some nights I stay up way passed the time you fall asleep just to listen to whether you'll scream to get out of a hidden reality of if you'll moan fighting to stay in one.
some nights I'll be kissing down your chest, no matter how content you'll look, my hands still manage to tremble down porcelain skin like the first night I ever touched you. glancing up because you're a horrible liar with the most stunning eyes and unwelcome hands are nothing more nothing less they are unwelcome and to think my hands could do more harm than good and I could not even know it.
you are art work. you are a story.
everyone near you is always eager to know more, dig deeper, find out what pushes and pulses through your veins
curiousity didn't **** the cat, a greedy society killed the cat.
always begging to know more, thinking there's entitlement and deserving throughout their blood like what is yours is theirs for the taking.
I want to walk in the sun with you
I want to kiss each of your fingers over and over
I want to remain what you want but I know how unwanting makes you rain guilty, I will run before I become another bullet point on why you keep screaming

he used to love the color red, but once the storms hit, red changed from love to blood in a matter of seconds and go ahead ask him what his favorite color is, you'll never get an answer because she loved every color there was and he can't get the taste of rainbows on stormy days out of his mouth.

An Open Letter To The First Boy I Loved

Alternatively known as “An Open Letter To The Boy That Calls Me Crazy.”

The first words you ever “said” to me were in a facebook message,
A picture of your lined arms attached, reading,
“Hah, I’m sorry, but I saw your picture of your scars and felt like showing you these.”

The first thing I should have done was run.
Not only were you immediately trying to make me feel bad
Before I had even uttered a word,
But you were already one-upping me,
Making me feel like you had been through so much more.

I admit my mistake of having shown my weaknesses online
At such a young age,
Hardly 14,
But having grown to a world of romanticized trauma,
I felt it was only normal to have issues of my own,
Whether they were exaggerated or not.

The saddest part of these issues having been forced upon myself
Is the fact that at one point I did not need them,
But now I feel like I would be nothing without them.
I do not blame you for their worsened behavior,
But before I met you,

I had never felt like a ****.
I had never actually made myself bleed to the point of soiling a shirt.
I had never actually attempted to take my life.

Though knowing I had these scars,
It seemed you knew how easily I’d fall into you,
Fall for you,
Looking for comfort in knowing I was not alone.

You persuaded me into kissing you.
You persuaded me into losing my virginity in the back of your mom’s car
While she was in your house on a cold September night.
It was rushed.
It was rough.
There was blood.
And you did not care.
“It’ll be quick, don’t worry.”

In the six months we were together,
I willingly had *** with you twice.
Every other time ****** acts occurred,
(which was over forty times)
You guilted me.
You told me that you deserved it.
You asked if I really loved you.
You told me I needed to show you that I loved you,
You told me that it was what love really was.

I never told you how many times I cried after you left.
I never told you how many guys I kissed after you,
And how every single one made me cry
Without saying a word.
It was the simple intimate touch--
Lips, even if gentle, pressing together--
That sent fear rolling through my body.

It was three months after you broke up with me.
Three months after you admitted that you cheated on me,
It was the day you asked me to go on a walk with you.
The day we could become friends again,
Start over,
Ignore that I still loved you,
Try again.
You insisted you still loved me
(Though now I doubt you ever did).
You insisted that you
Never wanted to hurt me,
And bent me over a tree in the woods
Behind the high school,
And said it would
“Just be in and out! Once!”
And I begged you to stop.
You slapped me,
You called me a ****,
And when you finally finished,
You started to panic.
You were begging me to say that
You
Didn’t
****
Me.
Through my own tears,
My own confusion,
My own pain,
I assured you,
“No, you're okay. It'll all be okay.”

It has been over two years since that day.
Since then, I have opened myself up to one person.

That man has since left me.
One of the contributing factors
Being that he was worried I was not over you.
He kept receiving messages from you,
Messages you sent claiming I would never stop loving you,
When this is the closest thing to hatred that I have ever felt,
Messages you sent claiming I would always think of you,
And what’s terrifying is I can’t help thinking of you--

It's only because I can’t get the nightmare
Of your touch
Out of my aching skull
And I don’t want you to feel victorious,
And it terrifies me that you do,
Because not only did you push me,
Not only did you threaten me,
Intimidate me,
**** me,
But you insisted I’d spend the rest of my life with you,
You disoriented my visions of love
Like a bad LSD trip,
And I’m so ******* scared it will never ******* end,
Because every time I see myself trying to hug,
Kiss,
Love,
Trust someone,
I see what you did to me and I know that it’s
Baggage to them,
But a ball and chain on me,
And I’m petrified.
These memories are bars keeping me from moving onto happier things,
Keeping me holed up, waiting for you to finally let me go,

Stop telling people that I’m crazy,
Stop whispering my name when you pass me in the hall,
Stop following my social media,
Stop following the people that I try to let in,
Stop ******* with my life,
Stop ******* with my head,
Stop ******* with me,
Leave me the **** alone,

The first words you ever “said” to me were in a facebook message,
With a picture of your lined arms attached, reading,
“Hah, I’m sorry, but I saw your picture of your scars and felt like showing you these.”

I never thought I’d have more scars than that.
Over 146 scars,
The police department proved it when they showed up at your house
The night you tried to **** yourself,
And told me it was my fault.

The scars I have aren’t physical.
Not all of them, at least.
But the problem with scars is they don’t just go away.
They go away with time,
And it’s hard to let them heal when you’re still leaving them there today.

I’ve tried telling the police what you’ve done.
I’ve tried telling counselors,
They haven’t done anything;
There was never enough proof,
It happened too long ago.
I can’t do anything to prove it.
Instead I’m left to see you daily.
Instead I’m left to hear you whisper about me.
Have people ask me questions about the things they’re hearing
Things you say.

This is an open letter to the first boy I loved.

I say boy, because
The only thing I’m certain of anymore,
Is you will never
Be a
Man.

The pain I felt when I would think of you, that's gone now. Every single memory of you I had hits me like a wreaking ball. Anger is the only emotion I have towards you anymore. You used to be the one punching walls. You used to be the one with the clenched fists and red face. But the tides have turned. Now I just lay down with ****** knuckles and tears streaming down my face as I let every single knife you stabbed in my back go deeper and deeper. One day, I won't be able to breathe from burning my lungs with cigarettes. One day, I'll take too many pills because they were always nicer to me than you were. One day, I'll stop I castracising all these wounds, only to leave more. One by one the people in my life will drop like flies, just as you did. One day, I will be gone, and no one will care.

No one told me growing up would be like this. I was never warned I'd be stuck in a circle of constant drinking and drugs and smoking. I was not aware my arms would be covered in blood as I choked down more and more pills until the pain was gone. No one told me any of this would happen and it's not fair

Ever since I was young I was never enough and I fell under the radar of your disrespect towards women, yet I myself was not anywhere near a woman. A ***** yet only 11 because bra straps showed and I had an opinion.
My voice was made to cross mountains and echo in thoughts of those too blinded by hatred to ever open their minds.
My voice was made to inspire the young minds of beautiful girls pushed down and limited by society's standards.
My voice may not always be strong and loud and it may not be heard 800 miles away but my voice is existent and my voice will change lives and my voice will allow comfort into hearts that have never felt acceptance.
I was not blessed with a voice to speak ignorance, I was not blessed with a mind to keep it closed.

I thought of falling in love and your hands trace my thoughts like every word I mutter could mean everything at that moment and I live in constant demand of your arms around my waist and your lips pressed against my neck yet I runaway every time I get close enough to feel your breath
but the further I run the closer you pull me in never letting me get far enough away to forget your name completely and my lips only know two tastes anymore and it's ***** strung with your name
while I repetitively try to wash the stain you leave behind but it only keeps growing and you're not even here, yet I can feel your hands on my skin and I'm tearing at everything, trying to break free of your arms when all I wanna do is fall into you

To belong to something as beautiful as the sea offers a peace that jumping just might bring
To be a part of the waves your body so much craves and to linger in the waters everytime you soak your feet my touch hides beneath the sand so bury your hands as deep as you can my love hides in the sun so never stray from the light and my soul lives in the ocean so swallow the water and pretend I'm there with you tonight.

remember when you laid me back and told me you needed to kiss every inch of my body, you needed to feel the skin that begged for you under your lips, no matter what words I string together everything about that night sounds like sinful lust when in all reality your lips kissed every bruise, cut, and bad memory away in the most innocent way possible and when you turned me over and ran your fingers down my spine before placing chapped lips of heaven on my shoulders releasing every pounding rhythmic weighing stress that knotted in my bones I knew at that moment I would spend forever in the miserable regret that being eerie to commitment would leave because no matter how much we loved, screamed and craved each other, the time could never be more wrong and I hope that one day my lips can kiss every broken freckle on your skin again.

tracing the words 'already gone' into crumpled up sheets I couldn't find the sanity to wash your forevers out of
spitting up blood yet only tasting your name floating out of everyone's mouths like your name was anything less than holy
kissing every vein down your perfectly pieced body because god took lightning and ran down your skin leaving a road map to guide every blonde haired beauty to a one night hotel called your arms
running my finger tips down every part of your body you finally let the thunderstorms in your head touch long enough to leave a damage that left you on a search for a pain reliever that didn't scream her name