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.

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 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

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 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

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

as the sun rises, a california poppy blooms...

awake, face-to-face, in a dream haze i  see you.
blue body, your body is blue.
still, i can see your body still.
waiting for the final release, we both broke free.
chains, chains that held us both onto each other.
there's nothing like a bond between daughter and mother.
when, when we found your body pale and blue.
prayed we did, in hopes that we would still get to see you.
pumping into lifeless veins, so little oxygen remained.
cold, still, and dead you were.
the only conclusion is that you were gone, it was what was left to concur.

but,
i still see you, hear you, and breathe you.

because,

as the sun rises, a california poppy blooms...

they remind me of you mom,
i can hear the petals rustle softly and know you're with me,
i can exchange oxygen with it, in hopes that it won't lose the battle of life this time around.

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.

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

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.

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

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.

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.

mom, what can i do?
i desperately want to be there for you.
but you bring your lips to the bottle,
and it makes your head spin in full throttle,
you don't want the help from your family,
so someday you'll change your mind for yourself, hopefully.

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.

give me a sign,
that you are mine,
so i can say the line,
despite the short time,
that love is not a crime.

all i ever want to do
is to kiss you
that's a little white lie
because i'm kind of shy
admitting that the real show
your soul is what i want to know
i'm afraid that the me that is real
is something you'll have to peel
and see that underneath
i'm sharp and foreign and bite like teeth
so to keep this sort of brief
i'll still turn over a new leaf
and hope you'll love all of me
and still be the only girl you see

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

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

i need 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.

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.

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 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.

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.

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.

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

people say that from up above you can hear,
but what if all i want and need is for you to be near.
so i can get angry and upset one last time,
so that i can hold onto you and write you one last rhyme.
if you're not around in my life anymore,
how can i heal from the pain that's in my heart at its core.
how can i talk to someone who isn't there,
if you won't answer and i only see those lifeless eyes stare.
you're in an abyss, a place unknown,
and god only knows if you're trying to find your way back home.
i know, i know, you won't be coming back,
but the feeling of having no mother is starting to make my heart crack.

the tears rush out along with heavy heaving
i hate that you didn't tell me you were leaving
i'm getting tired of this entire process of grieving

as these roots grow deeper,
the seeds of love grow eager,
they want to strive
for a deeper thirst in which they dive.

boom, a sprout begins to bloom.

someday very soon,
under the sun, not the moon,
our petals blossom and display,
our feelings at which we kept at bay.

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.

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

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.

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

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.

why is it that poetry?
is the one thing that lets me work through my anxiety...
why is it that poetry?
gives me one of the only chances i get to feel alright and free...
why is it that poetry?
sometimes no longer makes my mind feel more calm put together to a t...

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

picture this
growing old with someone you love
that you look across the table every morning and thank the heavens above
picture this
someone who is willing to give up their time
because they like interpreting all your riddles and rhymes
picture this
someone who holds your hand as they drive
someone isn't afraid of being vulnerable and ready to take the dive
picture this
all the hopeless-romantic love songs suddenly mean something
because you've finally found the one who has everything

it's been three months that together, we've been through
and by some chance, somehow, i still want to keep waking up everyday and choose you.
maybe it's because you make me a little more brave
or maybe because when i'm with you i don't feel like a damsel in distress you have to save.
yes, i still struggle with my irrational and pointless insecurity
but being with, and loving you has become my priority.
i'm no longer afraid of falling, as i was before
because being in love with you and who i'm getting to know, has never been a bore.