if only she knew
how effortlessly beautiful
she can be.

when i look into her eyes,
i see no darkness;
no uncertainty.

she gives me hope,
and that's all i ever needed
from another being.

if only she knew
how much my love for her
grows each day.

no matter what she does,
or how imperfect she looks,
i still admire every aspect of her.

she has her own special way
of expressing her love,
but i know she does.

i am hard to handle,
and i can be a lot,
but i pray she sticks with me

because it is almost certain
that i like her more than my last.
(and i'm still getting to know her)

dear sophia,
i love you.

my reflection is distorted,
i cannot see who i truly am.
the person looking back at me
is someone i don't recognize.

where did it all go wrong?
where's that little girl who wanted to be older?
where's the daughter that never did anything wrong?

i should've saved her innocence
before it was too late.

i don't know how to tell you,
but i've always loved you.
you're my best friend,
but i've always felt more.

it's been 2 years:
2 years of looking into your eyes
and knowing you don't feel the same,
because you're straight.

i love your dyed hair,
i love your music taste,
i love your style,
i love you.

we both know you don't love me like that;
but whenever you touch my arm,
or smile with your perfect teeth,
i fall more each time.

it's the small things:
like when you look to the side and think i'm not watching,
or the giggle when i make stupid jokes.
you're perfect for me,
and that's what hurts the most.

there is a strong flame
burning inside of me

every second
of every day

i want to punch a wall
or stab into my skin

but i keep it all inside

"i'm not a poet,
i'm just a woman"

feminism was never
etched into our minds,
like patriarchy was;

we must find our own voices,
for man cannot do it for you.

my old love poems for you
are breaking me apart as i write this.

you were my everything,
and now you're just words on a screen.

we were what used to be.

i am a forgetful person:
i don't know your shoe size
or your favorite food,
but the face you make
before we kiss
is engraved in my mind.

i probably won't remember what your plans are for tomorrow,
yet i still notice the way
you twirl your hair to put it in a bun.

i've memorized the feeling of your warm hands intertwined with mine.
i am a writer:
i notice small things about everyone,
but it's different for you,
because you're my muse;
my inspiration.
i create artwork
simply from observing.

i love writing
i love all music
i love my girlfriend
i love my family
i love basketball
i love learning
i love debating
i love decorating
i love planning
i love movies
i love fashion
i love thinking about you
i love long boarding
i love my hair
i love my eyes
i love my stuffed animal
i love girls that remind me of the sun
i love feeling my emotions
i love my baggy jeans
i love sweatshirts
i love my room
i love my hands
i love my name
i love me.

but i also hate how i talk
i hate how i walk
i hate how i run
i hate my laugh
i hate my voice
i hate my mind
i hate ignorance
i hate skinny jeans
i hate ponytails
i hate when people touch me
i hate how they make me feel
i hate boys that are incels
i hate boys
i hate trump
i hate society
i hate my face shape
i hate my learning style
i hate my body
i hate me.

so which is it, noelle?

i'm not quite sure

we've always had a rough relationship.
i either refuse or simply can't.
i ate half a muffin yesterday because my father watched me.
i ate a slice of pizza at school because my friend was concerned.
it was all fine because i threw it up after.

so many words resonate with me;
in music,
poems,
movies,
and in my mind.

but i cant seem to
write them down anymore.

everyone i know has betrayed me
in some way.
every time something goes right,
it all goes wrong again.

there's too much on my mind
to organize it into beautiful words.

so here i lie,
pouring my heart out,
yet there's still more i want to say.

lean back,
listen closely to the lyrics,
feel the beat rush through your body,
let it drown out your sorrows.

it’s only momentary,
but it’ll make you feel something:
something more than agony,
something more than nothing.
any feeling is better than this.

you could say i’m addicted,
but music breathes.
music evolves.
music loves.
music dies.
and so do I.

that is my addiction:
i don’t feel so lonely all the time.

the joy, grief, and comfort you provide me...

you shine when i can’t do so.
your brightness stings my soul.
only you can possibly know
what happens in the nighttime.

i envy you;
an object that can withstand forceful winds,
and the coldest of nights.

i look out to you
and hope i can find some clarity
on the darkest thoughts
that roam my mind.

i search for my true identity;
a search that may be endless,
but I must try.

if only I could be a sturdy streetlight,
planted in the earth,
instead of my head in the clouds.

someone could tell me every day
that they love me,
but i will always remember
that one time
when they forgot to say it back.

why do we think back
to the negatives
when the positives
are right in front of us?

i didn't know i would like you this much,
but the way you laugh
when i say something stupid,
the way your hands
touch my body,
and the way we stay talking for hours,
makes me want this forever.

everything is lined up perfectly, except my mind.
the urge to fix that blanket consumes me
because if i don't clean,
something bad will happen.

obsessive: unwelcome thoughts, images, urges, worries or doubts that repeatedly appear in my mind

compulsive: repetitive activities that i do to reduce the anxiety caused by the obsession

i am constantly submerged
in an overwhelming amount of anxiety
caused by little things normal people
would never notice.

once upon a time,
a beautiful woman fell in love
with a handsome man.
they did what was normal:
moved in
traveled
had a kid
had another
and then one more.

that last one was me.
dear god, i wish they had stopped after two.
they're not bad parents.
this is just a miserable world.

school
work
money
death.

i want more.
i demand more.

but when does it get better?
a year or two?
nope.
next week?
maybe.

no one knows.
maybe it never does.
it's all chance.

10.09.20
we had a connection at the first look.

we've blossomed from
acquaintances
to friends
to a little more,
and now i can't get you off my mind.

i never thought
i'd like you this much,
but things change;
people change.

sometimes for the worse,
but in my case,
so much better.

i crave you.
i crave your hands running along my arm.

a soft kiss on my cheek
quickly accelerating
into something i should not be doing.

it's not because i'm young,
it's because i shouldn't love you.

our parents were taught we cannot love
who we want;
that love was limited.

this is another false idea society has created.
i feel too strong for this to be wrong.

society is a prison
it traps you
and steals your individuality.
makes you conform
until you are “normal”

so why don’t we escape?
break the rules?

because we are afraid
afraid of being alone
loneliness rots the mind.
it numbs your heart.

i think we all decided
being trapped together
is better than to be free
and alone.

maybe i do deserve the pain
i give it to others anyways
doesnt that make me a bad person?
don't i deserve to be punished?

“open up” they said,
and my heart listened

my mouth opened,
and words flooded out

but just as fast as i spoke,
the regret crept in

sinching my waist
smaller
and smaller
every week

i'm not skinny enough

and it never stops
i am never satisfied
when i look in the mirror

i will never be satisfied
if i can't see my ribs
piercing through my skin

everything looks better
through rose colored glasses,
but in those moments i take them off,
everything goes quiet,
but it's almost excruciatingly loud.

my thoughts overwhelm my mind,
so i put on my glasses
and distract myself
from the ongoing misery in my heart
because nothing else seems to work.

i want to push everyone away
so i don't have any more reasons to live
i want to give up
and not feel bad about it
but i love them too much

isn't it so strange
that we carve into our skin,
we let drugs course through our veins,
because we don't love ourselves.

we make wishes upon our blood,
hoping maybe tomorrow
we'll be dead.

we are all so painfully tired
that we cannot bear to live in our bodies
for one more day

when I walked into the room and saw you
my body did not react like it had
the first time

I waited for my heart to abandon me
for my legs to freeze up
to fall to the ground
crying at your feet

nothing happened
there's no connection
or movement inside when we locked eyes

you looked like a regular girl
with your regular clothes
and regular face
nothing profound about you

I don't give myself enough credit
my body must've cleansed itself of you
a long time ago
must've gotten tired of you
behaving like I was nothing
and rung the insecurities out
while I was busy wallowing in pity

even though we were under the same roof
I was still solar systems away from you

but you promised me.
you said we were infinite.

why did you lie
  why
    why
      why

you're dragging me down a steep staircase.
and i'm allowing it.

because i love you.