they told me to explain love
despite it being such an abstract feeling
filled with colors and shapes and passion
they told me to explain love
despite how complicated and intrinsic
yet simple and plain it is
they told me to explain love
even though there have been a million before me
dedicating books and songs and poems
to this emotion that plagues us

love isn't Hollywood easy
love isn't that warm burst of heat you feel in your chest,
the need for affection and ***
love isn't a miracle-magical cure
that will rid you of all your problems
love isn't a dream come true or the best thing that ever happens
finding love isn't the endgame

love is dedication,
that heat will fade from your chest over time,
and you will still have issues in life
love will come in the form of someone
who will become your best friend,
most trusted confident that might not always understand you
but will be there for you and work it out alongside you
love will be tough
there will be arguments and bumpy roads
clashing of viewpoints between people
it's natural to fight, but you must work it out
love isn't only you,
it's a balance between both people
learning about each other
and adapting to them
as they adapt to you
love won't always be the aesthetic dream
teenagers long for in their books and movies
no YA novel will show the harsh realities of what love looks like
no Hollywood movie will break through the fantasy-fake awkward kisses
to find love, you must know what to expect
find your match, but don't have unrealistic expectations
it won't always be bubblegum and cotton candy
but it will be beautiful.

its 4am and my
overly active imagination has caused my body to **** out of sleep once more
picturing scenes too vivid to be true

i see his face in my nightmares,
****** fingers stretching his skin like putty
molding it into another's
crimson dying pale white

i feel his hands,
gently pulling me apart
my skin bursts into two and my organs spill out of my stomach
gruesome and brutally nauseating

i hear screams,
piercing through the dark night
hollow eye sockets black and empty,
tortured girls with knives

i taste poison,
running down my throat
an aphrodisiac that made my body long for death
dehydrated, i thirst for more

i smell carnage,
carrion wafting through the air
as i stand in lie on a hospital bed
illuminated by a single light
dead bodies surrounding my still figure

i soon follow


i **** awake,
it's only a dream
but i can see the blood on my hands
smell the scent of rot
my throat burns,
and my stomach has scars
my ears ring with screams
and it doesn't feel like
"just a dream"

my
head is aching
my
throat is raw
my
eyes are listless
my
mouth is shut
my
heart is empty

is that enough to please you?

screams scraping their way
out of my abused throat
terrified; raw and primal
pale lines clawed across my cheeks
nails jagged and bitten down
hangnails pulled to reveal
red, vulnerable flesh
coughs wracking my sick form
head thrashing, gasping pants heaving slim chest
up and down, up and down

an image taunts my vision
a picture of two serene people,
so totally in love you can feel it from the photograph
clammy hands desperately reach for it
reach for you, the imaginary version
the one where my arms wont grab at air when reaching for a hug
where my hands wont curl into fists
at seeing you love everyone but me
where broken sobs dont echo through the empty bathroom
and bile doesnt get flushed down the toilet
where i am not so isgusting
where you do not despise me

you're not mine to keep
nor the one to blame
but still,
this love is driving me ******* insane.

he is the manifestation of spontaneous elegance
****** features changing fluidly; reassuringly
actions are performed unhesitatingly
his positive optimism is punctuated by
an ever-cheery smile, forming his eyes into crescents
kind and benevolent,
he seems to bless a room with a simple entrance
so when he desperately avoids my gaze,
i wish i had done something different
a beautiful songbird like him
hadn't deserved to be kept in a cage with me
i'm glad he's been set free
yet i selfishly seek him out
longing for the trills of the sweet song
that is my former lover.

twisted hearts
malnourished and desperate for love
find solace in each other
reaching out with longing
not for each other,
but for a semblance of affection
sick in their selfishness
quietly resenting themselves for their hunger
satisfy physical needs
build an illusion of emotions
convince themselves that their illusion is real
live this life of pretend
until you believe it is reality.

there's no optimism in life
raised expectations will only lead to fallen outcomes
life isn't a rollercoaster
life doesn't take you on a joyride
moving up and down through the good and bad
life is existentialism
adapting to gradually harder stages
barely making it through
suffering along the way
do what you enjoy and the industry destroys your ambition
at one point you realize you gave up on your dreams
think back on this poem
the world's most pessimistic poet.