Why is it that when an evil man performs a good deed, he is not considered good
But when a good man indulges in evil temptation, he is now considered evil himself?
Why is it that when a child acts like an adult, he is not treated as one
But when an adult acts like a child,
he is now talked about as one?
Why is it that when an atheist hopes his beliefs are wrong; that there is a god, he is not considered religious
But when a religious man questions his beliefs, everything he says is blasphemous?
Why is it that when a ***** denies *** once, her title isn't removed
But when a ****** has *** with only one man, she is now forever known as a *****?
Why is it that when she fights for him, she's crazy and desperate
But when he fights for her, it's romantic and mature?
And why is it
That we must put everything into categories
Why can't I be me
And you be you
And that's all.
The world would be so much simpler
If we weren't organized

For that boyish smile
I'd give it all up
I'd walk a mile
Perhaps even run.

Those burgundy bright eyes alone
Could have me walking down the aisle
And when you're sad it pains me to the bone
Tell me what to do to get that frown to disappear for a while

So I guess I love you
Forget that, it's not a guess, not anything of the sort.
I love you more with each hello, and each goodbye too
I love you even when you annoy me with one of your smart retorts

As minutes turn into years
Less people pretend to care about your tears

I'm not particularly fond of the yearning
This craving for what made the black hole
Shrink; disappear into itself.
For what made the glassy eyes
And the whispers filled with  cries
Dry and silence.
For what made a once quivering lip
Come to a halt, and a crying girl smile.
No, I do not long for the person that did this.
Not for the one that emitted the happiness.
I
Simply,
Solely wish for the happiness itself.
The ecstatic racing in my body-
It almost made me sick.
All the fear, the sadness, the panic
Dissolved; replaced by this person's power.
I just want the feelings back.
With that said,
This poem is in slight code
Because I refuse to give you the satisfaction
Of telling you what you think you know.

How naive it was of me
To think that you could ever
Ever
Hate me as much as I do.
Impossible
You could never.
Nobody could,
Not a single human being
Could ever feel the gut-wrenching,
Horrid,
Tear-jerking hatred for me
That I feel.
Nobody could ever want to get rid of me
As much as I do.
Nobody could ever think I'm as worthless
As I know I am.
And nobody could ever
Ever love me
Like I wish they could.
Pointless.
Irrelevant.
Trash.
And just who could love that.
I hate me.
I HATE ME.
And as the sobs drown out the anger,
the burns replace the skin,
And the pain covers my heart,
I bury my face in my hands
And cry some more.
What's the point of staying
In the middle of this internal war?