I've been told not to run with scissors.
I've been told to be safe and not sorry.
I've been told to live quiet and lonely.
Not to feel; but to hear, not to listen.

I've been told to keep feelings inside me.
I've been told to love words when unspoken.
I've been told not to care for what's broken.
Not to know; but to touch, without feeling.

But who am I? A girl made of feelings.
Who am I? A person of soul.
Who am I? The one at the base rung,
Ready to catch those who fall.

Who am I? The first one to stand up.
Who am I? The one who can fly.
Who am I? A friend who will be there,
No matter at what time of day.

Yes, it arrived unexpected.
Am I a bit over the top?
No. I have been this way, always.
It just took its sweet time to come out.

Sure, it'd be nice to walk
Along the shore of the beach
And watch the sun set
With you.

But I'm happy enough to run
In circles around the track
And watch the grass wilt
With you.

Sure, it'd be nice to cuddle
While eating junk food and snacks
And watch a horror movie
With you.

But I'm happy enough to sit
While laughing over your shoulder
And watch funny videos
With you.

Sure, it'd be nice to be
The one whom you call "yours"
And to be loved back
By you.

But I'm happy enough to love
The perfect person you are
And savor the moments I spend
With you.

Hey.
I, uh...
I
don't want to
hurt your feelings, and I
know you and
I both
don't like this part. If you hate me forever after this, I understand
why. But it's the truth;
you and I both know it. I
want to
try and make
this brief, but I tend to be bad at that.

I appreciate that
You're brave enough to take the first step and
not wait for me to do it. Most people
need someone else to initiate things for them, so congrats on your fortitude. That's
a
good thing to have.

I'm sure you've had your heart
break
enough, but I honestly don't like you like.. that. It doesn't mean I'll
Leave you out or exclude you
from my
life. And anyway, even if you don't have
me, you don't have to be
alone. There are other fish in the sea.

I just don't love you like.. that.
Please don't cry.

Okay?

Need something?
I'll be in the
Asylum
If you're lucky

If this poem had a life before I wrote it,
this poem was a penguin.
This poem waddled,
not just because it was a penguin,
also because this poem was fat.
This poem was a fat penguin.
And not just the black and white kind;
this poem was an electric blue fat penguin
who never really understood it was different
until its parents let it out to play with the other little penguins
and they started teasing it and calling it blue bird.
Until that moment,
this poem had no idea that it was a bird.
All this poem knew was that its heartbeat was like a simile
and it had metaphors for feet
and they did not dance.
This poem embraced its electric blue nature
and never saw itself as the underdog
because it was a penguin who lived in Antarctica
and it had no concept of what a dog was
or what it might be under.
Penguins just don’t think like that.
This poem smacked a seal with a couplet underwater.
None of the other penguins believed it,
but it did.
This poem waddled with a lazy swag
and leaned a little to the right
so sometimes it walked in circles.
This poem had 360 degrees of perspective
and -50 degree wind chills.
This poem had more than 50 words for snow
and no words for poetry.
It just lived
and didn't even listen to what other people wrote about it
because it's windy in Antarctica
and you can't really hear much.