Je voudrais etre content avec ma vie,
Mais tu n'es pas content, aussi.
Alors je fais moi-même miserable.
*Pour toi.

Its too early in the morning
But I'm breaking my own heart
Because I'm not good enough
*for you

noose**
One day the necklace broke,
Into a piece of chain and beaded memories
The memories shattered when they hit the floor
A mushroom cloud of dust, glass and pictures.

An image of me smiling here,
And a glimpse of long lost giggles there,
But the most occurring shard,
Is of my crying for the things I've lost.

The little whimper we give out,
Just before we cry;
Before we scream.
When we can no longer hold
The fear inside,
And it's got to find some way
Out.

Live and laugh, broken people.
Your heart is yours to play with.

Shouldn't being the minority make you kinder?
You've known misery, at the hands of the big fish;
The small and unknown get crushed.
But you find your ground and burn your way out
With guns and bombs and *fear.

To be awake for thirty six hours and it not be strange

noose**
Do you like my necklace?
I don't know what it is yet,
Is it rope?
Chain?
Bruises?
All I know is that it weighs me down
A prison cell around my throat
Keeping the bad words in.

I don't understand how people
Can be afraid of mental illness,
When you are so sweet,
And try so hard to be
that tragic type
Of accepted normal.

How's about, with all this preaching
Of acceptance and forgiveness,
We learn to respect conflicting politics
Because in the same way that
A Muslim and a Jew will hold alternative
Views, a tory and labour do too.
Why is it fair to rip apart a communist
For believing in equality or a
Capitalist for believing they should keep
What they earn. We're all out
For what makes our life easier so just
**Back the *******.

Let's drop a glass on the floor, shall we?
Watch it fall.
Focusing on it, the deliberate loosening
Of your hand.
Did the wine inside catch the light?
Did it reflect?
Did you see your eyes, your face?
That small smile.
The smile that shows you know how loud
This will be.
Do you see the base of the glass kiss
The marbled ground?
The first splinter moves up the stem; your
Smile gets bigger.
Splinters spread and the wine blooms
From the cracks.
But no one looks around to see what
The noise was.
They carry on their lives while you
Expect to be
The centre of something for once in
A long while.
You want to turn heads in a room
While you smash.

I would very much not like to breathe air,
That doesn't carry the scent of your skin.

We are perfectionists content with one-another's imperfections, and I am thankful.

The whole point
Of living and dying,
Of hurting and crying
Is to grow and change as a person.

If something I do
Doesn't alter who
I am and was and will be,
I will consider it a waste of my mind.

We're going to see the world through each other's eyes as well as our own and we are going to be just swell. :)

Here was me,
Hoping that I'd find the rest of my pieces
In you.
It took me a while,
To realise that you don't complete me,
But I think I like my edges curvy.

So, everyone in the world must
Have a gender identity. right?

I am coming out as human.
You going to choose how you
Treat me based off that, too?

Fullstop is the name of this poem,
Fullstop is the last word, too.
For isn't that the way life is?
You can't have a capital letter
Sans a fullstop.

so why are we called bent?
our love is as straight and true as yours.
we love in the same way you do,
even if the one we love is also a girl.

you get to be called straight,
lucky you- you dont get the ridicule.
you wont find 'benders' hating on you,
only those on the 'straight' and narrow.

the ones who think their love
is so much purer than ours

I miss laughing.