I love how you treat me.

It’s how, to you, I must be the earth you walk on,
the earth you spit your gum into.

It’s the way you try to start a fight
with every syllable that comes from my mouth.

I love the way you apologize,
even though we both know it means nothing.

I love how impatient you are with me,
especially when I forget you’re an all-knowing piece of perfection.

It makes me swoon
when you call me stupid to my face.

I fall head over heels
when you question everything I say.

My heart skips a beat whenever you say my name,
and you say it with disgust.

I love when you tell me you care,
and then go out of your way to cause me discomfort.

I love it the most when everything I do
comes in second to whatever you do.

I love how you treat me.

Her mother pushed religious ******* down her throat
But she refused to listen
Her mother pulled her hair and took away her hope
But she had accepted long ago her mothers love had conditions
Her mother always let her get caught in the crossfire of her anger
But she just locked herself in her room to forget
Her mother constantly called her a failure
But she didn't need her mother to remind her of her regrets
Her mother was fed up with her passive aggressive behavior
But she knew she deserved better than this neglect
Her mother always yelled at her for never talking
And she let hollow silence be her reply
It wasn't until her mother said "You should **** yourself."
That she happily complied

Fingerprints,
from a past lover,
cover every inch of my body.
Every place has been explored,
and exposed.

Cuts and bruises,
scars from pain,
left by my family,
they ache when I am reminded of them.

Broken bones,
from people I once trusted,
to catch me when I fell,
let me slip through their fingers.

My past has left me marked,
my past has left me tattered and worn,
my past has left me broken.

I woke up breathless and perplexed
The veil between reality and dreams hazy
I felt the ghost of your lips on mine
And then remembered they were never there to begin with

If our love story were in photographs
You'd see two socially awkward teenagers
Completely candid and unchoreographed
Quick little snapshots of two people who slowly became friends

You'd see moments of a girl falling for a boy with black curls and skinny jeans
Her depth of field was shallow and she couldn't see she was obsessing over the wrong person
Her mind was muddles by her crush and she couldn't see clearly through her lens

You'd see her slowly lose affection for the boy in skinny jeans
And her f-stop finally let the light in
Her brunnette best friend started occupying her dreams
Oh no, she couldn't be falling for her best friend?

You'd see time lapse photography of a girl who couldn't admit the truth
Every girl thinks of kissing her best guy friend, right?
She knew that in a game of love, she would always lose
He occupied her brain like works of modern art

You'd find a picture of a girl who finally accepted how she felt
And stopped seeing things in monochrome
She took a chance at love
And captured the best picture of them all

I want my heart to stop beating
thoughts stop thinking
breathes to stop gasping
I'm tired and I want to go to bed.

we are bound by the electric
tape of music, poetry, dance,
a binding that only the rough cut
of a blade can sever.

rings, each of us have worn,
gold bands, for me three,
which I wore about my neck,
reminder, rings are easy removed,

but bind us in love,
of the pleasure of,
all things beautiful,
and
our boundaries become
one and the same,
there is no sundering
as long as we can
read, listen and dance
to the art of us.

"Well that's yer opinion" she shrugged and turned on er heels, she was downright determined to be right. That's all she really cared 'bout, was her. I don't recollect  a moment she wavered any other way. I suppose that's the country girl in er, never back down, never let em' see you cry. Er daddy taught er that and ta get back up on that pony even if you done skinned yer knees. So she stood tall all er life, she showed er smilin' side, she's a proud one that girl,  through and through. Weren't no tears in er less she was breathin' in poison or cuttin up an onion or sonethin' like that, well y'all know what I mean. Mad as a wild dog inside but you'd never know it. She'd carry the weight of ten men. I just wanted to see a bit of er bein', what's the word,  uh vul-ner-ble or sonethin like that. So I tried, I tried to be a consoler. I tried ta listen when she wouldn't talk. I could tell there was alot ta hear. **** it she just wouldn't see me. She just say "that's yer opinion". She was stuck. Stuck bein' strong, but what more could she be? It's all she knew.