There comes a time for realizations.
Realize you aren't perfect so you shouldn't try to
conform to society's shiny little frame of perfection because
it's artificial but defy definitions of
traditional beauty and perfection and create your own meaning
of flawlessness.
Realize beauty from the ashes is the
purest kind of all because
all the ugly has been burnt away.
Realize that the monsters you used to be
afraid of under your bed
are not what you should have been
fearing but the ones inside of your head,
whispering to you alongside
your inner demons and there are things
in life far scarier than the dark.
Realize there are certain types of cold
that are not wintery or measured in temperature,
the kind you don't feel but you become
and that the worst screams are silent
and not produced by lungs
but glassy eyes instead and silence
can be loud and sometimes
just because you are standing in a crowd
doesn't mean you can't be horribly lonely.
these realizations are the definition of pain
but if you trace your scars far enough back
you will find that it was all worth it
considering what you learned in the end.

Right now you could turn around
and walk away
you could save yourself so much of that
You could save yourself the pain
and the anger
and the resentment
and the screaming
and the lonely cold nights
of regrets
and aching sadness
missing what you had
You could save yourself the happy days
before it falls apart
You could save yourself from an experience
that strengthens you even if it turns out for the worse
the days you finally smile again
after being so isolated for so long
You could save yourself the waking up grinning
and the nights that feel like they last a beautiful forever
and the lovely memories that haunt you
save yourself the fear of risking that brokenness
and all that possible pure joy
Or...

Please repost if you are going to act on that OR... in your life
Please comment I love to read interpretations of my poetry!

He spoke with an accent
He was warm and strong and free
He never gossiped he didn't like chocolate
And in the way I liked him... he didn't like me.
Playfully we threw dandelions
Back and forth laughing that day
What he didn't know
Was that I wished for him on every seed he threw my way
I liked the way he laughed
I liked his ironically chocolate eyes
But most of all I liked his soul
I liked how he never told me lies
But my friend liked him first
Per usual I place last
But I'm fine I'm fine I'm fine
I'm used to blending in with the shadows I cast
He even called me pretty once
He didn't mean it though
When my friend told him I liked him
He simply said: I know

Grandpa brought me a dolly
With golden curls on her head
Dolly’s eyes so blue
Her cheeks a rosy red
I left her on my shelf
But when I woke up at 1
She stood near my toy shelf
Near a plastic gun
Then I closed my eyes again
But I woke up at 2
And she was halfway to by bed
So I ignored her not knowing what else to do
Then she was at my dollhouse
When I woke up at 3
Her eyes were dark and demonic
Staring right at me
I swear I saw her blink
When I woke up at 4
And saw my dolly standing
Beside my closet door
When I woke up at five
She was at the foot of my bed
But I didn’t get to sleep again
Because I was dead.

Happy Halloween!!
Please repost if you love Halloween!
Please comment! I love to read interpretations of my poetry! Especially long ones! Or if you have a creepy doll, or Halloween or ghost story! :)

Telling someone who is honest enough with you to admit they suffer the pain of feeling eternally unbeautiful that they are being annoying and making you uncomfortable and falsely self-deprecating, vain and attention seeking is like telling someone who is continually being stabbed that their screaming is annoying and making you uncomfortable and they are faking their agony and being overdramatic and attention seeking. Certain pains you just can't see. It doesn't mean they don't hurt and burn and shatter you. There are different kinds of pain. And this one is anguish like no other.

Just look at what we left shattered in the shadowy night
Just look at the wreckage
we left from the fight
I always like to play with fire you know
You're nothing like the flames I'm used to though
isn't it cold there all alone
where no one's around to hurt you
with no one but your pride there
to help you through
and the favorite of your fears
is my treason
mine's the way
you change your mind like the seasons

If Love could fall in love
Maybe She would leave us mortals be
Maybe She’d quit cursing us
If She could feel the agony
Of seeing the one you love in your mind every moment
And knowing they can’t see you
Not in the way that you view them
But you can’t let them go no matter what you do
Or if she could feel the anguish
Of loving another soul so much it hurts
And that love is why it hurts so bad being unable to forgive them
After they shove you in the filth and dirt
When someone who has passed this life
Is the only one your heart can think of
That crumbling feeling might halt Her cruel games
If Love could fall in love

If Love has hurt you before to, please repost.