there's blood
between my teeth
and kisses
on my bruises—
the bruises you gave me.

you swore
you'd never touch another girl
the way you touched me.
the way your dad
bruised your mom
because "he loved her."

you saw the devil in me
and you tried to save me
beat her out
of my fragile frame—

i saw the devil in you
with each blow
our demons
our devils
swirled and danced around
the room:

like smoke
from your cigarettes.

i want you to imagine:
waking up with heavy appendages,
not loving yourself,
crying until there are no tears left,
and feeling your heart being broken in two.

i want you to imagine:
waking up even though you feel awful,
getting dressed and getting out the door.
waiting by the bus stop with negativity on your mind,
but you don't cry and all you do is smile.
you choke on your tears and you fight them,
you carry on eating,
even though people tell you you're fat,
and your thoughts bring you down.
you keep living,
you keep doing what you need to.

you are strong for being alive when all you feel like doing is dying.

I knew there was always something different in the way you treated me.
Like i was an outsider,
Walls were miles high.

I had been grafted onto your family tree and you did not like it.
From my pale skin, to blue eyes,
I stole your spotlight:
Without even asking for it.

I befriended your brothers
And i love one.
You are angry and controlling
And where they found fighting in you,
They left it for my peace and friendship.
You did not like this either.

And so you began to grow:
Burying yourself with an envious green moss overriding your whole being.
You never learned how to bask in the joy of others.
You only ever tore it down.

There was a 30 year old man with two daughters.
You pretended to love him because you wanted to feel special.
You stayed because someone once told you both that it was ironic that your names were fighting countries.
Although, Syria and Israel never did get along.
You broke apart
And instead of being happy because others were happy:
You demanded the separation of your brother and i.
In which your mother replied:
"no."
You did not like this either.

To make matters worse,
We became countries at war.
I had never asked for it:
You thought building a berlin wall between your brother and i would change everything.
Even how you felt about yourself.
I am here to tell you it didn't.

I almost lost hope.
You almost won.
But i saw you through the curtains.
I saw the strings on your hands and the puppets of your family dangling from them.
You cannot control them anymore.
They are souls with a divine purpose that does not include you designing their destiny.

I know how to fight my battles.
I have fought with things much more dark and difficult than you and your leaf greens.
I have seen death and I am not afraid.
You think you have the reins of the horse,
You think you're winning this battle.
Unless you have danced with death, you will not have known victory.

hair cut short
bandages around her small
strong
hands.

blisters wear the battle
she fought
she's been fighting—

watch out:
she'll show you
what it takes
to survive in a ring
with your demons.

She wrote her words with her blood,
all her scars were fixed points
in the night sky,
waiting to be solved.
Her deepening desire to free her mind
Drove her quite insane.
the things she kept hidden in the brain
were none she could find answers.
The night often prolonged,
And words grew heavy in her mouth.
The hand never had so much exhaustion
When given the chance to write a page.

She buried herself in work
To forget her own existence and problems.
But long were the nights that pain caught her by the shoulders and shook her.
Long were the nights wet with tears and blood.
It was long since she'd felt herself,
But even longer since she felt content.

We created the universe together,
Dancing through the sky like stars.
There was a music in your soul
That sang to me.

Love is a duet and only true harmony occurs when you find the one.

There is good in every goodbye
that travels from your lips to mine.
An indirect kiss,
Telling me through the cracks
That everything will be alright
to hold on tight to the delicate memories and never let them go.

I can feel your presence with me.
You aren't dead, but you are absent.
You are a living memory in the back of my brain
reminding me
That an ending is the start of a new beginning
and there is good to be found in every goodbye.

i was a young girl,
the age of fourteen,
when my friends were paperback novels.

when the kids used to laugh at me in my face.

i wanted to disappear from the terrible world i was born into.

i found refuge in the yellowed pages,
where the story was not my own,
where their troubles related to mine.
these characters were my only friends.
they held my hand when i cried.
when i was made fun of for being so **** antisocial.

the endings made me so sad.
it was an internal death of an unknown,
unacknowledged soul.

i was the child who read on the bus,
who stayed up too late to read the last of the old pages.

they inspired me to be free.
to live life the best i could.
they gave me hope for a happy ending.

at the age of fifteen,
i scarred my skin.
i'd forgotten the happy endings i used to read about.

i felt like a character in a book when i wilted inside.
when i took the painkillers,
hoping for an overdose.
it was an internal death of an unknown,
unacknowledged soul.

i woke up at the first hour of the day,
unsuccessful,
but successful.

i scribbled on the blank pages of books,
i wrote my soul on the pages and it poured out on the floor like an acidic pool of experiences.

i was a damaged soul,
but daisies grew from the cracks of my heart,
and a new life was born inside an old one.

i am the worst person alive today.
i can't express myself either;
and that's really all i have.
without that i am nothing.
i am a blank sheet of school paper,
without lines,
without holes.
serving no purpose.

there is a fire burning inside of me,
creating a hole inside my chest;
full of disappointment,
sadness,
loneliness.

Today is the day,
where if I'd known nothing
of death and hell,
this day would be my last.

Today would be a good day,
to send away goodbyes in the mail,
and dig DEEP to find my soul,
and let it go.

Today would be good,
but tomorrow brings a better day,
full of hope.
Opportunities.

Today could be the end,
the end of it all.
Tomorrow could be the start
of a new way of life.

Today could,
but tomorrow can.

sensitive is the subject,
when we talk about the moments i could've died.
the moments i wouldn't have spent
next to your side.

you would not have been my
safe haven.
i would never know what it feels like to be burned by your touch
and forever marked by the love you have shown.

i would never understand how to love you even when things get hard.
you would have only remembered me as the shy girl you liked that never said much.

i am so glad
that you have hurt me and loved me
and brought me two years of
indescribable love.

two years of some of the worst pain
and the greatest joy.
they have all been worth it
and i'm glad God gave me a reason to live.
i'm glad you were the reason
i am still here.
even if i didn't know it yet.

i sat silently
and watched the bugs crawl by.
they weren't butterflies,
or caterpillars,
or ladybugs.

i watched the flies
and the crickets
and the ants.
moving in a secret art no one bothered to take note of.

they were the friends i met in the hallway.
they were shy,
but if you looked at them long enough,
you could see the beauty no one else saw.

if you find beauty in the bugs everyone does not find beautiful,
you can find it in others.

people are like bugs,
similar, but different,
each holding their own design.

everyone  has beauty,
you just have to find it.
even if it means sitting in the hallways alone,
watching the bugs no one cares to look at.