There's a few days
When
I don't think
About you

Those amount to
A total of two
And one of
Those days
I slept
Through

The other
I was too
High to see
And

Too concentrated
On breathing
To feel
The expanse
Of my heart
Breaking


What does this mean to you?

More than something

But not enough to make it all go away...

dear media;
my body is art.
**** your opinion and your ideals on what I should be
because I am living, breathing art.

my face shows young beauty,
inspiration and awe found in my eyes
and just beneath the pupil, a shimmer of excitement.

my lips have said so much, they seem to be so ripe with the words they speak,
they send daggers
yet stay plump and baby pink.

and what about my arms? they have endured so much,
every cut, bruise, and punch for a lonely night or the feeling of not being good enough.
they allow me to write my words;
hold those up plagued with the feeling of being alone
my arms, they are strong.

my stomach is like a mountain and
next time I'm in bed the man I'm with will understand as he
runs his fingers between every space of each rib and kisses my stomach,
down to my inner thighs and back up again.

and my thighs, still fresh and wild
dangle and jump at the mere sight of adventure
wrap around a mans waist to make him feel better and
kiss him on the cheek with the lips I spoke of before.

my brain will hold and absorb galaxies,
an endless universe unfolding before me and
i will take in each bit and dream of it at night because;

i am ambitious, diligent, strong and talented,
and yet I can still be
soft and caressed and fragile but,
media, society, never mistake my kindness for weakness because
i will take the food you feed me and spit it right out because
my body and mind is worth much more.

dear media;
my body is art,
and you will not be the artist.

conceptcollection

lately, everything's been about you.
i'd see "closed" signs on antique shop windows
and eviction notices on apartment doors
and remember how it felt when you slammed the door on every possibility of us.
i'd see pens and papers and stop myself in the bookstore from throwing them on the ground and screaming "i used to be the one you write about". now i just find spare ones in my room that i can cry onto when no one's around. the ink seeps through my fingertips as i break the plastic case of every pen i lay my hands on and it's supposed to make me feel better but it doesn't. it just reminds me of the ink you injected in my veins and no matter how deep i cut i can't get it the **** out.

you grew something inside of me and i swear they're not flowers because they've been flourishing when i water them with *****.

i'd stare at streetlights and remember that one time you told me you'd  kiss me under every single one of them but here i am brushing my teeth so hard it bleeds every night because the only time i taste your lips now is when i'm dreaming.

and now here i am trying in vain to paint the sunset with the color of your eyes. i didn't want to forget how they lit up when you said "i love you" but maybe it was just a reflection of how bright mine were when you finally said those three words.

well, to be fair, you only told me you loved me. i guess it's my fault i assumed it meant you'd never leave.

I'm too tired to pretend
That I'm happy once again
It's been so long
I don't know what went wrong
You left me that day
I'll never forget
I couldn't believe it
I hid in my bed
For days and weeks
Which turned into months
I don't know how to go on
Knowing you're not coming back
I'll stay in bed
With a drink and some crack
I look at your picture
I still want you back
But like a magician
You just disappeared
Was I just dreaming, did you ever exist
It's been so long, my head is filled with purple mist
Hopeless

If you read these words and they are my last
please remember all the poems, that have come to pass
remember each smile, each tear and each word
and even remember the ones you heard
what a way to end it all
what a way for the mighty to fall.
Goodbye dear poetry, goodbye my life
and most importantly goodbye strife.

"Always become the one being hurt
Rather than ever hurting another"
Words I have strived to live by
The philosophy left by my mother

I've always tried to live my life
Standing up for what is right
Helping others no matter the cost
Being everyone's shining knight

What a horrible way to live

Even when I was on the verge of breaking
Even when the burden seemed too large
I always took it onto myself
And it was always free of charge

They all need to pay

But lately there is this voice
Echoing from the back of my mind
That is always fighting to take over
It wants to punish the unkind

Maybe I don't want to forgive

Tell me who is that inside me
Those thoughts can't be my own
Even when there's no one around
Somehow I am not alone

Just let me come out and play

I'm trying to keep it at bay
Am I past the point of no return?
I JUST WANT THE VOICE TO GO AWAY
But.... *Now....it's my turn