I miss your beautiful blue eyes
Your sweet addictive kiss
The pain and sadness of loving your broken soul
Is one part of you I will never miss

Maybe,
        
           I could be an athlete
           I'd win the marathon with
           Running away
                     - from all of my problems.

Sometimes I try my best to avoid sleeping in my room.
I think it’s because I’m afraid that if I sleep in my bed, I’ll never want to get up.
And then I’ll slowly **** myself.
In a heap of my own depression and self comfort.
So I sleep on the couch.
Because it’s just not as comfortable.
So then I won’t want to die as fast.

This is for you:

-the girl who is so ashamed because of her acne,
-the girl who cries in front of her mirror because she doesn’t
look like Picasso’s muse,
-the girl who forgot how to smile because of her problems,
-the girl who cries her eyes out every night because of him,
-the girl who is so terrified to attach because of her past relationship,
-the girl who is different from the others,
-the girl who wants to save every soul she meets, except hers,
-the girl whose heart, blood and soul runs wild,

-you are so much more than the sprinkles from your skin.
-you're not Picasso’s muse, but you definitely are God’s muse.
-don’t waste your life being so stressed, just enjoy the journey.
-you need to be strong.Cry your heart out, but stop,your tears are too worthy , make them rare, for the real ones.
-try to love yourself first, then someone else.
-your future is not defined by your past.
-you need to save yourself first.
-run with them, darling, and never look back.

This is for you, girls.
You, no matter what, are good enough.
You are lovable.
You are strong.
You are independent.
You are different.
You are rare.
You are you, and that is your power, learn how to use it.

Today I drove past your house,
For a moment I thought I would scream,
For a moment I thought I knocked on your door,
Just like in my dreams.

The road felt like my own veins, winding throughout my body to keep me moving, to keep me alive.
I pull over,
Turn off the engine,
Hands tense around the steering wheel.
Eyes closed, I am taken back to the midnight conversations and coffee orders and that photo of us.
Oh, that photo of us.

Suddenly, I am home.

Sitting in my driveway, the time has passed me like a summer’s love affair: quick and disappointing. My knuckles clench until they glow white.

Nothing can change how I feel,
No highway hypnosis or holistic home remedy can heal this hurt.

Today I drove past your house and

Suddenly, I’m home.

i do this thing where i stay quiet
for too long
sometimes i feel i ruin things
like a garden
i touch that starts to wither away
or an ornate jar
shatters to irreparable pieces
like a wound
that keeps reopening and all
the doors in my
life keep closing, so i leave my feelings
on the low key side of things