When I first saw you, I thought to myself:
"I really like her septum piercing."
And I told you.
You showed me how you could move it without touching it,
and I thought that was pretty cool.
Then I noticed your face.
Your beautiful, breath taking brown eyes that had the slightest hint of green.
Then I noticed your clothes, and how you carried yourself.
You always looked like you could punch someone if you needed to, but still elegant.  
Then I noticed your sense of humor, and your love for drugs.
Then I noticed the scars on your arm.
and I understood.
You were my friend.
You told me you were a model once, and honey, it was obvious.
You are the most beautiful girl I have ever met.
But you never believed me when I told you that.
You never believed anyone.
And maybe if you did, you'd still be here.
If we ever met again, I would make sure you knew.
I would make sure you knew how loved you were, and how amazing you are.
Because maybe if I told you more often,
maybe if you knew, or if we got you help,
just maybe..,
you wouldn't have left.
And just maybe, I wouldn't cry when a train passed my house.

What if you bumped with a stranger?
Neatly dressed and obviously good looking
With eyes that melts when he gazed
And handsomeness you can’t resist
How would you react?
What if he offered a hand to help you rise?
You find that hand well maintained
With those long fingers and soft palm
Would you not hesitate to accept it?
What if he beamed at you?
It is a kind of warm and sincere smile
With those nice, glossy, red lips
Would you trust him your smile too?
What if he looked at you intently?
Considering the admiration you found in his eyes
With the fact that he is the most
Attractive man you ever laid eyes on
Would you give him a hint of your attraction?
What if he asked too much ‘bout you
Yet never gave you the chance to know him better
Would you let yourself be entertained?
By his deep, authoritative voice
Would you rather talk to him with fondness?
What if you've been asked to go out?
Get to know each other well, have some fun
Would you give him just a chance?
What if you found yourself enjoying his company?
‘Til your feelings for him developed
The once admiration you've felt grew and now blooms
Would you give yourself a chance to love and be loved?
Would you question the shortness of time spent?
To let that feeling reign
Would it matter to you?
How much you've known each other
Not that much yet the feeling overflows
Would it be a big deal to you?
That you’re just mere strangers
Who accidentally met, out of millions?
In this wide, topsy – turvy world…

As a child I was taught poetry
the quiet writing of feelings reflections
often in a beat with a rhyme and a few examples of alliteration

I was taught that as a woman my feelings
should be hid and kept quiet
that when I liked a boy it was not my place
to ask him whether he liked me back
I was taught to look out for myself by not dressing slutty
not walking home late at night
I was taught that my curvy figure would make people
question my morals my virginity my character
I was taught that as a girl I won't be as successful in math or science
I was taught to give myself to other pursuits
in liberal arts or domestic dealings
I was taught that even if by some miracle I found success in the fields where I "wouldn't be successful"
that I would and should give it up in a heart beat to raise a family
I was taught that I must share my feelings
my emotions my struggles
but not in a loud and open way

I had to remain quiet cool composed

Poetry was to be my outlet, written in couplets sonnets and verse
quiet and held inside written on paper
stored away from the world
to be read inside the mind
by others- men, teachers, parents
in order to decode me
and learn how to
keep
me

silent