Stop organizing your life
Your romances do not fit neatly onto one-page stories
Your pain cannot be summarized in a poem with two stanzas
The way you feel when you are alone deserves more than a haiku
give yourself credit
you are comprised of more than words
you do not have a synonym

I am trapped
between worlds where I am nothing and I am everything
I am in pieces
cornered by spirits I never knew existed
in the sunny days of childhood
Where I draw graves and fear the sound of a gun
Where I do as I should but am told I am not enough
Where the salt in my tears became a familiar taste
Where I wish that my grades measured my worth
because I had prefect grades but a flawed personality
I am floating
on a high of self appreciation
but have I gone too far?
have I turned into him?
my empathy feels like overcompensation
sincerity engulfs my actions
have I turned into him?

She is the calm before the storm
one deep breath of her cool scent
and her foreshadow
will send chills over your skin

She is the rain
her cold drop on your lashes
will remind you
of the things you did to her

She is the thunder
her voice filled with pain
seeps inside you
like the time she tried to die

She is the lightening
her brightness so quick
it is gone
before you can see her shine

She is the storm
that dances
never complete

Saying words just to hear them out loud
Convince yourself you're free
you've moved on
it's in the past
you are happy with who you are
but you hold onto the things they said
you crave attachment
fear commitment
you grew branches when they touched your skin
and shaved them off
to fuel a fire of self-doubt
It's over
it will never be the same
yet you re-read the words
hoping you will travel back in your dreams
re-living the same hours every night
Maybe you can re-create the chills on your neck
and take back the part of you you gave away
Plan for the past
Change the things you said
wishing it never happened
and wanting it to happen again
Say the words out loud.
Convince yourself you're free, you've moved on, it's in the past.

it seeps in through the cracks above her veins
hate
is not a strong enough word
for the demon that lives inside her chest
the days when it dissipates
her eyes will not turn blind
but will remain wide, waiting
for the demon that lives in her chest
is lingering
and the moment she find comfort
solace
the demon will expand,
engulfing pars of her she believed she loved
a stranger in her own body
but so familiar with the parts of herself she despises

I will grow
When inside of me there is a storm that knows no bounds. The winds of my soul and the rains of my mind mending in the face of tragedy
I will grow
When my skin is like dirt and my eyes the color of soot. Every inch of me is crawling with the desire to be pure
I will grow
When the flowers inside my lungs have rotted, their petals crumbling into my airway and begging to be coughed out
I will grow
When the soles of my feet have turned to stones and they drag across the pavement, creating sparks the color of my demons
I will grow
When my blood is the color of water yet my heart continues to beat the same rhythm it always has
I will grow
When I lose my spine at the thought of reality and take every chance to sit in solitude, avoiding the familiar
I will grow
My roots reach down to the core, rich in minerals and scalding hot
So that my leaves can reach to depths inside me I could only reach alone
and forever I will grow