Liquid courage to numb the pain.
Intoxicated to forget.
Offbeat blood, sent from heart to vein.
Returns with a guest, she just met.


She closes up, leaves the bar clean.
To her apartment, around three.
In bed she lays, counting some sheep,
That mock her, thinking she will sleep.
She hears the crickets’ lonely beat.
Reminding her of creeps she meets.
Sometimes they have a potential start.
But never truly go that far.


Each night dealt with some other cards.
But slowly starts to build up guard.
She puts less time in her makeup.
But drunks continue to pick up.
She joins in shots, hopes to pass out.
But in her head she hears the shouts.
Her heart’s hunger for real love.
Her clouded thoughts rise above.


A newly turned insomniac.
No longer sleeping on her back.
Till curtains peek with starry eyes.
So bright, leaves a forceful rise.
Her sobs like strings of violin.
A void no liquor can fill in.
Despite how much she tries to drown.
The aches resonate with shrill sounds.


Another night, still found no one.
A man enters, two drinks and done.
She questions him, “What is the rush?”
Always pulled into a quick crush.
But never really tends to last.
As he mumbles about his past.
A bartender, like therapist.
As alcohol reveals the gist.


Now drunk and loud, he starts to shout.
Before his crash, he raises doubt.
He talks about, the best he lost.
Always at home, waits for the toss.
She cheers him up, when in a rut.
He gets up again, “That **** mutt!
To see her hurt, curled up in bed.
I held her paw, up till her death.”


The next night, slept pretty early.
He was perfect, brown hair curly.
Her eyes were lost, but not with lust.
Enjoyed his smells, delicious must.
A piece of her, became a part.
Happy to save his sinking heart.
Rescued him, he slept on her rug.
Named Milo, her three-legged dog.

She looks at him with loving eyes he seems to never see,
He looks at someone else with the utmost passion, but she can never let him be.
Behind her is someone that can show her truth, can make her happy, make sure her smile shines,
But she never seems to notice him, she can never read between the lines.
It's sad how even he doesn't notice the girl waiting for him in the back,
It breaks my heart knowing they only see the world in white and black.
Open your eyes to all the possibilities,
Ignorance is never bliss.
Fight for what you want, or come here, listen to this:
Turn around and look at them.
This is someone you don't want to dismiss.
If you're too afraid of going after what you want, you don't deserve it.
Get up and try, or else you will never receive, if that person is so special stop obsessing and believe.
This endless cycle must come to an end,
This endless cycle, so crazy I can't comprehend
This endless cycle, something that pains me to have to write of,
This endless cycle, widely known as the case of wasted love.

There are two types of the word "crush-able". The first is the type that people would easily have a crush on. They got it all: the looks, intelligence, talent, humor, everything. It's hard to not fall for them the minute you lay eyes on them. You're attracted to them like a magnet. The second is the type that's easily crushed. Constantly getting hurt by the people around them, especially the ones they like or admire. They've gone through it all: getting rejected, ignored, pushed aside, not even second best, just..not a choice. Again and again and again. No surprise, I'm the latter.

I'm not the type of girl that people would crush on. I'm always the good friend. That's okay. I'll accept that. But it's always until there. That's the farthest I'll ever go with anyone. No matter how close we are, no matter how much we click; I've never been the special kind of person that they want to take to the next level. Maybe just foolishly flirting here and there, but they never take me seriously. No, I'm just their best friend.

The one who picks up the pieces when no one does, the one who sits quietly by your side when you're crying, the one who listens when you go on and on about this fantastic person you're drooling over, the one who eats with you when you don't feel like being in a large crowd cause you don't think you look your best but being with me is okay cause "Hey, you're my buddy. It's alright." Yeah I'm that girl. Always there for you, covering up your lies, tell you what's the homework you missed when you skipped class, getting text after text of "Can you do me a favor?.. Great, I owe you one. You're the best!"

It seems like I'm cursed to be everyone's friend. Again, it's not a bad thing. I just wish, for once, I'm the first type of crush-able. I wish someone would look at me like I put the stars in the sky and I make the waves crash on the sand. That I invented beauty with brains. I just wish someone would think highly of me the way I keep thinking of the people in my life. Of loving me the way I've loved my crushes before. And doing so sincerely. Not because I keep complaining, but because they genuinely love me for me.

-m.b

i did the best i could,
for who i was,
at the time.

01:52 am
have you ever asked yourself like why you so lonely?*

01:53 am
or empty?

that maybe you give too much of your essence to people and never leave any of you for yourself

01:55 am
i know i do

02:05 am
and like that's maybe why i get so attached to humans

because in them,
i find myself

02:07 am
i need to change, because things shouldn't be this way

02:10 am
but it's hard sometimes you know, when most days you don't leave the house because you feel unworthy of the space you take up

02:16 am
so you'd much rather disintegrate into soil because you've become all too familiar with people stepping over you and admiring the outcome of your beauty but never the roots of your pain

02:19 am
i spend so much effort watering people in order for them to grow and hardly get enough sun shine to feed my own soul

02:25 am*
because i don't know how to do anything else but care for everyone but myself