The ones who walk away
Are the ones who don’t care,
They can’t be bothered to do so.

The ones who walk away
Understand pain and suffering,
They can’t see it happen again.

The ones who walk away
Are filled with regret and hate,
For they to have been thrown away.

The ones who walk away,
With tears down their face,
Leaving everything they love behind.

The ones who walk away
Found a purpose to move on,
They can’t let it slip away.

The ones who walk away
Are strong with their head held high,
As they don’t need to beg for love.

The ones who walk away
Have given up trying,
No longer able to tolerate it anymore.

The ones who walk away
Realized what others didn’t,
And set themselves free.

The ones who walk away
Fast and quick,
Never planned on staying.

I am one who walks away,
You are one who walks away,
We are the ones who walk away.

They are the ones that stay behind,
Watching us as we leave,
For they forgot that to make us stay
They need to chase after us.

I tend to fall for beautiful destruction.

The ones who will dedicate my favorite love song to me
So when they leave I can't hear it without thinking of them.

The ones who will call late at night
and talk about nothing
Till i drift to asleep
So i cant rest until i hear their voice wish me goodnight.

The ones who will designate an "Our thing"
So whenever I watch "Our Movie"
Or "Our Show"
I'll remember watching it with them
and have to turn it off.

The ones who give me one nickname
So no one can call me "Darling"
without it feeling wrong.

The ones who will make inside jokes
The ones only we know
So whenever someone mentions a small thing
Like soda pop or trailer trash
a small smile will cross my lips
as I remember them.

I tend to fall for someone who takes over the small things in my life
leaving their name all over them
So when they leave
the small things leave too
leaving a whole in my life
as the things that once brought me joy
Will only bring me to tears.

I fall for the ones my mom wouldn't warn me about.

I fall for the ones who make themselves unforgettable.

I fall for the ones who seem to care.

The ones who will spam my inbox
just to get my attention
when they know i feel lonely

The ones who will call
when I'm crying
Just so they can try to cheer me up.

The ones who will say They're proud of me
when I do what to some may be small
but to me is spectacular.

The ones who will listen to my deepest thoughts
Then tell the theirs.

I fall for those who never intend to stay.

I fall for those who will only hurt me.

The ones who when we're together make me feel like heaven.
But when they inevitably leave
Will destroy me.

I tend to fall for Beautiful Destruction.

Here’s to the ones who opened my mind to various other world that existed. Here’s to the ones who’s deep conversation enriched my mind, soul and heart. Here’s to the ones who kept me sane. Here’s to the ones who did constant grammar checks. Here’s to the ones who accepted my insanity, weirdness and quirkiness and stayed. Here’s to the ones that offered their ear to listen and hand to hold. Here’s to the ones who loved me the days I didn’t love myself. Here’s to the ones who believed in me the days I didn’t believe in myself. Here’s to the ones who would check up on me, just to see how am I doing. Here’s to the ones who sparkled my day with their random acts of kindness. Here’s to the ones who made me laugh a ton at their lamest of jokes. Here’s to the ones who built houses in my heart and kept it warm. Here’s to the ones who made my dark days bearable and this year extra special by being themselves.

I am a mother,
Though my womb has born no child.
The ones I help,
The helpless ones,
Are the children of my soul.

I am a mother,
Though my womb has born no child.
The ones I teach,
The seeking ones,
Are the children of my soul.

I am a mother,
Though my womb has born no child.
The ones I heal,
The sickly ones,
Are the children of my soul.

I am a mother,
Though my womb has born no child.
The ones I feed,
The hungry ones,
Are the children of my soul.

I am a mother,
Though my womb has born no child.
The ones I free,
The hopeful ones,
Are the children of my soul.

I am a mother,
Though my womb has born no child.
The ones I bless,
The hurting ones,
Are the children of my soul.

I am a mother,
Though my womb has born no child.
The ones I comfort,
The fearful ones,
Are the children of my soul.

And maybe we are all a little broken but that's okay because I know some people throw out their old broken things but others notice that they are broken and love them even more because they see the imperfections as beautiful. And there are others who look down at tiny little shattered pieces and get the glue and magnifying glass and get a table out they haven't seen in years and put all the pieces on it. And they sit down for hours and days putting it back together knowing that it will never be what everyone else sees as perfect again but it will be together and damaged but it will be loved. Because the first time it was created it was instantly whole and someone else thought it was good enough. But a lot of things are just good enough. Every single Hershey's kiss looks the same except for the ones labeled as mistakes. Those are less likely to occur. But if they turned out this way normally than we would consider our current norm abnormal. So then the normal would be abnormal and the abnormal would be normal. It's all perspective. So the guy who spent all that time fixing you thinks you're absurdly and absolutely perfect. Because he saw the broken bits that were your original as even better than the whole you started as. Some people just get a few cracks in shipping and some people want the discounted price. But you gotta find the ones who see scars as beauty marks. That's what it's all about. Perspective. We are like this because we aren't like everybody else. We have the abnormal make. We are the 3 am word fighters and the night riders. We are all the bad and the good and we speak in bittersweet tongues. Nobody can fix us because we aren't broken. We are disassembled and can build ourselves. We don't need anyone else's tool chest because we have one right below our rib cage. Our lungs are practically indestructible because they know just how sacred air can be. We are the strong because we've cried ourselves to sleep and thought that was normal. We are the ones who were told they were doing it wrong the first time they cut but were strong enough to realize that they were wrong and there is no right way to destroy yourself. We are the future. We are the pain. We are the daydreamers who know how brilliant the sky looks at 4:27 am east coast time in Atlanta. And just because we've thrown up in too many bathrooms and told too many family members we ate before we got there, that sure as hell doesn't mean we aren't craving life and have had too many heartaches for breakfast. We are the ones who rolled over in bed and realized that the boy was gone and that we would have to hug ourselves. My shoulders are strong from carrying the weight of the world. Our eyes think that floods are normal because that's all they have seen. I have lived my life walking along the train tracks trying to find a way to get home. All I have gotten is calluses on my feet and strangers dreams in my heart. We keep them there. We carry the letters of the broken hearted and deliver them to the lost. As we saved others we lost ourselves. And then we look up and see the stars and realize that there's this whole galaxy that we are. We are everyone's broken promises and expired wishes. We carry the spirits of the deceased and the never born. We hold on to the spirits of the people who changed. I've cried myself to sleep too many **** nights for one person so I know I am the embodied spirit of everyone who's never had a voice and everyone who has needed one. We are the ones who were pushed against a wall and didn't say no because we thought that was the only love we may ever get and didn't realize just how twisted it was to trust a boy who treated you like trash and to think his kisses were your anti depressants when they were your poison.  But then we wake up and push him off and say, "Boy, I don't need you. You were nothing but heartache and pain. You see these scars? Don't tell me to stop until you are there to take away the ******* blade. Do not tell me suicide is a joke because every single part of me has thought it was a blessing at one time or another. Do not ever touch me until the day you will not be repulsed by the blood or *****. Do not tell me you are not in to scars because that is all you have left on both my body and my heart."And we are the sad nights where the boy you just fell in love with leaves on a plane to go home to California. We are the tropical islands where we met the loves of our lives. I am the tears I shed on the balcony in the Bahamas the night I got so scared I may never see you again. I am the song I sang out to the tropical storm winds that night where I repeated, "love is not a victory march, it's a cold and it's a broken hallelujah." I am the same girl who pushed the tears off her cheeks after letting their significance sink in and put on her makeup to go out and fake a few smiles. We are the ones who take care of the drunk girl we just met even though the boy we love just left. We are the ones who love our fathers even though they’ve broken more than a few bones in their lifetime. We are the ones who have treasure chest souls where children hide their keepsakes so that in twenty five years they can tell the story of their discovery to a 6 year old little girl with huge green eyes. We are the freckles on the lonely girls shoulder that made a beautiful boy fall in love with her; yet she wishes she could erase them. And we are the long distance phone calls between broken lovers that last 1 hour and 6 minutes and deliver lost hopes and shattered promises. We are the weddings that unite two people who thought about stepping in front of buses just 8 years before. We are the ones who cried on bathroom floors thinking it was our fault but stopped when we thought someone would hear. We are those who never want to be seen as weak because we don't want anyone to figure out that we can't always hold it all together. We are the ones who are bones and flesh and have died because their souls and bodies were robbed of nutrients. We are the ones who bled out on the carpet and weren't found for days. We are the student deaths that never made the announcement and never got a commemorative tree. There is nothing beautiful about sadness. But there is something beautiful about watching destruction save itself. There's something beautiful about terrible moments that turn gorgeous. We are the thorns that were trimmed back too soon because no one ever realized we were a rose. And we were never broken. We just needed to be too many heroes at once. So sometimes we get stretched too thin because our souls are too wide. Because there are a lot of broken promises and heart breaks and love affairs and sad minds and beautiful days and long nights that we must embody. We are the ones who would never change being all those things because we like having an ever changing soul. We are the ones who must fight to live even though we have patchwork hearts and memories that are in love with romanticizing the past. We must fight because when we die, others die with us. All the things we have carried and delivered turn to ash and lay beside us in a velvet and oak box for the rest of eternity on the day we are lowered in to the ground. But in reality we know that things will get better because the grandmothers dreams of an education located in our left knee cap on the right hand side tell us to never give up. So that's what we do. We listen to the demons in our souls and the angels that also pay rent. But we carry all our memories even when they jab us in the ribs and make us believe that we will never breathe again. But we are breathing. We are living and the daughter we are yet to have needs us to tell her about the world. Because I pray she has a soul like mine so that I may show her that the world is both bitter and sweet but that every single thing looks better after thinking you'd seen the most beautiful thing in the world. So we keep these bodies and live our lives so that we may realize that there are many more parts of us that magnifying glasses don't show and pounds can't measure.  And we hold on for everyone but must learn to hold the firmest grip for ourselves. Because I will always love that boy who left the island with the crystal clear water and I will never forget the girl who told me I didn't destroy myself in the right way. And I am okay with that. I am okay with carrying these things. I am used to the weight of noth the beautiful and the terrible. And although it makes me feel empty at times, I realize that it is only because my ever hungry soul is still craving even more life.

I want what you have
I want your dreams; the ones that scare you shitless
I want your secrets; the ones you can’t share with anyone
I want the thoughts that keep you awake at night; the ones that excite you
I want the ideas you want to share; the ones you know you never will share

I need what you have
I need your arms around my waist; the arms that will never be there
I need your lips pressed against mine; the lips that mine will never touch
I need your ***** smile smiling at me; the smile that will never look in my direction
I need your stupid ugly khaki jacket around my shoulders; the jacket that will never be near me

I wish that I have what you have
I wish I had your idiotic confidence; the confidence that I will never get back
I wish I had your insanely smart brain; the brain that has put up barriers against me
I wish I had your annoyingly inappropriate jokes; the jokes that you stopped telling me
I wish I had your ability to captivate the world; the captivation you no longer use on me

I yearn for what we could have been
I yearn to have an unconditional love; one that will never break
I yearn to have uncontrollable kisses; ones that we are unable to stop
I yearn to have cheesy promposals; ones that make everyone jealous of us
I yearn for extravagant valentine's day gifts; ones that make me want to scream and cry

You don't want what I have
My dreams; the ones that will never happen
My secrets; the ones that will tear people apart
My thoughts that keep me up at night; the ones that can even terrify me
My ideas that I want to share; the ones that would wreak havoc on everyone

You don’t need what I have
My thick messy hair; the hair that constantly falls in my face
My ***** brown converse; the ones with the laces falling apart
My empty grey eyes; the eyes that stare straight at you watching you ignore me
My annoying voice; the voice that says ****** comments to protect herself from your friends

You don’t wish to have what I have
My brutal honesty; the honesty that burns bridges
My crazy distrust; the distrust that worries my mother
My unbelievable pessimism; the pessimism that causes people to leave
My need to control everyone; the need to control that consumes all of my thoughts

You don’t yearn for what we could have been
You don’t yearn for unconditional love; not with me
You don’t yearn for uncontrollable kisses; but with her
You don’t yearn to give cheesy promposals; you would do anything to be with her
You don’t yearn to give extravagant valentine's day gifts; you would give anything to be with her

No matter how much I want...need...wish...yearn for you
You will always be wanting, needing, wishing, and yearning for her more
She is the pulsing red dot you are moving towards
I am barely more than a blip on your radar.

If you’re happy,
then you're the lucky ones.

If you don’t think of death day after day,
then you're the lucky ones.

If you have someone that loves you back,
then you're the lucky ones.

If you can feel your heartbeat inside your chest,
then you're the lucky ones.

Because the rest of us,
we’re dead inside.

We’re the sad ones
and the lonely ones.

We're the ones
that cry ourselves to sleep at night.

We're the ones
that dread life day after day.

We're the ones that watch you,
jealous that you're not us.


                                    j.z.

smile please
the end of the world will be equally shared.
with everyone

with the loved ones who kiss you daily
in a thought they are not carried anymore
with the bad ones
who fill your heart with stones
used to be thrown in the loved ones
with the indifferent ones
as indifferent as the pavement you step on daily
with the ones who walk with their head up high
dragging their soul through the grass

with the handsome ones
whom you’d love to get close for a second
whom you’d burn for an eternity
the ones you left your shield down for
and the sword you got stabbed with
killed and risen for nothing
with the ones that write your name in the sand
or in stone
the ones with lips of a child
and words of an elderly
with the ones hungry for peace
and afraid of loneliness

with the clever, the stupid and the calm
the powerful and the weak
with teeth or without
happy and unhappy
with the ones who lose to win
gullible, innocent, impossible
with the ones who loved and forgot

smile please
to the ones who tell you that
the end of the world will be equally shared.
with everyone

Ive got frilly ones
lily ones
  and downright silly ones

Holey ones
moley ones
  and cheeky holy moley ones

Pink ones, blue ones
and not to
  misconstrue ones

Purple ones
white ones
  and some to give a fright ones

Red ones
in bed ones
  and some on my head ones! (don't ask!)

After a few quick flickers
i counted 35 pairs of knickers
  (some have still got their stickers)

And why are they called a pair?
when there is only one knicker there
  it's not like socks.....

by Jemia