I find the idea of soulmates
irritating
The idea that there is one person out there
Floating around in the universe
That you somehow out of 7 billion people
Coincidentally meet and they complete you
Complete you
As if you weren't a whole person before
And suddenly nothing else matters because
They are the One who knows you best
And you couldn't possibly love anyone else
Than this one person in your entire life
What utter crap

*Why is our society so obsessed with falling in love
but not actually being in love?

Mother, I love you but
I hate it when:

You try to mend things as soon as they break
Nothing can be wrong in your perfect kingdom
Did you even consider that Humpty Dumpty
Could not be fixed? That maybe, just maybe
There was a reason he fell and a hug cannot
Change the fact that you just told him you
Hated him for loving the prince?

Or maybe you say that you are on my side
But the second the cavalry arrives
You immediately rush to the king's aide
And leave me with whiplash
As you wipe the yolk from your hands
"Oh my, what a terrible fall?"
Who do you think gave the push?

I don't expect you to understand
The need to go to extremes
Just to feel alive, something
Or the way her words take me
From cloud nine to decimated

I don't assume you'll know why
I suffocate after being inside too long
Yet I can't be tamed when outdoors
Why I never raise my voice when we fight
I just lose it instead

I don't want you to fathom why
I can't trust those I love anymore
And my confidant is you alone
Or if you get too close I run
Why being alone is always better

But if you'll listen you might start to

Sometimes I feel like a lost puzzle piece
The one that somehow skittered under the couch
Unnoticed and unnecessary
Until everyone else has found their places

And it feels like forever
Before that hand reaches out to you
Where you sit with the dust bunnies
That one goldfish and two pennies

And the joy when you are found
Is incomparable because
They need you or the whole puzzle
Is worthless

So hold tight a little while longer

It's funny how when we are young
We're taught to be honest
Told that the truth is the best
By adults who deal only in lies
Because honestly they've learned
To fear the truth
And what do we get in return?
Panic attacks from (just thinking about)
how our parents will handle
precious, treasured truths that
we hold in our hearts and
giddily whisper to each other in the dark
with a sense of danger and adrenaline
Yet we can't help but want to share them
with each other, with adults, with the world
(look how beautiful and new and vulnerable it is
this truth that I've hidden in my heart)
Because we were taught to be honest
We long to be honest
But are afraid our precious truths will be tainted
By this society of lies
Created by people who say they love us and want the best for us
But if they really care that much
Then why
Why make it so painful to let you know
What we want the most
What we think is best
To share with the people we love what we love

Like a fire struggling to light
I send off signals hoping someone will help
Because I  am spiraling
            down
                          down
         and I'm afraid that I'll run out of oxygen
             to stay alight, to be bright
      like I was
Like I was meant to be
Some days I burn myself to exhaustion
Lighter fluid doesn't help if nothing catches
Over and over I try to light
To be the hope in this dark night
So please help
                burn bright with me
            to help those
      who are
          struggling
  burn
     taller

My family has always been strange in that we rename everything
And it always made sense to me
They called me something different depending on how I was acting
They've always done it
Except...
I'm the only one whose nickname changes
Depending on whether
I'm snarky and salty and full of Puck-like mirth
                       or
I'm depressed and growling and listless
                        or
I'm light and smiling and childlike, pure joy

and they never overlap and I wonder
which is the real me?
I wake up and instantly know which kind of day it will be depending
On who I wake up as and it seems that most people can't tell the differences between me and... me.

I've always told people that it doesn't matter what they call me-
I often don't recognise myself in the first place
Eventually I'll figure out who they refer to anyway.