I can't help but take offense
when someone calls me weird.
The word is not what I mind.
But the way the person says it,
Like an insult.
Weird.
Weird means I'm not the same
I'm not like the others, that I'm unique.
Weird means I don't wear the same mask everyone else does to fit in.
Weird means I'm unlike anyone you've ever met.
How can an attribute this remarkable
Sound so different when you use it in a sentence?

Thick boundaries separate
the careful,
the careless,
and the carefree

A tall boy wearing a tie and glasses.
A petite girl in a dress and heels.
One attribute keeping him
From telling her what he really feels.

A boy with eyes like autumn
A freckled girl in blue
One word separating them
As she silently says I think I fancy you.

I didn't mind the girl in the mirror.
The way her thighs touched
never bothered me.
She didn't have a small waiste
Nor an hour glass figure
Those things were never significant.
I've cared for my body
Grown in it
Accepted it.
The thing I don't like about my body
Is the pressure from mom
The assurance from sister
The remarks from teammates.
I like my body.
But I seem to be the only one.

I love the way your great brown eyes light up when you beat me at a game.
Your eagerness to teach me chess is nothing short of perfect.
Whatever movie  I suggest to watch, you will always agree and sit by my side.
And when I bake cupcakes, or burn them or destroy them, no matter what, you will munch on them and insist they are fine.
My favorite is when I sing a line to a song, and you hum the tune throughout the day, like a small bird.

If sweet words coursed through my veins
Instead of the thick crimson
If every cut or bruise spelled out
terms of endearment
I wouldn't need you, darling
I've got a family with favorable opinions
To acknowledge my triumphs

If I fed my body time
Seconds between hands or lips meeting
If calories were moments
Shared between two kindred spirits
I still wouldn't need you, dear
I've got friends with open hearts
To maintain my well-being

If promises were fluid
and life flourished where it spilled
If secrets were essential
And the key ingredient to finding yourself
I would never need you, love
I've got myself
And that's enough.

Help I've fallen in love with a stranger across the room and the words are tangled in my throat and my anxiety is welling up in my stomach and I would love to make the acquaintance of  the boy with the interesting eyes who noticed me in the slightest bit

I'm not sure what I believe in anymore
Whether it be a god or humanity or myself
I'm not sure what I stand for
But I know I refuse to be walked on
God says he want his children to be meek and humble
But in this world
It is hard to be meek
It is hard to be humble
In a technology ridden world that requires grit and arrogance

A bit braver,
a bit daring,
a bit breathtaking,
a bit optimistic,
a bit spontaneous.
To become this great adventurer, two ingredients are necessary:
An ounce of confidence, and a believer.
I believe in everything you do.
Now all you must do is convince yourself.

I've never been in love, but it must be like waking up from a lovely dream.
It's probably something like a road trip without a destination.
I hope it's that feeling in your stomach as the roller coaster is dropping, electricity coursing through your veins.
Maybe it's like a camera, freezing moments that feel like forever.
I bet its something like the glittering embers in the sky, just after a firework burst into a dozen lights.
I'm sure love is like a constellation, where you can connect the dots to create a story.
Love must be like rain drops on a window, accumulating slowly, then racing to the brim of the frame.
I think love is like an eclipse. The sun and the moon circling the globe, in search of each other. And when they finally meet, the world stops to watch.
For me, I know love is a dusty typewriter, waiting for its story to be written.

I spend a lot of time

free inside my mind

I dream of a vacant room

with only a mirrored wall

and polished wooden floors

The lilac stereo blasts my favorite songs

and i dance the rythmic ways

ive been dreaming of for days

sometimes, the lilac doors creaks open

and someone i don’t know the name of

dances with me.

I spend a lot of time

free inside my mind

I dream of a vacant room

with only a mirrored wall

and polished wooden floors

The lilac stereo blasts my favorite songs

and i dance the rythmic ways

ive been dreaming of for days

sometimes, the lilac doors creaks open

and someone i don’t know the name of

dances with me.

She was face down on a red mattress
Probably recalling her short life
Probably not remembering me
Probably not thinking of the closing school we used to drag ourselves to
I wonder if she knew she was dying there
I wonder if she knew her last few moments in this life
Would be suffering from a kind bullet
Maybe she was crying silently
Maybe she was thinking of her lonely mother
Maybe she was thinking Of the scars she left
Maybe she was wondering what the black and white headlines would be
Maybe she was wondering how She got involved
She was definitely dreaming that
She could go back and do it right

I often wonder how some people have grown so miserable and stiff.
I always venture to think that they were once free and loving, open to wild thoughts and crazy goals.
But someone must have broken them.
Someone shattered those dreams they created.
A sad person transformed another into a life of misery.
Someone broke their reality
Their ambitions
Their heart.
And they are still recovering, trying to cope.
I used to treat the  bitter like they treated me, but I've learned that kindness is what they need
To be pieced together,
To be whole again.

If you want your children to love and respect you
do not belittle them.
Do not dismiss their problems because you think them small;
They are vaster than the sky in your child's eyes.

If you want your children to love and respect you
do not tell them they are worthless; they will spend half their lives believing it anyway
do not speak over them.
do not only wait for them to be done complaining, but listen.

If you want your children to love and respect you
Do not take your anger out on them
If you're parenting correctly, they will never mean to hurt you
accidents do happen.

If you want your children to love and respect you
above all, do not hit them.
The wild look in your eyes will haunt them
they will cower in fear when someone raises a hand to them.

If you want your children to love and respect you
love and respect them.

She was the moon.
Fair, serene, and powerful.
He was the sun.
Luminous, warm, and strong.
Unknowingly chasing each other around the globe,
Growing weary,
Becoming hopeless,
Until an eclipse.
And the whole world stopped to watch,
as the pair met in the ebony sky.

I knew I would want you from the minute I saw you.
Tall, dark hair, indecipherable eyes that I swore were blue (they were green)
And you were shy.
God, anything but that.

So I did the usual.
I found out your name
And it was wonderfully unique
Your age
Just a year older than me

I knew you wouldn't pursue me
After I've heard you speak.
So I was quiet the whole summer
Kept my distance
Until I realized that I had to do all the work
So I went out of my way to talk to you
Talked about the weather
Talked about work
You were polite enough
And laughed on cue
And I thought
I can't let this one get by

So I messaged you on Facebook
It took every ounce of courage I ever had
And we've been texting ever since
But I still don't know anything about you
Or your family or your life
All you tell me is school and boredom
And you don't seem to find me interesting.
You didn't text me at all yesterday
Or today

And I don't really care all that much.

Because you're not worth it if you fail to see the awesomeness that is me.

As much as I want you
And think you're cute
And want you in every way
If you don't think I'm anything short of amazing
Then it's never gonna happen.

I was skeptical of you at first
Simply because my wandering eyes haven't met yours prior.
But after we were introduced that one Tuesday morning, I noticed you all the more.
I wasn't sure what my feelings were those first days,
And I still didn't know after a week or two.
But I began to realize it slowly
When I would smile absentmindedly when I was alone, or when I would look at the clock when all the digits matched and I didn't know what to wish for.
Or that late night I saw a star fall, and I just wished for us. Or when my favorite color became your eyes.
I chastise myself for not holding your hand, for not leaning against you, for not showing my affection.
Now I realize the little things I miss. The unusual ordinariness which your existence depended on.
I miss you complaining about the sport you play but hate. I miss you geeking out over your favorite comics.
I won't forget my favorite night. When we just sat in the car and talked about nothing and anything. When I hummed along to a song you said you weren't sure you liked, but you hummed too. When you remembered something I said, and I looked at you in awe.
I miss the night where my feelings blossomed, when I began to be comfortable, when I knew what I wanted. I wanted the tall skinny smart guy who was adorably awkward.
I don't blame you for wanting another over me.
I wouldn't want me either.

You're lovely and you're loved.
I think you're breathtaking, and I sometimes envy the beauty you don't see.
You're delightful, the way you speak and walk and read.
You're downright enthralling, and I wonder why you chose me, of all people, to read your story.
You're so ******* yourself, and I can't find the words to say how wonderful you really are.

The quiet color gray
Is bashful and shy
Doesn't have much to say
And likes to be passed by

Lives to dance
Between colors and hues
But when given the chance
Gray can impress you.

January
I told myself this was the year
My heart was sore and my thoughts were heavy
I kept to myself and hated being bothered
I didn't like living too much

February
I admitted I was my own problem
But I sat
And I waited
For my world to change for me.

March
Feeling unbelievably numb to life
And watching time go by in flashes.
I learned to observe and I learned that writing soothed anxiety quite well

April
I didn't write.
I don't remember what I did.
It must have been dull.

May
I dreamed about escaping my personal confinements.
However, I didn't.

June
I loved the sun.
I got a job.
I felt indifferent.

July
Possibly the peak of my self hatred
I let their words get to me
I tried throwing up. I failed.
I spotted a boy at work.

August
I turned 17
And knew I needed to change.
I created courage on a not so special day
I forced myself to talk to the boy.
And I felt ******* powerful.

September
Junior year began
I did things I loved and
Quit things I didn't

October
I slowly realized
That if I loved myself
The world will too

November
Boys lined at my door
But I never cared for them
I cared only for myself
And I loved every second of everyday

And now it's December
And I've learned that I don't need a new year, new month, or even a new day to start over
I am not bound by any measurement of time
And if I want to change
I have the power to.

She's the white sheets, unkept but alive with warmth.
She's the overlooked blank page before the book begins.
She's a silver cloud at night, giving the moon time to rest.
She is the smallest Russian doll, the one very few have the patience to find.
She is the tip of a tower, her mind so above and beyond the clouds, only some venture to look up.
She is the flicker of a candle, unsteady but radiant.
She appears to be simple and quiet.
But after she finds the right person to read her story, she is very complex and large.
And once she is found, you can never forget her.

I want mornings filled with lovely thoughts and sweet coffee, with you by my side and hope for the new day.
I want long nights with the moon at its peak, stars falling for us, teeming with the uncontrollable laughter of all our best friends.
I want my life to be an endless vacation, with beauty in everything I see.

Spare me your empty words
and these helpless cries of affection
You can save these texts for another girl
And use them without recollection

You can't "win" me
Or anyone, for that matter
I can choose you, or I can choose myself
I won't apologize, I'll take the latter

I am a person
I've seen your antics and I'm quite done
don't save room for me on your shelf
I am not a prize to be won.

In the mornings, I love myself
From the flecks of blue surrounding my pupils, to the fragile bones in my hands.
In the afternoons, I'm not sure.
I grow indifferent to this in-between body, not ugly but not pretty.
During the nights, I hate myself
From my disproportioned legs to my artificial smile.

I didn't mean to look at you like that.
I didn't think of you much prior.

But you made your way in my head
And you didn't even try.

The words came so easily for me
I've always had a problem with that,
But not with you.

you were so effortlessly funny
I laughed every **** class

I had been looking for a tall boy with blue eyes and a dark personality
Instead I found a medium height boy with amber eyes who had no idea what he was doing in the best way

I didn't know I was gone
I think you knew before I did

I thought about you after our hands grazed
How corny is that?
I don't really care.

I had a dream about you next. I didn't know what to think.
I told my best friend.
She smiled.

i knew I was gone
when we couldn't contain ourselves
Your hands outstretched to mine playfully
And our smiles just couldn't be hidden

I didn't even have to try to make you like me too
And I think that's the best thing about it

Is this what all those other couples feel like?
I doubt it.
I've been waiting and I've been picky and I was convinced I didn't need anyone
And I still don't need anyone
But I want someone
I want you.

"the world is a terrible place"
is perhaps the biggest lie I've ever been told
the world is a beautiful place
it's the people that are ****** up

Mom forces herself to laugh at something she doesn't find funny.
Brother puffs his room into clouds and colors, in a attempt to experience feeling.
Father forces himself to believe he is still in love with her after the daily fights.
Sister is small and has accustomed to the constant yelling, but runs to her room before the hurricane begins to swirl around her.
I'm stuck in the middle numb to all emotions except for guilt and grief.

To me, you are like peach tea and the sensation in my stomach during the first drop on a roller coaster.
You're the glittering embers in the night sky after fireworks.
Your mind is the tip of a skyscraper, so wonderfully remote, penetrating the white feathers in the sky.
Your sound is the distant rumble of a promising storm, a book page being turned, a sigh of relief.
I feel you in the pinks of my cheeks and in the crevices of my hands.
You are present in all of my favorite things and
You make my world rosy by just existing in it.

So you say you want your life to be beautiful, filled with adventure and exciting events at every corner.
So you say you want your life to be teeming with love, friends welcoming you at the door, family laughing with you, and your lover close by.
So you say you want your life to be happier, because it isn't looking too pretty now, your hopes dripping from the faucet into the drain.
So you say you want your life to be better, so
Make it.

Don't worry about changing the world, you already have by existing in it.

Someone outside is ready to accept you, flaws and all.
They are experiencing some strange and wonderful things and writing stories to tell you years from now.
They are wandering the planet in search of you.
So yes, someone outside is looking for a flawed being like yourself. Except to them you are not flawed. You are anything but.

I was told my body was not ideal
For the sports and activities I wished to do
But I never had a problem with my body
My thighs touched
My body did not resemble an hourglass
But it never bothered me
Until I was reminded daily

So along the way
I stopped at art museums
And found myself particularly staring at the statues and paintings
The women were deemed beautiful
They were not stick thin
They looked healthy
Happy

If that's good enough for marble it's good enough for me.

although sometimes I would rather forget
because it makes it easier to feel sorry for myself
but i am loved
in more ways than one

when my mother is being cruel
and my sister is joining in
my brother's girlfriend offers me her arm
and my oldest brother buys me my favorite foods
even my fair weathered friend calls
and my online friends tell me i don't deserve this
but that i am strong enough to persevere
and my boyfriend speaks with the same fluidity that i do, and sits in silence with me when that is all i need

and it makes me cry
tears light as mist
because i am so loved
and sometimes i cannot see it

Sometimes I find myself observing so much at once
That I become so suddenly aware
How have we as a people become so organized?
Why am I so accepting of my life, this endeavor to prepare just to get a job and raise a family?
I was taught to be content with that
And to worry if that was not what I wanted.
I'm supposed to crave a life that is organized, successful, and long.
However
That is not what I want.
I want a mess of a life
Excitement and endless wondering of what tomorrow will bring me
Beautiful uncertainty

When does my life get exciting?
When will I decide to spend more time with real people
Than my fictional friends in my dog eared novels?
When will my life become one of those stupid high school movies
Where the awkward girl gets the guy she wants?

Please don’t be sad.
There’s an infinite number of better things to be.                                                              ­                                        
Don’t listen when they tell you,
Or you tell yourself,
Anything other than this:                                                            ­                                                                 ­                 

You are not a failure.
You are not a size
Or a number on a scale
Or a letter on a test.
You are nothing short of amazing.
You are your uncontrollable laugh, 
and your large, genuine smile.  
You are your lively eyes when you've been told good news.
You are the pile of books at your bedside, 
and your favorite stories inside them.
You are the words you write without thinking,  
and the tunes you hum absentmindedly.
You are the beauty you see in the world, 
and the beauty the world sees in you.
You are your mind, your endless ideas and thoughts at night.
You are your moments of pure happiness.
You are what you aspire to be.

You are unlike anyone who has ever existed.
You are not what has happened,
you are what’s yet to come.

So please don't be sad,                                                             ­                                                                 ­           There's an infinite number of better things to be. 
Be inspired, or adventurous, or happy, or observant, 
anything but sad.

It is a weak person to be brutal
And it is a brave person to be gentle

Don't worry about changing the world, you already have by existing in it.

There are far too many people to meet,
So many wonders to witness,
Countless pictures to be taken,
Beautiful words to finally speak,
Fond memories to recall,
and Stories to write.

I can't tell you how much you're in my thoughts
Because the words get tangled in my throat
And my cheeks go red at the sound of your name.
I'm too shy to tell you how I feel,
How much I ache for you to notice me,
How I remember our small conversations.
Sometimes I catch you glancing my way,
And sometimes I let myself think you were looking at me.
So I guess I'll settle for the quiet hellos
And the constant dreaming of your hand in mine.

And no
I won't go to bed
thinking about the soft green of your eyes
I won't wonder
how many inches you have on me and
the way my head only measures to your collarbone
I won't dream
of your warm embrace
resting my head on your chest
I won't long
for the feeling of your lips on mine
hands eagerly at my waist
I won't think
about you
At least I'll try

I was confined for countless years
Stranded in a sinking cage
Waiting and waiting and waiting and waiting to be released
One quiet day when
The voice in my head was particularly loud
A light shone through the bars and it was clear that
No one could save me except myself
So I took the walls down
Shattered them with a single touch
And walked over the shards of cowardice
And said "I have been brave all along."

Sometimes I find myself observing so much at once
That I become so suddenly aware
How have we as a people become so organized?
Why am I so accepting of my life, this endeavor to prepare just to get a job and raise a family?
I was taught to be content with that
And to worry if that was not what I wanted.
I'm supposed to crave a life that is organized, successful, and long.
However
That is not what I want.
I want a mess of a life
Excitement and endless wondering of what tomorrow will bring me
Beautiful uncertainty

A man once said that
You are a soul and
You have a body

Life feels wonderful
Now that my mind is more powerful
Than my body could ever be

I think it's quite cute
When I mention the future
And you elaborate on it
And mention me somewhere in what lies ahead for you
And it makes me smile
To think that you don't want to imagine life without me

I wouldn't say I fancy him.
However I caught myself smiling in the shower
I heard my own voice singing a melody I never knew
In my ample time, all of my thoughts returned to him.
But no.
I do not fancy him.

being in love with an idea

is hopelessly dangerous

you’re never sure if you love

what they are

or who they are

I want a hand to cradle mine
I crave soft lips against my own
I long to rest my head on a shoulder
I wish to feel something other than alone

However
Another's hand doesn't seem quite right
The other boys lips just don't do
It seems like I only want one set of hands, lips, and shoulders,
Those that belong to you.