Strength is a fragile, fragile thing.

One minute.
I'm a warrior.
Sword drawn,
***** face in tow.

The next
I am putty
in your palms.
Transformed to tears.

It’s hazy tonight as the quarter half moon glows
I grip the edges tight as the moist wind gently blows
Sitting on the rocks of the roof with soft hushed voices
Suddenly not caring about making the wrong choices
The cityscape is faint under shrouds of cool grey mist
I think of all these moments that I know I could’ve missed
My friends sit close and look up, staring up to find the stars
Me pointing out the landmarks, all of them sitting out so far
A moment of sisterhood and rebellion that we have never shared
We pull our shirts and bras off as if we had never cared
We three expose ourselves to the world that softly sleeps
This memory is ours, and it’s only ours to keep.

I remember bottling up the beach for you since you've never been.
To you it's just sand.

hungry eyes
vacant stares
sunday morning
monday dares

tired feet
clumsy legs
silent whimpers
and yet he begs

my hands are covered
in blood that is not mine.
he reaches into my chest
for a heart he can't find.

let him know it's not him.
let him know it's not love.
it's a temporary feeling
that i no longer dream of.