I thought I was hearing voices, just a second ago
I laughed when I realized, because I should already know
I am not hearing voices, there aren't two or three
there is only one voice, and that's all there will ever be
the voice of you, like a snake
leaving broken bits of me in your wake
I can't lie and say
that I don't hear your slithery voice everyday
I don't hear voices, I swear it's true
the only voice I ever hear is the voice of you

I would climb mountains
Hijack cars
Walk 26 days
And almost die
If that meant I could hug you
Even one time

Perfect doesn't mean without imperfections
Because imperfections are lovely
Perfect means that I wouldn't have to you any other way
So when you say you're not perfect
Because you've made some "mistakes"
I want to cry
Because those mistakes are beautiful
Because they are part of you
And you my friend,
Are perfect

Stay extraordinary,
I love you

bracelets

those things made of strings
were given with love

a secret promise lies in every one I (s)wear

still, it’s broken
and
it’s
all
my
fault

one because I pulled too hard
one because it ripped apart
one because I got it that way
one because it didn’t work anyway
one because I lost it
one because it never fit

I love my bracelets
but every one I wear
finds its way to never wear

they give me new ones
but they don't hold
still the only one that survives
was given far too long ago

now here I am
with my jar full of broken promises
cause I don't give up
broken or not
all cause I loved too much

and see what’s the price

a jar I keep

every single one
broken
in hope not to be forgotten

i think i was meant
to be a flower --
maybe a tulip.
soft,
sunlit,
open.
but i spent
way
too
long
wilting away
before i even got the chance
to bloom.

there were summers
i didn’t feel.
playgrounds i left
way too early.
and dresses i never wore
because i didn’t feel pretty --
or skinny enough
to.

i wanted to run
along the beach
with my group of friends,
laughing,
smiling.
but i was too shy.
too scared
they’d make fun
of the way i run.
so i didn’t go.

i’m only fifteen,
but some days
i feel like
my petals
already fell.
like i was just
too late.

and maybe one day,
i’ll grow again --
maybe as an orchid.
maybe softness
isn’t something you miss,
but something
you return to.

I flinch at the sound
of a hand striking skin
because I know your name.
I shy away from raised, angry voices
because I know your name.
I learn to lie easily
because truth doesn't know your name.
I feel dread appear
in the pit of my stomach
the second you walk in
because I know your name.
and because I know your name
and everything bad associated with it
I
Know
You

Angry
Mad
Livid
Furious
******
At you

Sad
Depressed
Heartbroken
Morose
Melancholy
Because of you

Unbreakable
Strong
Resilient
Flexible
Tough
In spite of you.