And then you changed
With each passing day I saw you in
A different light.
But I didn't mind
Because I knew I was just starting
To see you clearly.

I was beautiful until the day you told me I was.
The day I believed you and the look in your eyes told me I wasn't.
I was "beautiful" as I undressed myself for your pleasure.
I was "beautiful" when things went your way.
I wasn't beautiful when others would look my way.
I thought I was beautiful up until that day.
I felt beautiful as our flesh became one.
A connection of the soul to me was just your way of having fun.
I thought I was beautiful up until the day you broke my trust.
The day you broke me.
Painted faces couldn't fix the broken girl.
Looking in the mirror and all I could see were bagged eyes and the memory of the girl I used to be.
A broken girl tired of all his lies.
A "beautiful" girl who stayed up all night and cried.
A selfish man who continuously  lied.
Killing the girl he "loved" on the inside.
I used to think I wasn't beautiful
Until the day I left your side.

Cranes accuse the sky
As people swarm like ***** in
A ******* jungle

The meaning of leaves in
a refreshing cool wind
He chose to live
for friendship
Not for that
other thing

The shower is her therapist -spilling tears all over her body, the way her heart aches to, but her eyes lack to in capacity. She combs her dark hair while she hums an old My Chemical Romance song,

When you go, don't ever think I'll make you try to stay

Gusts of wind come in through the window to remind the foggy glass that it will soon dissipate -that there is a world beyond the dewy structure. She massages the shampoo in her hair with enough strength to try to cleanse away the dirt, and thoughts.

in the morning I'll be off to find another way

She steps out of the shower and wipes off the fog of the double mirror above the sink and stares for a moment and proceeds to grab her tooth brush. Simply brushing her teeth.

The hurt isn't enough anymore to think of it as a metaphor, or anything other than what it is -it's not erasing the taste of him out of her mouth, it's not cleansing away the remains of broken innocence she gave him. That's all over now -he doesn't own that part of her anymore.

a good for nothing, I don't know.

Her face she washes with "Let The Good Times Roll," a face-wash that supposedly smells like caramelized popcorn -she hates popcorn, but she loves the smell of the Lush product; of course, she refuses that it smells anywhere similar to the corn-popped snack.

She throws on a maroon lace bralette and matching skivvies, and slips into an oversized Hanes white t-shirt that she probably purchased at the supermarket as a pack of five, and basks in the feeling of purity and freedom. She looks into the old-fashioned mirror that sits upon her dresser and puts on her retail store bought diamond earrings and $7 Walmart tree necklace and tries to give herself a smile. She's always been one with nature but like an autumn leaf, she drifted wherever the wind, or rather, he would take her. But he's gone now, and the necklace reminds her that she was always rooted -she just expanded her branches a little too far.

I don't love you like I did yesterday.

She takes a seat at her laptop that she worked hard to earn every penny for, and decides she's going to write about this girl she knows, this girl she is falling in love with again. Because even if nobody else does, she see's the beauty in herself -and she deserves to be written down.

And thats the origin of this poem.
NJ2016 [All Rights Reserved]

And you taught me not to give my heart away.

You taught me not to trust strong arms and tall bodies.
You taught me that strong arms can wrap around my neck, just as easily as they can wrap around my waist.
You taught me that tall bodies are good to hold, but can hold you back, just as forcefully as they can hold you down.
I learned that you can't trust strong arms and tall bodies.
I learned that you shouldn't fall for sweet words and the perfect smile

And I learned not to give my heart to fallen angels because they'll put it through hell.

How do you perceive the world
A world as dark and happy,
Suppressive and full of opportunity,
As another headache or painkiller,
Or as much of a heartbreak
Or heart-filler?

Where does one draw the line
In the figurative dirt of
Trust or mistrust,
Of isolation and lust?

How have you been conditioned to view this world?
Through two windows to a compact machine
Cogs and gears turning, calculating...
What am I seeing?

Tricky Trump
Trying to trump
Other players
In the game