I've read so much sad poetry that
The skin around my eyes has turned
Blue with betrayal
because I felt so much emotion but
I couldn't even write a word.

The river in my head is a rapid
now, all of this flows in my mind
and I see it flowing faster and faster
in the reflection of the eyes of the teacher
who's face is only inches from mine
as she says,
"Where is the homework thats due today?"
all disappointed head shaking
as the rest of the high school class waits.
Waits
as the ink
beneath my short sleeves,
white collar shirt and skirt
begins to….. burn.
Waits
as my hyperactive ADD branded brain
begins to boil.
Waits as I keep back the bile
and get all choked up on
the prozac and concerta
that have been planted in my throat
But i keep it down and say,
"I forgot it."
Honestly,
I feel bad about this.
I want to tell her I'm sorry.
I'm sorry that after twelve years of learning,
the one thing I haven't picked up on
is how to turn in a freaking homework assignment.
I'm sorry that my head is a broken system
Whose puzzle pieces never learned how to fit themselves together properly
I forgot that it's a crime to not know theorem 6.2 or
what kind of satire Aristophanes used but I think it's
IRONIC that we're supposed to take this work with open arms
and look, I'm being honest when I say I can't remember all the nine muses names but believe me Erato will tell you that I can write one hell of a love poem.
But that doesn’t matter here, no.
because all that mattered was that in third grade
I could never remember my times tables
as if being dipped in the river lethe made you any less of a person
as if the kids who were telling me I was dumb thought I needed confirmation
I’m trying to pull out the lessons we learned at carpet time like
2, 4, 6, 8…?
no one could appreciate that I was trying,
everything would just get swept away
leaving me bone dry and forgotten.

the thing that scares me the most about being in love with you
is that as the more hours for us to be together are ripped from our hands by the hectic schedules we've set ourselves
the more I crave the feeling of your lips against mine and your arms around me.
In the hours that you are unavailable,
I want to hear your voice,
your every thought,
and the pattern of your heartbeat.
You have no idea how much that scares me.
I wish that I could spend hours listening to you talk
In the many hours between our goodbyes
and when my heart finally stops fluttering from the thought of you,
I go over scenarios in my head of me and you together.
I see nights out,
nights in,
fights,
making up,
making out,
and everything in between.
It's during these hours of darkness that my heart wants you so bad
that I find myself gasping for air
and clutching my chest.
You have no idea how much that scares me.
I remember all the times your lips touched mine,
and how warm they were.
I try to count on my fingers how many times you've said
"I love you," but I only have 10 fingers
and I can't hold in just two hands the number of "I love you too's" that I've said back.
There's a word in german
"Sehnsucht"
which is the inconsolable longing for something
or a high degree of intense
reoccurring
often painful
desire for something unknown.
For so long my insides screamed for something
but I could never put my finger on it.
I've discovered the unknown
the key to my longing
the end to the pain
and that,
my love,
is you.

One reason I knew we'd never last is even after a year in juxtaposition, our sentences never began to resemble one another. I could never get lost in the cadence of your vocabulary, because it all sounded  dissonant to me. The way the words "****" and "****" couldn't flow from your lips as easily as they could from mine caused discomfort in the succession of my words. It was if a dam was holding back the waterfall of words and ideas kept in my head, and leakage or splinters in this dam caused an outburst of lividity or tears that couldn't be stopped by words or kisses. When two people are apart, the only thing they have between them is words, so the lack of freedom of speech is the biggest defect.

The first time Love came
I called it
Although Love was my best friend
And Love was just in the friend zone
I knew there was something special
About the way he said hello
It was like a gift
Like every time he said the word
He would make sure it was wrapped perfectly
And would fit snugly around my heart like a hug.
Love had never fallen for anyone before
And neither had I
So Love had no limits to the stories he could tell me
And neither did I.
Love had songs he liked to show me
Lyrics that reminded him of me
The songs he sang while dancing around the room
After a night out.
Love and I had secrets
The things we only whispered in the dark
While we were up till 4 on a Monday morning
Both of us refusing to hang up on the magic.
We had secrets we only shared with our hands
Morse code systems of squeezing and touching that became a dance we both memorized.
Love taught me things about myself I never knew before
He opened my eyes to a world that was no longer mine but ours
He showed me that treating myself right wasn't as hard as I thought it was
And that I was more important than I told people I was
And I could never repay Love for that.  
Love had people he wanted me to meet
Places he wanted me to see
Things he wanted to show me
But we never had quite enough time.
Love came quickly
Stayed for
1 year
A week and 6 days
And 12 hours.  
Love left
In 2 hours
27 minutes
And 16 seconds
Ending
With nothing more
than a mean remark
a few tears
3 beeps and a black screen.

The second time Love came
I didn't want him to
Love was one of my best friends
And was staying in the friend zone.
What I didn't realize
is that Love came exactly when I needed him to
He came with soft hands
A strong chest
A big heart
and enough room in his heart to fix my broken soul.
There was nothing special about the way Love said hello
But the first time he said my name
Like really said it
in the back of a cab with the city lights blurring all around me
a psychedelic splatter paint of the feelings that swelled in my chest
He treated it like an artifact
Like the slightest crack of the voice could destroy it altogether.
Love was broken from people in the past
Love wasn't treated well
Love had stories that he didn't like to tell
Because opening his mouth to me would feel like betrayal
And there were some things he still cherished.
Love had songs that he skipped over or muted
The songs that reminded him of her
The songs that he played while crying in his room
The day she broke his heart.
Love and I had secrets
but he didn't like staying up past 10:30
so we played with them in broad daylight
bravely daring chance and discovery to tear us apart.
Love wrote long messages
telling me the things he liked about me
Love used the three  big words a little too soon
but that was alright
because I spent the hours after he fell asleep reciting them in my head.
Love turned out to be someone I felt the most safe around
like he was the rock in the wild hurricane of my ******* wacked out life
like the roots that kept me tied to the ground
with a gentle hand laced in mine.
Love tells me things that no one ever has
like that he believes in me
and that no one should hate me
he's built me up from the ground and I can never repay him for that.
Love came quickly
out of nowhere
unexpected
but Love should stick around
because I promise to make it last
to make it long
and make it count.

Before reading this I want people to know that I have never been *****.
I got the inspiration for this poem from a post on tumblr.*

One
After the first time he put his hands on her
she never thought she'd be able to escape the grasp of the feeling
she stayed up till 3:41 in the morning in the bathtub
sitting in the scalding water
trying to burn the dirt from her skin.
she sat there until the water turned cold
and she had not one tear left to cry
and until her skin was rubbed raw and bleeding.
she counted the bruises on her body
9 on her stomach
1 on her face
1 on her neck
a yellow and purple necklace around her collar
from the telephone wire he abused
from the telephone she didn't dare use
even after he finished manipulating her.
she scrubbed his fingers from her hair
but decided cutting it off would be easier
she washed his yelling voice from her ears
but found that screaming made him quieter
she scraped his taste from her lips
a dry martini
a cigarette
and someones tears from the past.
she couldn't scrub her wrists hard enough
to erase the feeling of the ropes he had her anchored with
so instead she sliced the flesh of where the imprint lay
attempting to release the strain from the burn marks on her skin.

Two
That same morning when she almost bled out
she checked herself into a hospital.
They sewed up the crimson bracelets she made
trapping inside of her wrists
each scream he muffled
with every new stitch.
she guessed they figured out what happened
whether it was the bruises
or the way her speech sounded like morse code but
they told her the police were informed
and that they'd do everything in their power to find monster
who opened the door to her own personal hell.
When the sketch artist asked her to describe him
she told her he was a photocopy
the regular John Doe
medium hight
brown hair brown eyes
nothing special or unique that would make a girl cross to the other side of the street
just like she said she should have done.
When they told her she needed to be inspected
she didn't even flinch
that seemed to be the only thing that people did these days
was inspect one another for an outcome that they'll be paid for
in paychecks or pleasure.
They stripped her down
apologizing for the cold
they took pictures
apologizing for the flash
they held her hand
apologizing for the feeling
but why apologize if he already imprinted it on her body
there's no going back from this
she will never be able to look at a man the same way again
she will always see cold hard hands on her shoulders
even at the warmest touch
she will only see flashes of his lips forced onto hers
when she receives the smallest peck
she will never be able to feel anything but a mattress beneath her back
rope around her wrists
and a freezing cold emptiness inside of her stomach.

Three
After the second time he put his hands on her
she stayed up all night in the freezing cold water
not even trying to remove his mark from her.
she figured that if the dirt beneath his fingernails were still there the second time
the dirt would still be on her too.
she let the filth engulf her
telling herself that all she was was dirt anyway
and as she lay with her head underwater
she screamed as loud as she could
for as long as she could
until her face was red
her voice was scratchy
till the veins in her neck pulsed
and when she finally sat up she was deafened by a deep silence
with no more sound than rippling water and the ticking of the clock.
That's when she realized that no matter how loud she screamed
she would never be heard amongst other peoples silences.
silences full of beeping cars and TV commercials
buzzing air conditioners and clinking plates
quite whispers and loud laughs
full of family and friends and the whole world spinning around them.
she would never matter to anyone
no brakes would squeal at the sound of her desperation
no ears would turn to decipher the morse code she mustered shakily from her lips
no one would ever care that her screams for help were muffled
and no one would have a hole in their stomach if she disappeared.
at this thought
she slipped deeper into the tub
unwraps the bandages from around both her wrists
uncovering scars that would never heal.
She explored the wounds with her fingers
and saw how weak the stitching was
like the nurse who repaired her found it pointless
and attempted it half heartedly.
She discovered that pulling the dark material that was woven through her flesh
would release her blood
like opening a door to another universe.
the purple would quickly turn to red
drop slowly into the tub
creating a water color painting of the war inside her head.
She pinched the strings holding the two parts of her together
******* their rough surface
she began to feel tired
dreaming of a happier place
of a happier her
of feeling like a person again.
she pinched the string
and pulled.
hard.

The moment he rejected you the first time
I saw a little part of you break
like the icicles in your eyes were melted with a self destructive hate fire
burning dangerously with the unrequited desire
for his love.
I want to tell you you're perfect.
On the times he moved closer to you at the lunch table
I saw the way your body stiffened
I could see the mental checklist being ticked
making sure you had the grocery list of the things that you wanted
the things you thought he needed.
I want to tell you you're perfect.
He fluttered your heart with his smile
making you realize that this spell he put you under isn't temporary
no matter how many times he knocks you down
you'll always go back for more.
I want to tell you you don't need him.
Where other girls want to undress him with their eyes
to see the chiseled swimmers body armor created from
years of waking up before sunlight
all you want is to strip the armor from his skin
to see if what lies underneath the charm
is really as soft and sweet as it is in your dreams.
I want to tell you he doesn't matter.
The day he asked out another girl in front of you
you tell me you need a friend
you say you don't even know how to stop crying
you say it hurt so bad
choking back tears is causing you to choke out that it's killing you
and it just kills me when you say that you feel so pointless
but you're infinitely perfect to me
so I make sure that you know how pointless he is too
and that if he can't even see through his glasses to realize how beautiful you are
then he might as well be as blind as a bat.
I want to tell you you're perfect.
even though you say your importance can be rationed out in teaspoons
I tell you that no amount of measuring cups could ever measure how much you mean to me
I want to tell you that your shine is like the one light in powerless city
gifting those in the dark with the wonders of your intelligence
and with the beauty of the way in which you look at the world
I want you to know that you're perfect.
I want to tell you I'm sorry.
I'm sorry for not noticing all the times that your lip was white beneath your teeth
or the way your eyes stung from the acidity of rejection
causing tears to form around the red insides of your eyelids
I'm sorry I wasn't there to wipe those tears off your face like I always promised I'd be.
I'm sorry for the time that you had to ask for me to listen
because the invisible rules written by love
in the book of friendship in my mind
say that you shouldn't have to ask for me to uncover my ears
they should always be open
and so should my arms
because that's what friends are for.
I want  to tell you you're perfect.
I want to tell you I'm sorry.
I want you to know that putting layers of make up on your face
makes him fall in love with a copy of every unoriginal
girl he's ever dated but you
my friend
you are not a copy
you are not unoriginal
you are a story
you are amazing
and you should never let your self feel like any less.

I thought I'd never stop missing you.
I thought the echo of your voice would never stop in my head
That the words I love you
And Angel
Would forever ring in my ears.
I thought I'd never get over the way your hands felt on me
the trailing of your fingers on my lips
their dance around my collarbone
and the way they dragged over my rib cage
leaving a trail every inch of the way.
I was sure that I'd never forget the constellation of freckles along your back
and the one behind your left ear
how beautiful they were
how they never bothered me
and how I loved them even though you didn't.
I knew I'd never forget the color of your eyes
so chocolatey brown
with a hint of green
and a splash of orange.
I thought I'd never stop missing you.
But the echo of your voice has since turned into a whisper
I've found myself unable remember what your laugh sounds like
and I find it annoying when I hear someone call their girl Angel.
I've slowly gotten over the way your hands felt on me
and I've come to realize
how rough the skin on your fingers was
and how the trails you've left are just scars I want to cover up.
I'm not sure where your freckles are
I think there is one behind your right ear
and on your stomach
and maybe a few on your shoulder
but I always found them messy and annoying.
I don't know what color your eyes are
you have blonde hair so I'm guessing blue?
I guess I've just stopped missing you.

She liked his lips
but the way the word beautiful
and her name
sounded coming out of them was what made her fall in love.

She liked his height
but the way her head sat against his chest when they hugged was what made her fall in love.

She liked his hands in hers
but the way he opened and closed his fingers around hers was what made her fall in love.

She liked how smart he was
but the way he always knew what to say was what made her fall in love

She liked how he acted interested in the things she loved
but the way he really proved it to her was what made her fall in love.

she liked how he complimented her
but the way he made her feel like more than just any girl was what made her fall in love.

She liked how safe she felt around him
but the way he stood up for her and told her she was right was what made her fall in love.

She liked how brave he was
but the way he would have asked her parents if he could date her was what made her fall in love.

She knew it wasn't right to love him yet
but that was what made her fall in love.

You taught me what this feels like
and then how it feels to lose it
You showed me who I wanted
and then who I wasn't.
You ticked every box
and drew a line.
You weren't mine to begin with
and then not to end with.
You looked like everything I wanted
and then became something I hated.
You get thought of almost every day
and at that
not in a good way.
You let me leave
and I'm happy you did.
Then you almost killed me
but I didn't die.
You broke my heart into pieces
but I put them back together.
And now it's a shield
it keeps the bad feelings out.
You threw my trust in the dirt
stomped on it and spit.
I picked it up off the ground
washed it's scars and
hung it to dry.
And it's still scarred forever.
And so am I.
And it's still hard.
But I didn't die.

Seventh grade came in bad Polaroid shots
Ticket stubs
And stupid sayings.
It came with destroyed friendships
Mean girls
And eating alone in the bathroom.
It came with one sided love
Longing for his affection
And a broken heart.
It came bursting in with self hatred
Broken self esteem
And sliced skin around both wrists.
It was infected with hospital visits
Two week stays
And an I.V. drip in my left arm.
It cracked with poetry
Notebook pages covered in tears
And sad music to make it worse.
It slowed with a new friend
A place to belong
And unsure feelings.
It grew with Jesus
Christian camp
And a few adults I called my  personal saviors.
It healed with a best friend
Phone calls
And seven boys I loved dearly.
It left with self confidence
Band aids  
Plane tickets
Baseball games
And a whole new love.

He told her how he never felt noticed
So she made it her job to always notice everything about him.
He told her he likes talking while kissing
So she made up poems in her head
One about excitement
And one about happiness
To whisper to him in the tangle of lips and tounge.
He expressed his envy towards her
How he also wanted to live in the moment
Just as she did
So she made it her duty to plan ahead to make sure
He could feel free.
He told her about heartbreaks
and how bad they hurt him
So she made sure to always have an extra supply of love and scotch tape
So if his heart gets broken he can tape the pieces together
And if that doesn't work
He can have her love
To see if it will heal him.  
He told her about how she made him feel safe
Like she'd always be there for him
So she super glued her hand to his
So he'd always be with her
And always feel safe.

lips like magnets
hands like puzzle pieces
eye contact unshakable  
I lean forward
bite your bottom lip
looking for solace in your kisses,
but you pull away.
I am wrapped around you
my  bare thighs embracing your **** hips
our stomachs pressed together
yours strong against my hills and valleys
our hearts talking to one another
through synchronized heartbeats.
my elbows are perched upon your shoulders
hands tickling your hair as your nose
presses against mine
causing a ripple of shivers down my spine
at the realization of something starting.
once again you pull away
and I push my face towards yours
begging to be kissed.
you touch your lips my cheek
and then my jaw
you connect the dots from the scar under my chin
to the winged curve of my collar bone.
I lean back as you trace my neck
moving down the lines of my muscle
you kiss me across my chest
and with every peck my longing for your lips on mine
becomes stronger.
you return to your starting point
and pull away
leaving me whining and pulling at your hair
asking for that taste
that your lips allow
you sit back against the pillows and look at me
tuck my hair behind my ears
and sit up fast
pulling my face to yours again.
our lips make contacts with full force
mine mold into the long memorized shape of yours
fitting perfectly in the nooks and crannies.
almost instantaneously
our tongues shake hands
and I wrap both my arms around the back of your head
fingers lost in your tangle of hair
I kiss you harder
squeezing tighter
the space between smaller
urging our lips closer
love and passion mixing in the fiery heat between us
and I’m wishing more than anything to never stop.
on we go
with this dance our lips have memorized.
when we finally finish
our lips are chapped
tired from this exercise
I fall back onto your chest
and there I lay
exhausted but
satisfied.

I miss you more than anything
I miss you like M for
M e m o r i e s
like the time we painted the walls of my room lavender and
danced to music that reminded us of
love.
I miss you like I for
I n t e n s e
like how my love for you was so profound
my heart leapt when you sang and
it shattered when you cried.
like how I always wanted you closer
hugging tighter
kissing deeper
my arm wrapped around the back of your neck so I never had
to let you go.
I miss you like S for
S c a r e d
like how I was terrified to watch you walk down the hall
after we ended things the first time.
like how I'm scared of my feelings
scared of wanting you back.
I miss you like S for
S c a r s
Like the identical scars we both have on
our hearts
that remind of how things used to be
and how different they are from now.
like the scars that we healed from that time
when we both bled out
slicing ourselves deep to feel the pain
rush out of our bodies like an exhale.
I miss you like
c o m e
b a c k
t o
m e
"I'm sorry," you say " but I just can't do that."

now he says "I miss you more than anything"
he misses me like   M   for
Makeout
like the way he awkwardly mistakes the sloppiness for passion.
he misses me like   I   for
I like you
like in the way that he feels it
stronger than I ever will.
he misses me like   S   for
Saturdays
because to him, the days without me
go by so slowly.
he misses me like   S   for
songs
like the songs that remind him of me
taking his heart at fifteen
loving everything about me
I'm sorry, but I just don't feel that way.

please take me
capture me with the sound of your voice
mark me with a purple blemish along the curve of my neck and
in return I'll mark you
with a soft hand
and a light giggle
please take me
plant the taste of your tongue in my mouth
and leave a letter to the editor
on the inside of my lip
in the form of bite marks

we  become our cigarettes
filter through them
morphing into transparent  beings like the
smoke that rises from our lips
we inhale the toxins to feel alive
we trip over our own breath
our thoughts become flammable lucid dreams
that lick at the edges of our palpable pain
we burn the filter to filter our thoughts from reality and
we give up the fire from our eyes and our souls to
light the glorified matchsticks that **** us in the end

Ask me what you feel like
And I'll tell you with perfect clarity
Exactly how your hands felt on mine

ask me what you smell like
and the transparency of my words when
I speak of your aroma will be
as sweet as the smell itself

tell me how to laugh
and I'll reach around to the dusty
underside of my glass bottom heart to wipe away the
pain and fear to
feed the neglected feeling of bliss
with the intoxication that your smile allows

beg me to share my secrets
and I'll hand them over word by word in light blue envelopes
the words "love" and "hate" multiplied in the fray
of my private thoughts

ask me to love you
and I'll love you with every fragment of my broken heart
each pigmentation a different shade of
of the word
infatuated

the silence between us was like a fire
warm and crackling
cloaking our bodies.

the energy between us was like the tips of a broken wire
sparkling in the innoxious night amid the
confluence of our lips.

the secrets between us were like butterflies
confessing themselves late
at a time of darkness
eluding our lips in the tangle of words
we didn't willingly express.

but lamentably this ended
the silence broken
slit vertically down both my wrists
cutting off our intravenous connection  
the fire extinguished
the rarity ceased
the energy dulled
the wire released
our lips parted
ending like it never even started.

all the broken pieces
scattered on the floor
a broken heart
a broken trust
that and nothing more
she took a giant hammer
and smashed it as she pleased
ignoring all the hurt
ignoring all the pleads
she picked up all the pieces
not caring that they cut
she tried to throw them out the door
but the door
she saw
was shut
now she'll keep them in her life and she'll be very sad
she'll keep them through the good times
the funny times
and bad
she will go on through her life and she'll do very well
but every time she feels those pieces
her heart will give her hell



this was from 6th grade so it's....6th grade level

There are 24 hours in a day
1440 minutes
and 86440 seconds but I think
that feelings only become real after 11 O'clock
that your outer shell is shed then and
you're left with
a tiny, weak thing that you call
you.
you force yourself to stay awake to read or write about the pain
or the pain forces you to stay awake and read and write
either works but both
hurt so
much and you can't help but think about your
demons
but since it's late at night they're
no longer in your head but
all around you.
Staying up makes you feel the pain
so really insomnia is just
self harm without the blade.

Inhale my exhale
feed my veins with your blood
invade my lungs and
evade my pain but
osculate it's outlines
rub it  
smudge it to make it, no
make me
softer.
softer like elation
smile my smile
and I'll get your dimples
I'll laugh your laugh
and you'll feel my heart
beat in time with yours
you'll warm my bones
and I'll crack your knuckles.
let your arms wrap around my body and
I'll breathe in your smell
let it filter my self-hatred and
replace it with love, flowers
and the sound of your voice.
give me your eyes
so I can see in myself the things that you see
so I can finally know what pulls
you to me and
what keeps you there.
show me your past with my future
and build your future upon my past
tell me stories about your family
and show me the scars you keep hidden away
come to me with secrets bare
and I'll share with you mine that have never once seen the sunlight.