You are my favorite shade of everything always.
And I really don't know what that means to you.
Because you cried when you said you loved me, first,
And now you don't even notice me. Or when you do, there is nothing.
I don't know if you hate me. Or if you feel anything at all.
All I know is I miss you every day, even when I don't think I have.
And when I don't let you enter my thoughts, you show up in my dreams.
People say if you can't sleep at night, you're in someone else's dream.
You must be an insomniac. But probably not because of me.
Because I don't count to you in any standard of everyday living, everyday thought.
I don't count and I can't ******* wrap my hands or my head or my heart around that.
Because you are everything and everywhere to me.
And no matter how many boys let me fall for them, only to pull away the rug,
I always, always, always, always, always hurt for you. And for you alone.
I hate every ******* color inside your soul, yet you're still my favorite shade.
I don't know what that means.
I love you. I hate you.
You are everything to me.
And I am nothing to you.
And that ******* hurts.

I know how hard it is to feel without being felt;
what it's like to look out a window and not see the beautiful view;
to only see yourself jumping.
I know what it is like to be the broken chair in disguise
that everyone thinks is just fine to sit on;
to be the broken egg fallen from the tree while all the sparrows fly.
I am the dandelion in the middle of the field of grass, yet I am the only **** picked.
The world is parachuting through clouds while I sky-dive, free-falling,
into the dirt.
Free, free, free to change anything...
But unable to cope with a thing out of place;
able to dream and do whatever you wish...
but unable to do anything.
I love you so much because you are my mirror;
I love you so much to help.
If you stare long enough at your own brilliance,
it will scar like the sun on your eyes,
and you will see its technicolor splotching
everywhere you look.
Know it is okay to cry but know when it is time to get up;
know it is okay to be sad but know when it has been enough.
You think you can't do it, but you do not know,
and I promise I know that you can.
You just need a hand to help you stand up.
And I hope that this poem can be that hand for you.
Or maybe it won't mean ****; I don't know.
But I know you're reading this and you're thinking,
what the hell does she know?
Look forward, not down, and be who you are
and do not give a ****.
The right people will love you because you will love yourself.
Develop your wingspan and refuse to flee;
fly and be free.
And you will soar into the sky and be as beautiful as you always wished.
Just remember to always come back down and give a hand to those on the ground.
And maybe write a poem.

I was born again when I fell in love
And remade into a monster I cannot fight
Now I know the spectrum of human light
I must be punished for seeing the face of God
So I see your face in every person I meet
Know I lost the game because you won with a cheat
Fallen from grace, I’ve fallen into the ocean
Because you were carved of angels wings
And the devil cries because he cannot sing
Look into the mirror and find something to like
Everything I have grown to love is you
And now I see you in myself too
That is where my greatest anguish lies
In my own soul and my own spirit, in my own heart
Because in my essence we are together, but we truly are apart