my roots are long as my branches
i tend to steer away from treehuggers
as i reach out into the night to hug someone back
it does not go as planned 
there's blood on my branches
i do not mean to hurt you.
such a devilish pretty tree.
leaves tainted with poison
roots that tells stories
there's something gone feral at the back of my mind
it screams and yells
i tape it shut and hang it from the tree
for i have vowed you don't belong here, but this is your home too.
my anger has lived here long before i knew it was hidden
what has lived here is the only part of me that has understood
the pain when others have wronged me
and as i try to trim and cut your branches
i try to tame you making sure you don't become wild
i starve and tape you shut when you become to loud
you bite everyone you want to be gentle too.
i don't know how to be a gentle as nature
i don't know how to be a gentle girl without leaving cracks in everything i touch
i cannot talk to you nicely without screaming or insulting
please do not cut me down
i'll be a good tree
my leaves will grow green without envy
my branches will learn to hug back
the wind doesn't even show up anymore
instead if you listen when everything goes quiet
you can here the roots screaming from underneath
do not listen too harshly
you may feel sorry
and your blood will drip from my branches
because who wouldn't want to give
a poison tree a hug

I don't want to die
I just need something to make me feel alive.

I pick at my skin
to the sounds of our memories
I pluck the hairs that stand up
when I hear your name
I tear myself down in the love
I have for you
There's a leash around my brain
I'm tired of yanking it away
from the thoughts of your eyes
that wont ever look at mine
there's a cage around my heart
wired with hope
(where is the key?)
and while I'm filled with so much affection
I look at myself as a joke
once a queen, now a blue fool
I apologize to myself for being so cruel
It is not your fault you are tangled
in another soul
but I still blame myself
for always watering a plant
I should have sold.

When someone asks what my biggest fear is
but I cannot tell them it’s me being 32 and still writing
about you
so I just tell them the “dark.”

I'll continue to use my words to light up the rest of the world.

As it does people's eyes when I speak.

Preach.

Talk.

Because emotions I find stronger than words,

Hold comfort behind the stiffness of the letters.

My words have no movement, my feelings linger on the pages.

But they do not waltz or cheer.

Yet yearn to escape me and the blank lined cage.

A minimal analysis
a set of conditions, withholding truth
that need to be satisfied in order to believe what you think is true.
belief that is knowledge.
the state of being aware of something within yourself.
psychology presents intuition as a form of knowledge
which we know as having a hunch about something
which is generated by the unconscious mind rapidly shifting through
past experiences.
cumulative knowledge.
my intuition never tells me what to do.
sometimes it's more like embarrassment
knowing that it's there and pretending like it's not.
because when you're always right
there's always that one time you hope that you're wrong.
so now my ego is linked to my emotions
and I can't help but find myself, not finding myself at all.
the disconnection between, myself and my thoughts
and my perception of the characteristics that shape me.
call it derealization if you want to get technical
but I see it as an imbalance.
if I do not see eye to eye with myself then I am not equal to the other side of the scale.
I will continue to fall until I satisfy those conditions
I lie further more to myself into this poem and reach what is self-awareness.
so I admit
I will continue to fall until I satisfy myself with the truth for these conditions.
or at least until I know what I feel is wrong.

There's no such thing as "love isn't real"
love is inevitable.
So as I ride the wave of resentment
and dip myself in the ocean of fluctuations
I still nurture my love for you

respecting your decision
disrespects
the affection in my heart
the affection that has already made its way through my bloodstream
giving me that sense of high

the love that has already infiltrated my lungs and stole my breath away
i do not wish to press charges.

Love is inevitable but heartbreak is a privilege and to grow from it is the gift.