"you can't just
touch my soul
and leave"

I grew up
reading books about
boys
who say things like,
"You're so beautiful,"
or
"God, I can't believe
I've never known you
before"
and they kiss the girl
and they fall in love
and maybe there's a struggle
somewhere in the middle
but everything is
o k a y
and in the moments after
hearing how beautiful
and wonderful
and amazing
she is,
the girl is happy,
the girl is loved,
the girl is l o v e d.

The last boy who told me I was beautiful
didn't listen
when i said
NO
and I sobbed in my own bed
for three nights
and I couldn't touch my sheets
for five
because it takes a long time
to get blood stains out
when you use the cheap washers
in the dorms.

The last boy who told me I was amazing
left me at five in the morning
and said he'd call
and even as he looked me in the eye,
I knew he wouldn't.

The last boy who told me he liked me
said so as he tried to push my head
in a direction I didn't want it to go
and it seems
that all of these compliments
are meant to be segways
into getting something more.

These compliments
have turned into warnings,
red lights,
get out,
get out,
he only wants you
for your body
and I don't know
how I am ever supposed
to believe someone
when they actually mean it
when all I know
is sugar-coated bullets.

I am reading a book
where the boy whispers
promises between kisses
and I realize
I have never kissed anyone in
the light
and I am numb inside
and I do not want to be called
beautiful
anymore because to me
that means I am
about to be shot.

in the most
simplistic way
i wanted him
and sometimes
i wanted all of him,
every season of his
mind and body
i wanted
cutesy notes on monday
slurred i love you friday nights
lazy sunday morning breakfast
then again
i never expected anything
from him
as much as i would have loved
to be under his skin
it was enough for my heart
to simply be
on his skin

Everyone complains about how long my showers take.
I wish they understood that they're my only time to break.
Out of my thoughts and out of my head.
Out of this place, constant swimming with dread.
wet
scrub
rinse
repeat
No need to think
So blissful and sweet.

Hello poetry
Is more like my diary
Than it is poems.
Maybe that's all poetry ever is.
A prettily worded diary.

I'm doing much better now.
Smile more.

I can walk by a radio playing
Slow music without

Speeding up. "...I wish nothing
But the best

For you..." Still, perhaps weekly, 
My thoughts touch upon that

Tiny, little loveborn mistake
We made; how we cried together

Over the decision we came to, and
I sit down behind a corner with

My head in my hands and regret
That we -back then- decided not

To keep
It.

Playful nights,
Brightest lights,
I love you my beautiful flower.
We can talk for hours,
As our love grows in power,
I love you my beautiful flower.
At the darkest night,
With all my might,
I wish we could be together.
You're perfect to me,
With all of you tea,
I love you my beautiful flower.