and there's something about
turning 16
and filling your lips with
the deepest red
in the mirror

how it feels
like you've become a rose
freshly unfurled from
some skeleton,
your colours as rich and
viscous as your dripping blood

yet a rose that's closed
in a glass jar, you are
turned and admired, you are
twirled in fingers
like the stem of a wineglass

because at 16,
you feel you are something
refined,
mature and flowing and
beautiful

older

but it's only
your mother's lipstick;
she too is getting old.
at night you take
the crimson off,
and the rest of you
comes into focus.
all your yellows, all your blues;
you will need to love them too

and don't you let the laughter
slide off from
your new scarlet mouth
because you're 16 now.
it will try to
and you will need to pick it up
off the floor

because you're 16 now
but remember one thing for me:
you are far more sturdy
than just a rose

you are a girl
you are every colour
you think you haven't become

I lost my way
When I lost you
Beaten broken
Black and blue.

Bring me back
Feet between
Wake me wake me
From my dream.

Hello again
My poetry friends.
Relapsed and
So I've grabbed
My pen

To share with you
The words and rhymes
Spilt,
Ever so delicately.  
Please don't mind

~Taylor

She said he'll be back
She said his doing everything for us
She said his getting tired serving others just to provide my future
She said his a good man
And I believe it every day
Until one day
She said he'll never go back
I get sad and asked her why
She answered me and said his busy serving others
So I went into our roof and put on my blanket on my neck and tight it up
I lift up my two arms and shout
"I'll be there dad. I'll help you serve others so you can finally go home."
And then I jump.
Thats where I got my scar
Cause I fell down
They send me to hospital but he never came
I was hurt but what hurts the most is knowing that all you have been believing for so long was all lie
He has a new family and he didn't choose us
He choose to leave us
And from then I vow myself not to talked to him ever again.

I feel like I'm breaking,
No,
I've been broken,
I feel like I'm slipping,
No,
I've already fallen,
I feel like I'm dying,
No,
I'm already dead inside,
I feel like crying,
No,
These tears are already dry.

I hate her so much
Ruined after this torture
Cuts clinging to
My bed sheets
As I lie here
With Blistered eyes
Letting her win...
I'd rather die
She will not get the best of me
As I soak my cheeks
With tears that don't belong to her
I am not her prisoner
Drops that I own
They come from
Loathing my identity
I swim deep in my own animosity
Wishing I didn't exist

© Jl 2016