Fall in love with yourself.

Learn how to be infatuated
with the veins in your hands
and the stretchmarks on your tummy.
Make your own heart race
as you whisper those
three words,
eight letters
to yourself
over and over again.

I love you.
I love you.
I love you.

And mean it.

If you can learn how to
profess your undying love
to the naked, scared figure
in the mirror,
you can learn how to
daydream about a future
where you
and that person
are finally happy.

If you can give
a piece of your heart
to that stranger on the bus,
why can't you give everything
back to yourself?

You,
who picked your broken self up
after dropping to your knees
one too many times.

You,
who dragged your ***
to the toilet
after drinking the night away
(even though you promised
that you wouldn't do it again).

You,*
who wasn't always there,
but tried to make it up to yourself
by covering your wounds
with purple plasters
and starlight.

Because when people
turn out their pockets
with no spare love
to hand to you,
you will stuff your hands into yours
and give them some of your own
without ever running out of supply.

“The sun died every night
just to let the moon breathe.”

I shivered, as whispered screams and silent pain of fragmented hearts
Pierced through the atmosphere of comfortable lies and prison bars
Looking down upon streets filled with hushed crying in locked cars
******* the words “I’ve been left” in my palm filled with glass shards
I am looking at the moon, and I am reminded that there is still someone
That touches my soul and feeds me emotions when I thought I had none
I am looking at the moon.

It is 2:58 am and I am writing this to expel your fingerprints from my body
Because your being has covered my skin with memories of love and beauty
The dead beating of my heart cannot forget how it felt when you came near
How the mere mention of your name caused my eyes to only see you clear
I am looking at the moon, with its silver skin, gleaming light and mesmerizing craters
And I am reminded of what we were, how we were beautifully imperfect chapters
I am looking at the moon, again.

It is 3:15 am and I am still trying to forget how a love so beautiful can crumble
My heart’s still pumping blood that seems to heat when your image tumbles
We were something real; *we were lost fingertips that found home in each other’s palms
But time was too weak to grasp a love so soft, a love that resembles seas that were calm
You were the moon and I was an ocean, and I willingly let you pull at my veins
Causing a tidal wave of memories and unspoken words that left me insane
I am looking at the moon, still.

It is 3:41 am and I am still thinking about your hands and how they held an atlas
How you memorized maps of my surface and how beautiful things don’t really last
We were something beautiful and true and something that was bound to break
Our love was a forest of mixed rose bushes and thorns that time wanted to take
But don’t worry about me, the moon still listens, its light still glistens on my scars
And I can close my eyes knowing that *you and I still cry under the same moon.
So I will look at the moon, for as long as needed,
until your hands
aren’t my home
**anymore.

I believe in the misunderstood, the underestimated, and the overlooked. I believe in society's want for you to stop being creative, to conform, to be ready when society tells you you're an unoriginal, uncreative human being right after you graduate. I believe death is a ***** and that the "living" don't really exist.  I believe classrooms are hell, colleges are satans, and teachers are noble but wannabe St. Peters. Grades aren't supposed to judge but everyone judges by numbers. I believe everyone hates society but fail to know that they ARE society. I believe in the failure to connect and that those who are isolated are the ones who have the most potential to be great. I believe scientists are better bosses than management graduates who are taught to follow the money when scientists are taught to follow the truth. I believe the truth is a lie and that the world is nothing but a big fat machine. People are liars, I am a liar and I  believe everyone is just dying. I believe suicide is courageous, because facing the unknown is always more courageous than facing the expected. I believe in the plastics and  the cynicals. I believe in poetry and I believe in absolutely no one and nothing at all.

An eyelash on my cheek.
I caught it and blew it.
With the wind.
A star shoots across the sky.
I tied a knot.
A four-leaf clover.
I almost stepped on it.
11:11.
Says my Casio digital watch.
A coin lying on the sidewalk.
I flipped it down the well.

Fingers crossed.
Eyes closed.

I feel lucky.
I wish for you.

Scared of my own past
  Now I can't really look back
  Memories were bad
Don't remind me now
  For I have decided that
  I should look forward