all eventually leave
Like the moving trucks
Ever get rusted
Knowing that we shouldn't lock them up
Soon enough their locks gonna get busted
So why waste the money.
Stop with the jokes, honey, nothing's funny
I'm not ******* around when I say they always leave
Unless they just always happen to want to leave me
If that's the case then, please
Tell me what I did wrong
To have a personality that everyone wants
To be around for about 5 minutes
Then when I'm drained out their finished
As if they ever cared in the first place
Like after they get rid of what's on their plate
It adds a double helping on mine
That might triple over time
I'm so willing to listen
But they never let Me get a word in
Like ****, calm down
Let me speak this time around
Make sure your ears are open and you hear me
Because ill be screaming at the top of my lungs
**Baby please don't leave me

I am from Saturday morning cartoons and giant bowls of cereal
I am from footie pajamas and cozy blankets
I am from late nights, and TV screens
I am from broken locks and and shattered window panes
I am from broken homes and shattered psyches
I am from belts, and hangers, and spikes
I am from good days and bad
I am from happy
I am from sad
I am from places where the sun tries to hide, but
I am also from places where we always find the light

"**** yourself" she said
Too bad she didn't realize
I'm already dead

Times like these I wish I could call my dad
To describe to him in detail all the problems I have
You know, hear him say everythings going to be okay,
reminding me that I should relax and have some good days,
But I honestly can't
It's not because he's tired or asleep,
It's just that, I stress him out when he talks to me.
I don't mean to, but he asks me how I'm doing and all the problems spill out
Sometimes I wish i could just shut my big mouth.
The last time we talked about troublesome things
He had an almost stroke and blamed it on me,
And out of all the people I've hurt,
It's my pops that haunts me the worst.
But even if I could just call him and say hello it'd be nice,
But he'd pick up and say, "Have you checked the time? It's the middle if the night!"
Then promise to call back first thing in the morning
And no call would come, but the tears would come pouring
Because I just want my dad, to hold me like when I was little
Keep me from becoming bitter
Protecting me and shooing away danger
But his little girl is past hurt, there's no way he can save her,
Not like he tries
Just seeing him brings tears to my eyes
Because I don't know how long he'll be gone again
Times like these I think I should call my dad while I'm laying in bed
But I'll just write this poem scream into My teddy bear instead.