I find it strange,
That without the sound of sirens, yelling, and gunshots,
I manage to feel unsafe.
That the sound of grasshoppers keeps me up at night.

If there's absolutely nothing going on,
Then something is terribly out of place
because I've come to terms with the fact that the world is a dangerous place.

Please.
Make me feel safe again,
These long months with out your touch
have left me to feel abandoned.
I need it to breathe.

I've been drowning in my own emotions,
I can feel Love filling my body,
Joined by Fear,
and finally Desperation takes whats left of my breaths,
fills my lungs and pushes out all hopes to breathe again.

I've been drowning in my own emotions,
and you're the only life preserver.

Before you,
love became a foreign language,
one that I was once fluent in,
but forgot how to even recognize.

Before you,
my heart was a cold place,
It was scarred,
bandaged,
stitched together,
and torn again.

The word Love consisted of faint memories of happiness,
and strong memories of heartbreak,
neglect,
lies,
and pain so strong I thought I could die.

I was afraid to love again.

But then there was you.
You mended my heart right before my eyes.
You made me believe that I was beautiful,
because that's what you told me with your honest brown eyes.
You melted the rock hard ice around my heart,
and removed the chip on my shoulder.
You redefined the word Love,
filling it with warmth,
and memories of being held,
being kissed,
being important.

You opened up doors,
tore down walls,
and did it all with a smile on your face,
and love in your heart.

A heart that's stopped beating,
A broken hourglass,
Memories of a life once lived,
and torn out pages of an unfinished book,
All lay helplessly on the floor.

Broken glass shimmers on the ground.
The pillows are stained with mascara tears,
and if you listen closely,
you can still hear the sobs that caused them.

A draft that always flows through the broken windows,
has long since blown out the flames of the candles,
and the chill is almost unbearable.

The shadow of the broken girl
still wonders the broken halls,
Eternally searching,
For the one thing she'll never find again.

Shh.
Listen closely,
You'll hear the sound of children
Screaming "Daddy, don't leave me".

Listen closely,
You'll hear mothers crying
Because they don't know how to put a roof over their babies heads
Or feed them

Listen closely,
You'll hear the gunshots of hatred
Both across the ocean
And in our own neighborhoods.

Shh.
Don't listen too closely.
For a second,
Let's choose not to hear the clock
Ticking life away,
But our hearts beating life into us.

Let's choose not to hear the sobs,
But the laughter made of inside jokes
And a little too much sugar.

And if hearing the good
without the bad
means we're being ignorant
Then maybe ignorance really is bliss.

We all had a favorite pair of jeans in the 6th grade,
They fit just right,
Like they were made just for us.
Eventually we outgrew them.

You were my favorite pair of jeans.
In the 6th grade our hearts fit perfectly together,
In the 7th the fit got a little snug,
But we convinced ourselves that it was still the same.
Now we're four years older.
Our perfect fit is long outgrown.

Cleaning out my closet,
I look at those jeans.
They are 3 sizes too small,
With rips and tears
That we tried so desperately to patch up,
For fear of letting this go.

There are stains from mascara tears,
And words written in sharpie
That can never be erased.
Trust me,
I tried.

With a heavy heart,
I put my hand into the pockets
And find memories of our past.
I'll keep them in a box close to my heart,
But it's time to throw the jeans away.

Hi
I think I know you
No, you've never actually met me before,
But I think I've seen you in his eyes,
every time he looked at me.
I think I've heard you in his voice,
every time he said I was beautiful.
And I think I've heard your name in his heartbeat.
I’m pretty sure he only closed his eyes when he kissed me,
so that he could pretend it was you.
When he held me I could feel him trying to somehow shape me into you.

I know you don’t have a clue who I am.
I also know that he loves you.
And that I hate you.

If I ever do meet you in person,
I’m probably gonna punch you in the face.
Sorry.
It’s nothing personal.
I've just been you for a little too long.
So it’s only fair that if I hurt,
You do too.