Carrying the aesthetics of the world
Blending the color pallets of meanings untold
Emotions buried under the surface of reality
Hues, melodious harmonies, background light forming the aesthetic energies of what we want the world to see, how we wish the world would see, how we wish the world would not see
Creating a scene, visualizing a sequence, sweetening the sounds of  the universe.
Art.

Take it away-
Every emotion and strong-will I possess
throw it out the ******* window, as you jump-
wishing your insides would rot in inverse
as you yell back at me to do something-
but you're already falling to your death
and I can't stop the car because its leading me
to my future and I can't stop time
because I'm not ******* god
and I can't take away the hurt though I wish I ******* could.
I. Can't. Do. Anything. Anymore.
It's funny because these words kiss the page
like an abusive uncle that kissed your mother
against her will but you can't tell anyone
because you're trying to keep what's left of your family together-
It's ink, it's permanent and other people have experienced it to
but not like you, oh **** never like you.
So I take what was mine from the ******* start
and hope I can turn something so tragic
into this thing we like to call art, and poetry
but it seems to me I need a ******* lobotomy
because I don't know what to think or feel or do anymore..
All I know is that I had something once,
held it close to my heart like a pistol
and let everyone witness me playing russian roulette with myself
as the clock strikes game over and the gun is fully loaded
they watch as I pull and pull the trigger until I have nothing left
until blood shed is all over the kitchen floor
and you start to wonder how you're ever going to eat there again
But everyone around you is watching in awe
and saying "let me try".
But little do they know the bloodshed is staining those tiles now
and you're having trouble getting back up....
You left a bloodstain on your new t-shirt
and it kind of represents your blatant disregard
and my foolish naivety thinking things would turn out different.
"Maybe this time, I can help"
but as my face hit the floor and my memory left me
I woke up in a cold sweat, shaky and hazy
and I realized this time was different-
I was shaken up for three days after that
not knowing which house was mine to own
not knowing which words I always chose-
my mind blank on a page for the first time
in weeks, and months and days
you subconsciously shook me
paralyzed with fear, I was crushed by the weight.
So I come to the page that has been my pistol
and put that to my chest once again
but everyone thinks this is just a trend
just something we all do for pretend or therapy-
not me, this is somewhere between mourning and the purgatory.
So take it away, I never had it anyway.

I can't stop picturing
what my life would look like
if in fact it turned out the way I wanted it to.
My self-conscious subconscious would love you better
and I would take back every ******* excuse
I left you with.
I want nothing but happiness-
and that can't happen without you
the gaps in between my fingers become cold again
and your eyes are the only warmth I've felt in a long time,
so fill the dark void I spent my days trying to pinpoint
and draw the line where I can reach you
because you're the only thing I'll ever hold dear to.
It may be drastic to say-
but I don't want to live a life without you
so carry me under your skin
and make a sonnet out of my smile
you're the only one who ever sees it anyway.
You are found in every crease upon my smiling face
my body feels you in every crevice
and even when the evening touches my hips
and curls under my bedsheets-
only to kiss my lips asleep
that's where I want you to be,
curled up in the places next to me.
When the darkness overwhelms my eye sockets
and the depth of depression crushes my nerves
and I can no longer stand the sight of you not there
that is where you will find me.
So run to me when everything is crumbling,
I will be your safety net.
When your heart gets broken again
from the smiles you attempt to mend-
I will be your super glue.
Always and forever,
can't be forever without you.

Remember who you were before they broke you.
As you are picking shards of them out of your skin
not able to see your reflection clearly in the broken glass-
remember yourself.
You are not the pieces they left you with
broken and bleeding for each piece of your broken heart-
You are strong
you will not give them the last pieces you have left
because you are holding out for someone special.
The edges of your fingers are cut from the shards
and you spend your days picking up pieces of yourself
from the bed where they used to lay beside you
and you somehow can't get their smell out of your bedsheets.
Every time you fall asleep the empty space cries for you to fill it
but time and time again you drown it out with tears.
You've spent your days crying oceans for someone
who wouldn't shed a raindrop for you
and the puddle you've made at the edge of your feet
is no longer shallow-
it's still more like a kiddy pool and it's deeper than it once was
and you tell yourself to wake up, stop crying and get a ******* mop!
You keep trying to tell yourself the ends of your fingers
no longer need bandaids
your nose no longer needs shirt sleeves
and those eyes of yours are finally starting to see clearly now
but you see one more shard laying in the puddle you just mopped up
you look and wonder how the ******* got here
how the wreckage in your bones feels more like home
than you ever did with someone else
and you ******* rebuild.
That shard of glass is now your lighthouse
you look down at it and laugh as you pick it up
bandage free fingers you cling to that brokenness
and you look into that glass and finally see yourself for the first time.
You were always a soldier, picking out the broken parts of yourself-
putting them into something else, someone else until you felt whole
but you didn't realize
you were drafted into a war you didn't sign up for-
until it was actually over and you were left with the affects.
But now you have more strength than you did before
and these bones are no longer wreckage, no longer weak.
They are built from muscle memory by tragedy and heartbreak.
So pump the brakes.
Don't be afraid to slow down once in a while
and know that not everything will turn into a wreck-
your world may turn upside down for a while
but that never means you can't learn to enjoy living that way.
So rebuild.

I looked at myself in the mirror today
long and hard, I stared at my reflection in the glass-
and I realized if just enough sun hit where my eyes met
then I wouldn't see myself at all-
but I realized that wouldn't be any different
because the person staring back at me,
wasn't me at all.
I started to question when I forget myself,
lost who I was even though I was trying my hardest to look-
I guess I was never really good at hide and seek.  
Then one day I stopped in my tracks
and watched you pick apart
who I was in your eyes-
I had realized where I lost myself.
You told me I was bringing you down
held onto your leg like an anchor
I was your reason for drowning.
But I'd like to think I just kept you grounded.
See the smiles on my face keep getting replaced
by the opinions you paint across my eyes
and I realize this makeup isn't actually water proof
so you take this tragedy
and turn it into your own
destructive masterpiece upon my cheeks.
It was then I realized-
you were the one tying the anchor to your own ankle
and I was the one trying to help keep you afloat
but in all my efforts to keep you from drowning
it only brought us both closer to the bottom.
You look down on me because I am sinking,
I took the weight from your own ankle
and sunk to the bottom like I always had-
you reached out your hand to find me and got lost in the tide.
The whites of your eyes turn red,
and you blame me for your exhaustion
but you were the one who set sail
on this sea of expectations
and watched as I dangled upon a string I was born with
only to watch me fall from the grips of it
only to be torn between who I am and the nature of the sea.
I am no longer happy,
nor are you.
But time and time again, regret painted on your face
you tend to blame me for the weight-
when it was your idea to come out to sea in the first place.

Some days, I'm a hopeless romantic-
wishing someone would look at me with stars in their eyes
write me the universe in verses
and braid stardust flowers through my hair.
Other days, I'm a realist-
knowing such things only happen in my mind and in movies
and nice words are all I'll ever be accustomed to.
I guess the butterflies in my stomach have died
because I don't really feel them anymore-
I guess the light they kept running into
burned out..

I spend so much time telling myself not to break
I forget to acknowledge the fact-
I'm already ******* broken.
The pieces of me are spread out
amongst the hearts I've ripped to pieces
not realizing because the bottle
masked any emotion I thought I had.
It ***** listening to the stories of her
how highly you think of someone
who tore apart your heart-
I guess just like I did
and maybe that's why I hate her
maybe because I actually hate what I did to you...
But still hearing her ******* name makes me cringe
because you were the first person I actually opened up to
and **** I ******* cared for you.
If you think for a second that I didn't
then good, that's exactly what I wanted back then.
But now, I wish I could've let you know
it was never you-
the reason that I ran
It was insecurity and low self worth
that sent me running far from what I wanted all along.

I gave love a chance again,
because I didn't wanna **** up
the way I so royally did with you.
I know you never loved me
not like you thought you did at least
and you never fell for me exactly
just the mere idea of who you thought I was.
But I am damaged-
and I would have destroyed you
every single thing you gave,
because that's what I did then.

But because of you
I found great love
and opened up in ways
I never thought I would.
I learned to love myself
after I lost you.
My days are spent loving someone
in a way I never thought was even possible.
I never want this feeling to end,
and god I hope you get what you deserve.
You deserve so much.
Find it, and never let it go-
I know **** well I won't make that mistake again
I will love until I can no longer take it anymore-
It's an addiction, and ironically a cure.