It is Christmas night
And I am drunk
And I can't see straight
And my handwriting is ****
But my heart is still good.

My heart is filled with your name
And the thought of our last kiss
And how everyone saw us
And I can't seem to get a grasp
On reality because the only thing
I want to hold is your hand.

Too bad the only thing holding
My hand is this
Wine bottle.


{m.j.}

sometimes when we see things,
it brings back memories that involve
drunken phone calls
early into the morning,
and sobbing at the rain
as it rolls down your window creating streaks of silver.

at one point i hated writing because
everything that came out was about you
and it made me angry because i already
had you in my head,
so why be on my paper?

i looked up at the Christmas tree
you helped me decorate last week
before you left me alone under the mistletoe
and my eyes burned as the hurricane
started to evolve in my eye,
and all the lights became blurry circles
in my living room.

i know we will never be "us" again
but don't you dare tell me that you never
loved me because that is not what your texts and letters told me.
you said you would never leave but here
i am and there you are
and we are not together on this special night.

if i knew where you were on the map,
i would fold it end over end
until we are two souls
in the same place
at the same time.  *


{m.j.}

You can't tell me I made you happy. Because after every fight you end up hurting and that is not happiness. Happiness is not smiling at a text and thinking of that person all day long. It is not writing letters and poems and dedicating songs about them. That just plays a part in happiness. Happiness, my love, is actually being with them. It's seeing them with a light in your eyes that you've never had before. It's laughing when they say a stupid joke, and crying when they are in pain. It's smiling when they say your name and it's when you're laying in your bed at night staring at the ceiling with the widest grin painted across your face. It's knowing they'll answer you back when you text them right away. It's when you can feel your heart literally beating a thousand miles a minute when they call you. Happiness is when you are at peace with yourself and when you can tell yourself that you deserve them. It's when you know they love you because they show it through little things. Like telling you to wear your seatbelt, or telling you not to forget to have a great day in school. Happiness is when you can always count on them to tell you the truth, no matter how bad it is. Happiness is when you can emotionally, spiritually, mentally, and physically feel yourself falling in love with them. **

{m.j.}

have enough self respect to
walk away from something that
makes you feel uncomfortable
and love yourself enough to
say "i deserve to be happy"
because if you aren't happy then
what are you doing with your life?
it's yours,
not his.
so stop writing about how he left you
and start writing about what you
are going to do with your life.

{m.j.}

Last night
I fell asleep
imagining my arms
wrapped around you,
thinking of how sweet
your sleepy kisses
would taste.
Last night
was the first night
in over three weeks
that I slept soundly.

I had my chance and I missed it.
Threw it away because of one friends ****** opinion
Don't get me wrong I was mad for a while,
You, with your body next to a girl that isn't me
Sleeping innocently, I don't think you could hurt me like she said you did.
You were my sunrise man, my sunset, and everything in between.
You were every shade of black and white
And I threw that away because I questioned my trust in you.
Why?? Why did I do that?
Because now you are next to a girl who isn't me
And you love her
And she loves you
And I miss you
But I'll never tell.
You be happy, I had you and I gave you up. That was my mistake, and your opportunity.
I'm sorry, I miss you, don't come back.

i looked up
and placed
my fingertips to the top
of my bedroom ceiling
and i looked at the fluorescent stars
and moons
and constellations
and planets
stuck to the white paint,
and i ran my fingers over each
one and i thought that this was the
closest i would get to touching heaven.
i have learned that we are more than our scars
and more than we give ourselves credit for.
we are so much more than the galaxies running through our veins
and we are so much more than the sum of our bodies put together
with the lover's sharing our beds at three in the morning
because we shouldn't have to rely on other people for us
to be happy and feel complete.
we don't need other people to tell us we are beautiful because
you were beautiful even before he said you were.
you were more lovely than she said you were before she left you in the dust.
you don't need someone to tell you the things that are already true
and if you can't see that you are hauntingly fantastic then you need
to get a better nirror
look a little closer
because there is something in you that is keeping you alive even
when you want nothing more than to be dead.
you need to look closer at yourself and place your hands
on your face;
feel the skin that keeps you together even when you want to tear it open;
look at the arms that have scars engraved on the surface but also
are capable of holding other people up when they are upset.
look at those arms- your arms;
look at the way they sway and the way they hold people together when they
are falling apart at the seams.
look at your legs;
look at how they hold you up each morning,
look at how they chase the moon
and the way they continue to let you get to the places you need to be.
look at your hands;
look at how they curve and how they fold into each other.
look at how they hold people's hands and look at how they grasp the strands of
your hair as you messily finger-brush the knots out of your bedhead.
look at your eyes;
look at those **** eyes and notice how the color captures the world,
look at how much they have seen,
how much they have yet to see.
look at the beauty in you, little one.
look- just look at how far you have come.
look at your progress-
you may not feel like you have gotten any better but yes you have;
it is another day you are alive and i could not be any more
proud of you than i am right now.

you are not a temple;
you are a ******* forest.
people may have chopped you down and you may have
imprints on your surface,
but you are enchanting.
you are not monochromatic,
you are flourishing with colors of the rainbow
and you change each day.
you are unknown,
yet so many wish to venture into your soul,
but you close up at the chance of something new.
my love,
you must open your eyes if you wish to start over.
i know you see the pieces of yourself missing
but look at how the light will fill up the cracks if you just let it in.
your soul will not disappear if you simply let the light in.
open your eyes and let the colors fill your black and white world.
you are a forest,
and you are the most beautiful forest i have ever
endeavored.
people will not love you more
if there is less of
you.*

//

{m.j}