I don't understand why I am so caught up
In wanting go be pretty
You can BUY pretty
It comes in pretty bottles
Scented cream-form
Sealable powder containers
And tube mixed with glitter
A beautiful soul
Cannot be bought
But a kind-of-ish guy friend
Told me I was pretty today
I think he was just being kind though
And I wouldn't be interested anyway
Then earlier today
Some random grade 2 kids
Yelled at me
As I was walking out the door:
You're hot
Great so five seven year old boys
Think I'm hot
I don't think that counts
In fact it probably means im extra ugly
'Cause you can't trust a grade 2's taste
But that's not my problem
My problem is
Beauty is aways
What girls are complimented on
When it is so common
It has a price tag.
What has our society descended to
When "pretty" is the goal

pull you close
grab my waist
rest my hands
on your face
kiss you slow
close embrace
lift me up
wearing lace
hands will drift
press and trace
melting with
the sweet taste
love on lips
time to waste
you and i
in this place

s.s

The poet lives two lives.
One on the outside,
And one in their mind.

When you look in their eyes
You could see an abyss.

If you looked long enough
You could sink into it.

But most people don’t see it.

Take the time to read the words, though,
And you would know for sure.

The poet lives in two different worlds.

Happiness dies
        Excitement dies
Love dies
              People die.
                                  .
                        ­               .
                                           .
                                   And we get over it,
But our hearts don't.
                                  And
                                      so
                                        our  
                  ­                            souls
                                                      die.