my eyes burn
not only because they beg for sleep
but from the tears shed
too many have fallen
not just today
but in my (short) lifetime

my mind is all over the place
i can't fathom my thoughts very well
i don't know what i want or how i feel
i do know i feel alone
although i am not

i honestly love him
and know he's good to me
good for me

you are trouble
yet why do you continue to walk yourself into my brain?
yet why do i reach out to you?
yet why do you respond to my distress calls?

a few months ago
i would take back what we had in a heartbeat

now things are complicated

i don't know if i can trust you
do you only want me now that i'm with someone else?
would you still want me once you regained me?

yet they get even more complex

yes i may still love you
but i am in love with him as well
he's everything i thought he would be and more
but i'm not so sure the "and more" is positive

he is far mor ****** than i ever imagined
he is far more unstable than I could ever guess

i'm unstable
he's unstable
you're unstable

but you are by far the most stable out of us three
and i was the most stable with you
you were my stability
and when you left you took it with you

i cry a lot
i cry when i'm with him
not because he makes me upset or angry or unhappy
but because i am afraid
afraid to hurt him
and cause more unstableness in him
or get hurt
and lose more stability
or that I can't help him
that is my greatest fear

so why did i message you?
and why did you respond?
why am i feeling conflicted when i am in no dilemma what-so-ever?

is it possible to fall in love with someone while still in love with a different someone?

because i believe i have

and i believe i am going insane
possibly from an overdose
an overdose on love

                           -please send help

a.a.

August wind
           comes
in waves.

It’s goal
           to rip leaves
                      off trees
           standing tall
                      against it.

It bellows out gusts,
           tearing away at flower petals.

The once calm church field,
                                                       a battle ground.
                      A harsh whisper war.
           But soon
           it will
whip away,
                                                             defeated.

Light flutters,
Butterflies escape,
A blind tongue
Babbles wisdom.

The affirmation of which
Came from lost souls
At the crossroads
Of beauty and treason.

Flowers flourish trying
To poke their  
Budding brains
Through the clouds,

Yet none reach so far
As to make a memory,
Or to make a memory fade,
To guide anew the light.

Wise was the caterpillar,
He who had not seen
Perpetual pain
Through the porous sky.

Vision flooding her words.
Hate born of love like
Poison leaking through
The petaled veil.

Hope can be elusive,
Fleeting as a butterfly,
Or a flower that never
Had the chance to bloom.

❦

The wind is blowing tirelessly,
Delicate flowers are falling,
Branches are all shaking vigorously,
And I learn something from them,
No matter how hard the wind may blow,
They only move,
They don't change their shapes and colours,
The flowers may fall but at some point they allow the same wind to blow them into the sky and make them fly.
So I learn that hard situations shouldn't change who we are,
We only need to adjust our attitudes,
Struggles are there to make you a victor,
Like the flower being made to fly by what brought it down,
You let your struggles elevate you.

I wanted to write a poem about flowers, so that's what I did.
It was short, expressed how I feel, and cut like glass.
I showed my father "Flowers" and he thought it was mediocre.
And I said, "No, "Mediocre" is the poem where I talk about dying,
and I'm trying to stay alive, so I wrote about flowers."

Flowers strangling soil plots with their roots, with their existence.
And to hurt something you love with your existence is a terrible feeling.

And I want to tell her that I understand
what it feels like to be fake, insignificant,
and a shadow on the sidewalk of society.

And I want to tell her that I also borrow
the experiences of others --
that I, too, learn feelings
by stopping and staring at personal wreckage,
like a tourist of emotions,
like an inevitable wish of a human being.