this is because i am...
I am a artist
I am a poet
I am a cutter
I am a starver
I am a mess of scars
And broken pieces
But the problem is
I am me
When I look in the mirror
All I see is a mistake
A little mess
Of pain And starving
And the scars all along my body
A problem
A smudge on humanity
But that's who I am
I guess I have to accept that

There was a garden full of butterflies
They we're buzzing around
From flower to flower
It seemed everything was fine

But one butterfly didn't had a nice parental house
The parents often didn't say nice things to it
"You are Not good enough"
But also didn't do other nice stuff

In the school the Others laught about it
And started calling it names
The teachers only looked away
Also when it Changed her colors to Grey

The butterfly tried to be perfect
And wanted at least controll one thing
It wanted to controll it's body
So it lost a bit to much weight

While the others ate and ate
It sat in front of it's full plate
And in her head it praid
"Sorry for not beeing perfect"

The body started to shiver
'Cause it felt cold
Even when the sun was shining
That put it a nother crises

The butterfly's body started to change
It started to get problems with it's skin
But also with it wings
In it body everything started to sting

The day came where it was having a nap
A storm came up
And took the butterfly with it
And it was never seen again

Ana,

I've known you for a while,
And at first I was afraid.
I didn't know what you'd do
Or whether you could help me.

Now I don't see why
Everyone I know is so
Pressed about me
Being friends with you...

I don't know why
they don't like you.
They try to keep me away
From you and your help.

You're a kind person,
And you've helped me.
You make me happy.
You fix my problems.

I hope you can explain
Why people don't like you.

How she moved so carelessly
when touched by the evening breeze
she sparkled like the light ***** in the night sky
however, I heard the anguish in her laugh
she consistently kissed me like it was her last kiss
danced as if it was her last dace
lived as if it was her last night
fascinated by everything
but I was only fascinated by her
how tiny her fingers were around her cigarette
how her bones looked like
they were about to leave her body
I never understood
But as she took off
Her bones became stardust
longing to get home
now I understand
that she never was supposed to be here with me
god had other plans for my angel