will it get better?
because it'll only get worse or so it seems
will it get better?
because tearing is happening at the seams

hearing the screams
my ears pound and beat to the hellish vibrations
eyes closed as they are in all dreams
but these are nightmares and childhood has dissippated from its stations

i decided to drop in and say hello, expecting that my nervous feelings would soon mellow.

he said hey in return,
my heart set on fire and i could feel it burn.

but i'll let him in and go after that beautiful face,
and hope that somewhere in his heart i'll find a place.

when will i have my first kiss, i can't help but wonder.
an old willow tree is a potential place where it could happen under?
the older i get, the more that i crave it.
it's not the type of feeling that you can just wait around and sit.
my raging hormones are begging for a set of soft and slightly chapped lips.
meanwhile, most of my classmates have moved faster and farther through their hips.
is it too much for a teenage girl to ask for?
i'm continually growing older and my heart as of lately, has been growing sore.
this is how it feels to be so wrapped up in an excessive, obsessive train of thought.
the simple truth is that i constantly think about our lips colliding, a lot.

it's four in the morning,
and the man you left is sitting on the barstool still in mourning.
he's trying to understand how you feel,
but it's really difficult to do since when  it comes to shots he's had his fill.
he wonders what he did wrong in the your relationship that from his perspective is "ours,"
and what you don't see as you walk away is that he feels remorse so he'll continue this cycle for hours.

what do you really know about me as a woman.
after all, we are two different halves for you are a man.

tell me what i can do with my body, i dare you to do so.
trust me, you will feel a hard blow.

because it is not just me that you are trying to control.
there are many women and we are not willing to be chained to a pole.

we as a collective group will not stand in silence.
but we will not also take a hand in the thing you expect, violence.

despite it all, it's not about what you want us to do, to act with poise.
for the ultimate fact is that we have the upper hand of choice.

i think we sometimes tend to forget
that sometimes the things that go, we let
maybe if we all tried a little harder to fight
these ghosts of the ones we loved would still be in sight
it's sad that things are sometimes this way
because at the end of the day, our happiness is the price we pay

the last time you held my hand was a decade ago
for a long time afterwards, life was at an all time low
but i recovered and i healed
because i learned that when life throws you a curveball, it doesn't mean your fate is sealed
i lost you and it hurt
your love for me should have been natural, like in the morning when one puts on a shirt
so yah i'm in pain staring at you now, as the tears roll down my face
i now rest my case
reality has set in, i'm no longer angry at you for leaving
i'm just sad that you decided to go, and that i have to live without you and i'm reminded of that through my breathing

i'm beyond stressed.
i can't help but wonder when the good lord will let me rest.
the pressure is building upon my shoulders.
like the ocean swells that crash upon the cliffside boulders.
all of these tiresome, daily meddles.
i'm waiting for the moment it all comes crashing down and the dust finally settles.

what i long for are those lips,
to take long, slow, and passionate sips.
to caress your rough, worn face.
as you play around with lace,
both our legs intertwine under the covers,
as you and i mold into one another as lovers

i don't want to run into you
because i'm afraid that if i do
my feelings for you are what i'll want to pursue

i'm in too deep
so maybe i should just take a leap,
a leap of faith in which i let go.
and maybe take control,
speak through my heart and soul.
speak through my heart and soul to say three words back to you,
i want you.

tell me what it's like to fall in love...
is it messy, scary, all you ever imagined it to be?
or does it make your heart flutter and fill you with glee?
tell me what it's like to fall in love...
having never felt it before, let me see your point of view,
just in case i can never experience those same feelings that ensue within you.

getting number day by day,
i don't know what i can say,
please mom, stay...
don't fade away,

i need you.

sad poetry,
that's what my mind says to me.
let it all all out,
vent and then try and pout.
because newpoetica, if you are honest with who you really are,
you can get yourself feeling up to par.
keep a healthy mind set,
because that's the least you can actually get.
the world is spinning,
your light is dimming.
and it's okay, my mind tells me,
but it's not okay to not live, because there is still so much more beauty for you to see.

often more times than not, i question if i have a knack for writing poems.
truth be told, i cannot discern the answer.
i attempt to make something roll off the tongue.
but, it's hard to do so when you don't know how to start.
so, a poet like me will have trials and tribulations that weigh heaviness on themselves.
it's the soul-crushing kind that feels similar to a heart aching.
because you want to be one of the best, but the reality is that you don't have the means to become better.

i'm awful and rotting,
i'm good for nothing.
i'm so far from being even a decent daughter.
in fact, i should be charged with a soul slaughter.
she's my own mom,
she has always made me so calm.
yet here i am breaking her,
making what little confidence she has left deter.
i don't know how to apologize,
when what i said to her was far from lies.
yet i took it too far,
i made her feel like she isn't up to par.
it was one hair color, but i know,
that she took it to heart, like an arrow from a bow.
what i wish she knew is that despite this mistake, i love her,
this is the only statement that i can say for sure.

before i knew it was all too good to be true,
i genuinely cared so much for you.
you put all this trust into a person,
but they let you walk away while they're there *******' and cursin'.
see, the thing is that we all want to see the person's best,
even though their hurtful words never give you a rest.
we want to see these people grow,
so that one day their love for us will maybe someday show.
that though, isn't love at all,
it's your eyes that are covered by a shawl.
it is good to have hope in the face of the worse,
but that viewpoint is also a curse.
truth be told, toxicity isn't always easy to leave,
this is a thought that's worth to conceive.
before i knew it was too good to be true,
i genuinely cared so much for you.

there's something so beautiful about you being broken,
you're still kind, honest, and open
you, my love, are yourself and unapologetic,
so as i attempt to string along these descriptions into something poetic
remember how much i adore you
there is nothing that i've felt to be more true
because even as you are struggling to move on
you still wake up each day to see the dawn

what do you do when you're ashamed?
do you cower with fear because you're the only one to be blamed?
the hardest part of admitting failure is knowing you're going to have to restart.
you finally realize that this time you have to play the part.
it means you must be responsible and willing,
instead of not studying, and staring at your bedroom ceiling.
i've learned this now, it only took two years.
but i swear this time around i'm all ears.
if i don't keep this promise to myself, then who am i.
because everything i say will be a lie.

you tell me to call
my head instead,
hits a wall
the fear of losing you,
it's killing me too
the fact that this could mean goodbye
if this life is your love,
then without your love, i will surely die

are you okay...
i'm walking down the long hall, after a long day
a girl quite a few inches taller than me,
hears my voice and turns to see
she looks to be about my age,
but something in her eyes doesn't want to engage
she looks empty and hurt,
like a voice battling to let it all out in a blurt
the tears down her face,
i can't help but wonder where their origins trace
so i go to the step and sit down,
so maybe, despite there being no water, she won't drown

her cracked lips and silent guilt
everything she now has, had to be built
to be strong, to be brave
he was the only person that she couldn't save
but the struggle wasn't her own to carry
because not all things in life are meant to be merry
she'll relearn to survive
to get out of this forsaken city, alive

today i woke up to see you next to me
softly, your life breathed out
...
and then back in

your hair was a mess,
sticking out in random places
looking at you like that made me want to leave marks on you
the kind that only you and i could remember and see

the sun hits your face,
as my fingers reach your face,
my lips brush the top of your head
and i'm at peace

i want to write about seeing your eyes in the stars
but all i can see is this ****** city's highway full of cars
i'm miles away from california
but i can still feel the euphoria
the euphoria of speeding along a trail
while the skies poured open with hail
we were young, wild, and free
you were the man who taught me what it was to see
without you i would not be the half of me today
there's so much more that i had planned to say
time was short with you though,
there was still these same thoughts that i wanted you to know

i don't want to romanticize it,
but i swore that when we were together, something fit
was it that on our first date,
we had such a great time that i actually stayed up late
or was it that after one month you promised me
that every indefinite sunday morning you loved me, you would brew tea
perhaps it was when i revealed everything about my past
you told me that despite my broken pieces, our love would always last
you never made me feel less when we were together
even when you bought that one jacket, when you know how i feel about non-vegan leather
throughout our small-matter fights,
we still came together to make love on those special nights
but, i don't want to romanticize it,
because i swore when we were together something just fit

you shaped me, so thank you. i'm glad that i got the pleasure to love you.

this life is not always about our dreams that are expected

instead the reality of our life becomes merely accepted

it's not wonderful nor is it bad

something about realization is sad

we just accept the mediocrities

when we wish to attain our wildest abilities

i was touched.

countless times, i was touched.

in between my thin legs, i was touched.

you...

you...

you...

you... you touched me.

did it make you feel good?

to do that to an eight year old?

grandpa?

no you...

you don't deserve that title...

fred?

did it make you feel good?

why?

and was that a good enough reason?

to touch me...

your own granddaughter...

you touched in between my thin legs.

did it make you feel good?

to touch me in such a ****** way...

you touched me countless times,

i, your grandaughter, was touched.

i was touched by you.

lift me up higher,

to a place where i can touch the heavens

if not the heavens, then at least the stars

if not the stars, then the clouds could do

if not the clouds, then you should not

you should not lift me up,

instead put me down,

if you should choose to put me down darling,

all i ask is that you do so,

you should do so gently.

people say I'm lucky to be seventeen.
because back then they were all young and lean.
people say at the ripe age of seventeen.
well they felt like they had everything.
all was good.
because things just should.
but do you remember being seventeen?
it feels like a movie scene.
we laugh, we cry.
sometimes we just want to die.
we want room to breathe.
but everybody wants to make us seethe.
it gets really tough.
so we try to act rough.
oh seventeen.
stop acting mature, stop being so keen.
seventeen.

i think you ought to know

about my first memories in the snow

the cold icicles were held by a tree

while inside grandma was brewing a kettle of tea

because outside the frost was out to bite

the powder-covered trees were a sight

mr. snowman was built

while my young knees were on the ground, knelt

something about that snow

it is an ode to a time that was far from so-so

sometimes i look at you across the room and feel.
i cannot quite pinpoint what it is.
my heart thumps around wildly, skipping beats.
my brain feels numb in a daze.
my soul, it's singing about your eyes.
something about this feeling isn't a typical kind of love.
it's much, much more than that.
it's passion, fire, and our end.
i often think it's because i love you that i don't pursue you.
but it's actually fear.
it's that i'm afraid you'll love me too much and my lust will end.
i cannot break something as beautiful as you.
i cannot help you rebuild after i burn the home your soul resides in.
for it is not our home.
it's your home and i'm just the pillow on the left side of your bed, the sappy things in your drawer, the five photos on your fireplace, the one note in your wallet.
it can never be us, because it is you and me.
i won't treasure you, i'll throw you away just like you'll throw away my things once i leave.
so as i look at you across the room and feel something, look away.
because i am your future.
i am your heartbreak.
i feel what you feel even though i don't feel the same way.
i feel your heartache.
and am selfish for wanting you while seeing the future
i know it
and for that,
i am sorry