Fun facts:
Disclaimer: these might not be fun or a fact but hey, who cares?

-I'm 15.5 years old.
-I have never been in love with a boy my age.
-That last one sounds bad.
-I've fallen in love with my 4 year old cousin.
-I really really like a boy.
-He has red hair and pale skin.
-He plays rugby.
-He likes me back.
-He is my best friend.
-I'm afraid to love him.

**end feels list.

I've worked so hard to get where I am
right now.

But then someone says your name,
or I smell something that reminds me
of you.

And suddenly,
boom.

I have to start over.

Have you ever looked back on your life,
And thought
'I'm really proud of this,"
Or maybe
"I wish I wouldn't have done that..."
Because that's what I feel
Every second.

With every sideways glance,
I think I did something stupid,
Or something to mock,
Or something to put down.
I wish I could feel like a
Plastic bag,
Then maybe,
I just might feel
As if this life I lived
Was worth more than
The scars that lace my legs.

I'm sick.
No, not meaning 'dope', or 'awesome'.
Like, 'hey! Let's shoot Mariah in the face cause this
Sinus infection is killing her!'
My only friends right now?
My dog.
Maury.
Chapstick.
and
Jell-O.

Do you know that feeling?
When you just can't wait to get home?
When everything seems to be
crashing all around you?
And anything can just
set you off?
When anything and
everything you do
is wrong?
And it seems like the
whole world is against
you?
When you drop your pencil,
and you could just
break down?
You're fighting for
happiness.
And it seems like you're losing.
But just remember,
God gives his
hardest battles
to his
strongest soldiers.

Stress
is ripping
me
*apart.

im crying and i need someone

*please help me

If I could tell you anything,
I would tell you
I love you more than
Anything in the world
And
I will forever
*Be your girl.

You love him.
The outcast.
He's different.
But so are you.

*Is it love?

Today, I am thankful.
For the birds.
And the weather.
And the rolling hills in my backyard.
And the huge trees that make me feel
so small.
And my feet and legs.
And my lungs taking in huge breaths.
And my heart pounding as my feet hit the ground
with every step.
And days like today,
Because even though I had the worst day,
I can come home and just
be me.

Sometimes I like to watch movies.
Or make a huge sundae and just
eat all of it.
Or sometimes I just stay in bed
all
day
long.

Just sometimes,
I like to be me.

I love writing poems.
I really, truly, honestly,
do.
But, Mrs. Henry,
I can't rhyme.
I was born without
that special part
of me.
I can write.
And you know I can.
I just can't
do it
for
you.

Stop* telling me my music isn't worth it anymore.
I am in a top honor band and working towards more.
You* never encourage me for anything.
Music was there when you weren't.

When will you realize?

*Music is my future.

For once in my life, I am trying to be concerned with my family.
Especially my older brother.
He does nothing with his life.
He is getting into drugs.
He is everything I aspire not to be.

Yet here I am. Trying to help.
Why?
I only get screamed at by my father.
Or quietly shushed by my mother.
Or yelled at by him.

"****. OFF.
YOU ARE NOTHING TO ME.
I HOPE YOU DIE."

I hope you die.

That's pretty strong stuff aimed at me.

A suicidal child.

Do you remember?
In Karly's front room,
Waiting for your ride.
You had been dying
To kiss me
For weeks.
You held my hands.
You looked into my eyes.
I saw yours.
Your **** brown eyes.
They are so beautiful.
Our noses touched.
I felt butterflies.
Then boom.
fireworks.
Did you see those beautiful fireworks?
I could feel your heart beat.
boom.
ba boom.
Thudding.
Thundering.
You were so nervous.
But no where near
as nervous
as me.

I hate it when people tell me
I'm not productive.
I am.
You don't understand.
'Boyfriends will hold you back.'
'Why aren't you taking harder courses?'
'Quit band. It's a waste of time.'
'Stop doodling. Art will get you nowhere.'

*Being happy is productive too.

How do you fall in love in the first place?
How do you ignore their smile?
How do you stop feelings from flooding in,
If only for a while?

How do you miss them like your mother?
How do you kiss them like your first?
How do you hate them like a brother,
But love them at their worst?

How do you hold their hand?
How do you stop your palms from slipping?
How do you look cool and collected,
When inside your heart is tripping?

How do you say you want to be with them?
How do you make it feel normal?
How do you say "I REALLY LIKE YOU,"
Without it feeling informal?

How do you kiss them for the first time?
How do you make it feel right?
How do you make it feel special,
Even if it is a peck goodnight?

How do you play them a love song
And say "It reminds me of you,"
When what you want to say is
"I wish for once you could take a clue..."?

How do you look at them the same?
How do you watch them smile so small,
After you glance their way,
And not automatically fall?

How do you say "I love you,"
And truly hear it's words?
How do you not get butterflies,
When I feel massive birds?

How do you not love their eyes?
How do you not love their laugh?
How do you not miss them,
When they turn their back?

How do you not want to give them the world?
How do you not stop just to stare?
How do you say "I love you,"
When he's just combing his hair?

How do you fall so hard,
And he's just lightly floating?
How do you stop yourself
From constantly doting?

How do you tell your parents you're in love?
How do you tell them it's true?
How do you make it seem as real to them,
As it is to you?


How do you tell yourself to stop?
How do you tell yourself "I'm too young,"?
How do you realize this can't be real?
How do you stop your heart from being hung?

How do you tell someone you don't love them?
How do you say it through a text?
How do you break their heart,
Then say it's for the best?

How do you look at them the next day?
How do you stop your glance?
How do you stop yourself from crying,
And begging for another chance?

How do you delete their number,
Let alone their text's?
How do you try to forget what happened,
And try to look forward to what's next?

How do you keep holding on,
Even after they let go?
How do you still grip so tight,
After their parting blow?

How do you move on?
How do you just say no?
How do you find another,
Who has the same beautiful glow?

How do you look back and realize how much it changed you?
How do you look at them without love?
How do you remember everything,
And realize he was nothing you dreamed of?

How did I fall in love,
When in the long run,
He was just a boy,
And not the one?

When I was young,
I loved going out shopping.
It made me feel like the world
Was taking me in as one of their own.
And for some odd reason,
It made me really happy.
It was almost as if
I was on the Island of Misfit Toys,
And as soon as I disappeared
Into this sea of mindless strangers,
I finally felt accepted.

Take me to the ocean.
I need to be near the sea.
I need to feel the breeze.
I need to hear the waves.
I need the salty spray in my hair.
I need the smooth waters.

The sea cleanses my soul.
And I need my soul cleansed.

Tu me manques.

English- I miss you.
True English translation- You are missing from me.

Isn't that beautiful?
You are missing from me.
It's like a piece of me is gone.
You took it with you
when you left me.

Almost like a puzzle.
You are missing from me.*
"Here- I will give you a small fraction of me,
take it with you.
Never let it wander,
but since you feel the need to,
take this piece of me."

There is a child at my school.
He is 15, just like me.
And he writes poetry.

Not ranting poetry.
Not rhyming poetry.
But the kind of poems that make you sit down,
And think about life.

In this world, there is so little love.
Knowing this physically pains me.

Love isn't always telling someone
"I love you."
It's holding open the door for the old man.
It's feeding the stray in your neighborhood.
Love doesn't take much.

What we all want is the love we see.
The old couple who always finds their way
To the park bench.
The teenage couple,
Holding hands, teasing, and looking at
Eachother like it's the first time.

This world is full of so much hate.
All I'm asking is for you to find the love
in you and make a difference.

This child,
Is changing
**the world.

They say
Where your mind goes
when it wonders
is where
your heart
truly lies.
My mind
wonders to
music,
Europe,
and you.

I wanted to come up
with a way to show
how much I love you.
Like how other poets
can come up with the
words to say it
so much prettier.
Or how the French
can make it sound
so effortless.
But the only thing
I could think of
was the way you
light up
when you hear
that music.

& there are no words for that.

Here I am.
Crying my eyes out.

you don't care.


Sorry I bored you with my love.

Why did you do it?
Do you feel better?
Does hurting me make you happy?
Does knowing I'm crying satisfy you?
Do you hate me?
Come home.
Please.