Don’t cry for me
I’m not gone.
My soul is at rest,
My heart lives on.
Light a candle
For me to see
And hold on to
My memory.
But save your tears
For I’m still here
By your side
Through the years.
  
            -Christy Ann Martine

“She’s fearless”
They might say.
But I shake
My head because



One cannot be brave who has no fear.

You once said that
You loved me and
I believed you
Can’t you see?

I said it back
And meant it too
But that was before
I was betrayed by you.

All that he says is
I love you three thousand
And I am in tears.

I’ve been tied to a stereotype
With a rope I can’t break.
They think I’m the girl
That will never take a break.

But that’s not me
I don’t fit that list
But they tell me I do
Do I like it? They wish.

Society has many rules
And poems have them, too.
“It has to rhyme”, they say.
“It must have a rhythm, too.”

But I intend to end those rules
       I intend to break free
So maybe my poems aren’t the best,
But at least I’m being me.

A few minutes after
You chose to leave,
I forgot to breath.
I forget to breath.
I forget to.
I forget.
I.
.
.
.
—