There’s no one to hold me
To tell me “It’ll be alright”
No one to love me
Or to kiss me goodnight

I’m always alone
With no one to care
Longing for someone
Who isn’t there

Wishing for love
On every star
Looking for comfort
From near or far

Hoping for someone
Who will honestly care
Waiting for someone
Who will always be there

Wanting to love
And be loved just the same
For someone to know me
Not just my name

Longing and searching
In vain so it seems
Only ever finding love
In my dreams

Am I destined
To be alone?
To wonder through life
Unloved and unknown?

So hungry for love
Someone to call mine
Desperately hoping
For some kind of sign

Something to tell me
He’s on his way
He’s searching for me
And he’ll find me one day

That someone will love me
That someone will care
That I won’t be alone
That he will be there

Waiting and hoping
For it to be true
I guess for now
That’s all I can do

they say
he must be lucky
the guy who gets to have me
and i just look in your eyes
and see the hell i have put you through
they fell in love w my words
but i wonder do they know
that this is not beautiful
all these words may make depression look pretty
but it is not
it is not easy to be w a girl
who wants to crawl into the tiniest space of you
and make her home there
it is not easy to be with a girl
who makes you her air
it is not easy to see her
cringe at her own reflection
it is not easy to love her
when all she has is hatred for her self
it is not easy to look at her
when you read her poems about how she wants to peel off her skin
till nothing of her remains
it is easy to say
he must be a lucky guy
lemme assure you
he is not
im not blushing cheeks and perfect smiles
Im not about classy looks and vintage dresses
im like the storm and the only way i know how to show my love is to destroy
it is not easy to talk to her
when she replies in proses and riddles
it is not easy to hold her
when one moment she is warm and cuddlable
and the next she is spitting fire
it is not easy to tolerate her
when one small mistake and
it has already been
carved as a poem
it is not easy to survive her intense gaze
it is not easy to look back into her eyes
when she is looking at you w too much emotions contained in her eyes
too strong for you to take
she is everything
or nothing
or both
at the same time
she is every shade of every color
simulataneously
Ill overwhelm you
or i can make you question your own existence
cause i dont know any other way
to love
than to make you my all
and to be your all
ill love you w a passion
you have never seen before
but can your feeble heart
take it?
do you think
your calculated actions and diplomatic decisions
will help you then?
you may be fooled by my smile
and my gentle voice in which i talk to you
but there is a lot to me
than what meets your eyes
there will always be more to me
than you ll know
and you may think it is easy to love me
but it is not
you are a dreamer, you are in love with the idea of me
while you remain oblivious of
all the stories behind the words i have not yet written
and the words you ll never see.
It is effortless to fall in love with a poem
but being with a poet is a totally different thing
don't you now agree?

She likes fashion and interviews. I like getting lost.
Sometimes she grabs my bulge,
as she drinks from an aluminum flask.
She told me to rhyme something with 'flask'.
I said, "Fine. In your life, you've been wearing a mask.
But I can see. And you can see. They can't see.
That you are a detached, blond doll
and your back is against the wall,
as I kiss your neck until you're dead."
She said to rhyme something with 'dead'.
I said, "Fine. You ******* in my head.
And it's quarrelsome
that they don't see that you're numb.
I'd pull on your lip, with my teeth.
Dig my hand between your legs.
Just to make you feel. Just to make you feel.
And I study your hairbrush
to see that there are too much
strands of memories from melodies
that lay dormant in ballrooms
and scented kisses
that drip of the misses
in your life and mine."
She said **** me with your words.
I refused because I'd rather watch her bloom
in my dreams than the seams of
a fiber noose that rings loose
the bell in your neck
that sounds until birds fly
and we die-
You look at me,
"Home."

i write about love
yet i know nothing of it
i dream about love
yet i know i will never get it
not the kind of love
your parents give you
nor the kind of love
your friends show you
i crave that kind of perfect love
that will make your heart feel infinite
that the warm feelings
that you cannot possibly put into words
would feel like it would
never end
that kind of perfect love
that would make your skin
feel like electricity
every time you touch
you feel a shoc-
no
that kind of love that
would make you feel
like a thunderstorm
bright and painful
yet a beautiful kind of pain
that you would willingly so
stand in the middle of a rain
i crave that kind of perfect love
that whenever you feel like
falling apart
you know someone will be there
waiting for you
to fall into their arms
and never let go
but who am i to talk about
love
when i can only
write, dream, and crave
that perfect love
i know nothing of

my aunt told me that the good thing about pain
is that you can remember it after it's gone,
but you can never recreate the feeling.
I think this is why I kept going back for more.

I'm in the middle
of crying
and trying.
Trying to be the girl
who makes herself happy without you,
the girl who can survive the whole day
without seeing you
and
the girl who can live her life to the fullest
without you.

But maybe it's true
that I should not just try,
instead I should do

I should do it
for myself
for my life
not for you
or anyone
but for me

Because after all
it's always gonna be my choice,
my life, and
my heart.