The more poetry I read
The more air I fill my lungs with to yell out the words as a tribute to one of the most beautiful artforms
I discover
No words are good enough to convey true feeling
Words will own belittle it, make out of the world emotion seem less, make incredibly untangible things grab able.
But you can’t stand with a feeling in your hands - yes, that was a metaphor
And the art of poetry is trying too belittle it as little as possible.
A mission to describe something indescribable with words as your only tool.
Explaining something you don’t truly know what is or feel is hard.
People don’t feel the same way or share same emotions.
Even every single human experiences love in different forms, different emotions.
How do you communicate your version, so that it can be understood?
Poetry and the spoken word should never be forgotten, but praised.
Let us show the world it is not an old dusty artform but an innovative reflection of today’s world.

You're the smartest person I know
Also the dumbest, because you keep making stupid decisions and take stupid actions
The biggest one being falling in love with me
This inevitably makes you not only dumb, but an idiot
Since I'm a selfish person, I can't help but take advantage
So with every passionate kiss we share, I'll take a little more of your soul till one day you'll end up a dried out shell on some unknown beach.
Simply because I wanted a little more than you should ever give.
You're also an idiot for not realizing what you do to me.
What having your love does to me. I’m obsessed and I’m no longer functioning properly because all I want to do is be with you.
Want to feel your caress on my hands, your timid kisses. I want everything
So I’ll give you my all. Give you all of me.
Afraid of one day leaving you for a new adventure, leaving you only with false hope
As soon as the wind blows and the leaves turn I- I got to go
You made me realize: All I do is leave people
Beautiful, sweet people that don’t deserve to be left
And I never want to leave you, but I’m not sure if I can help it.
It’s not like a fairytale where you as the knight comes and rescues the damsel in distress.
I’m neither a distressed damsel nor a fair lady who needs to be saved and crowned princess, and will never be.
I destroyed my tower and ran away all on my own.
When you  found me in the forest of the ****** I needed love, and I needed hope.
You gave that to me.
I hope I can return it.

There's something undeniable in your eyes
I'm a simple mosquito attracted to that light
You're the water that makes me blossom and gives me life

You're the little bit of oxygen in otherwise nitrogen filled air
You're in my blood - or maybe just my blood? - pumping through my vains.

I need you now more than ever.

I’m completely utterly LOST.
My body was L-O-S-To a mind who thought it would be prettier in a size 0
My soul was L-O-S-To the expectations I saw around me
My heart is L-O-S-To a boy with big brown eyes
My confidence is L-O-S-To the people who talk silently in the corner, and my courage has always been gone.
My mind is L-O-S-To my own worst enemy - myself
I was completely utterly L-O-S-Till I realized that I was L-O-S-Time
will heal all wounds they say but what if the wounds are completely utterly L-O-STains
in my heart, my mind, my soul.
Then what do you do?
I yearn to be F-O-U-N-D

...my mom tells me as she tucks me to sleep.
Her eyes are bright blue with similarities to the Tenerife Sea. Solid, bright but with an icy touch. I believe her.
Then my eyelids flutter open after a kiss and I stare into a young man’s brown eyes. Solid, deep, full, sincere, warm. I trust him more than I should.
My own eyes aren’t that easy to decode. They’re a complete mess.
A chaos of color conflicting with eachother, instead of settling on one.
Blue when I wake up,but  green when I step outside.  
If eyes really are the windows to the soul what does that say about me?
Am I splatters of different colors floating around like petals in a mysterious endless lake in the forbidden part of the forest?
Am I a rainbow only to be seen clearly when both rain and sun hits upon me?
Am I a bouquet filled with different flowers plucked different places with different stories?
Forests are easy to get lost i.
Lakes are easy to drown in.
Rainbows are not tangible.
Flowers are pretty but their lifespan is short after having been plucked.
I wish I wasn’t a chaotic mess.
That I wasn’t torn in between the things I want, the things I can, the things I have, the things I want to be.
I hope that one day my eyes and mind will make up their will.
But for right now, I my eyes may stay a chameleon.
Only seen by those who really see.