they say
he must be lucky
the guy who gets to have me
and i just look in your eyes
and see the hell i have put you through
they fell in love w my words
but i wonder do they know
that this is not beautiful
all these words may make depression look pretty
but it is not
it is not easy to be w a girl
who wants to crawl into the tiniest space of you
and make her home there
it is not easy to be with a girl
who makes you her air
it is not easy to see her
cringe at her own reflection
it is not easy to love her
when all she has is hatred for her self
it is not easy to look at her
when you read her poems about how she wants to peel off her skin
till nothing of her remains
it is easy to say
he must be a lucky guy
lemme assure you
he is not
im not blushing cheeks and perfect smiles
Im not about classy looks and vintage dresses
im like the storm and the only way i know how to show my love is to destroy
it is not easy to talk to her
when she replies in proses and riddles
it is not easy to hold her
when one moment she is warm and cuddlable
and the next she is spitting fire
it is not easy to tolerate her
when one small mistake and
it has already been
carved as a poem
it is not easy to survive her intense gaze
it is not easy to look back into her eyes
when she is looking at you w too much emotions contained in her eyes
too strong for you to take
she is everything
or nothing
or both
at the same time
she is every shade of every color
simulataneously
Ill overwhelm you
or i can make you question your own existence
cause i dont know any other way
to love
than to make you my all
and to be your all
ill love you w a passion
you have never seen before
but can your feeble heart
take it?
do you think
your calculated actions and diplomatic decisions
will help you then?
you may be fooled by my smile
and my gentle voice in which i talk to you
but there is a lot to me
than what meets your eyes
there will always be more to me
than you ll know
and you may think it is easy to love me
but it is not
you are a dreamer, you are in love with the idea of me
while you remain oblivious of
all the stories behind the words i have not yet written
and the words you ll never see.
It is effortless to fall in love with a poem
but being with a poet is a totally different thing
don't you now agree?

Maybe the reason we spend night after night
staring at a blank paper
is because the words we so desperately need to write,
are words that have not yet been created.

When I first met you, you took me back to the 70’s,
With anarchy, *** pistols and beer soaked blazers,
****** jeans and pipe dreams and your love for jumping off of tall things
under the impression you could fly,
You spoke to me and I felt the whole weight of my body collapse down,
And to this day I thank my knees for not buckling.

I am not pink lace and bony knees
I am not please and thank you
I am now and because I said so

I am ripped jeans and skinned knees
I am not a thin wafer
I am a loud tongue

my body has never once been a temple
I am a volcano erupting at random intervals
I burn everything I touch

some are born with a silver spoon in their mouth
I was born with a hunger
for something I have yet to taste

I have never been meek
A proper lady
A lamb

I am harsh worded
I speak like a grater
I leave bruises and burns

I am a sinkhole
And if you're not careful
I will swallow you up

Maybe I don't understand
the Laws of Physics or
Stellar evolution,
but I know that
your atoms are composed of stardust
Maybe this is why the life in your eyes
is illuminating everything like a carbon giant.

In astronomy they told us
that the darkest parts of space
often contain the most energy
And I thought you should know,
that just like the ancient galaxies inside of you,
your darkest parts still shine.