Remember when, he
Called me on that rooftop night,
Just checking, to make sure
I got in—pulled me in for half a hug.
Joined me for a dance,
Thought about the time he
Told me that I’m so fun.
One last night out,
Young and free, before
Careers kick in and reality sets in.
It ended before I knew it,
On the car ride home,
Thinking about what coulda been,
He tells me he’s crying,
Begging me to stay—but
Saying yes is not an option.
Remembering when I found out,
He was reading the book I had,
Or felt he that fire in chest,
About our political crisis,
in a way like me,
In a way I hadn’t seen yet.
Spending so long settled in
The idea of a man lesser than &
Surprised to find the joy
In expanding my horizons,
Learning about my self imposed limits,
Watching them crumble in,
Realizing I am capable of
Every bit of the life I wanna live.
Found solace in the similar ways we think,
A sketchbook of drawings,
Connecting each & every limb,
Far far away
from spaced repetition.
Death by a thousand cuts
Ambition, something else
That I didn’t think I was looking for.
You took me by surprise,
Chelsea boots in that kitchen,
Didn’t ask me where i was from.
Between the bridges and lights,
Guitar riffs playing in the back
You grabbed my hand,
Spun me round, drink in another.
Kinda hated the smell of your breath,
The way you patted me on the head.
When you begged me to stay,
Under the night sky, every sway.

broken boys
with missing hearts
are like broken toys
with missing parts
the lost fights
and lost nights
small mistakes
turn into highlights
their sorry eyes
filled with tears
but they never cry
they struggle
just to keep it all inside

I thought my heart was dead.
That I couldn’t feel affection for anyone,
not after everything he had done to me.

But then you came into my life,
so suddenly, I couldn’t see it coming.
I didn’t expect to like you.

I told myself I wouldn’t, or couldn’t, care for you.
You aren’t mine.
I don’t even know if you’re interested.

But thank you for reviving a part of myself
I thought I’d never see again.
Even if this is only a crush,

I’m glad my first was on you.

Do you get me?

No shame, you know.
Just small self doubt
a violent chin
and contention for identity
for happiness
for unafraid space
with a smile and Stanley.

Do you get me?

I've try my **** hardest to feel loved, accepted.

I lead people to fall in love, and leave them because I can. Even though I promised them different.

I complain about boys, but the boys aren't the problem it's me. I'm the one who makes these problems for myself because it's easier to push everyone away and deal with those consequences as they come, rather than to accept my forever fate. I say it's because I'm young, I can't find the one. I know all the right things to say, so they'll stick around, even after i've left them in the dust too many times, but I do know not to say love. It confuses them, and me.

I know love isn't in my heart, never has. Heartbreak started before I was born. When my father didn't want me, my mother couldn't have truly wanted me, after all she was 16, everyone around me was burdened by me before I even opened my eyes.

I hear it a lot, "you look, remind me of your mother" "You remind me so much of myself" "My mini me" You have the same issues, depression, bipolar, trust issues, and failure to commit, it's pretty insignificant, but it's lurking there, in my head. Scratch that it all races through my veins, and I'm surrounded by it, as everyone I know is infected by it too.

It commitment even real? As far as I know, it's something I couldn't even imagine. I have these people trying to get at me, claiming, "Let it be just me and you baby" but every time I fall for those lies, I can't help to start chasing a different one, more and more.

Picking up that bottle seems like second nature. Along with my issues, I was blessed with addiction, that's racing through my veins more than commitment isn't. I'm told not to let it get out of hand, after all I've seen what it does to people. But I can't help but find myself longing for the next time I can feel the warmth of that liquid as it slides down my throat. Longing for the next time I can place that skinny piece of paper between my fingers, lighting it as the smoke slithers down to find my lungs, inhaling to insure it's doing it's job, then exhaling to see the smoke dance around the air that's consuming me. Longing for the next time I can feel happiness. Longing for the next time I can punch something to release my anger, because we all know I can't do it creatively.

Questions queuing up in my mind
everytime I see you smile cause
my words are indescribable
when you look at me and I really think
that you should be mine.

I refuse to continue writing poems about boys who didn't love me back.
I painted them in beautiful colors
Wrote their names in the stars
And spoke them into eternity.
But they were only fleeting shadows
An untouchable mist
Trying to fill me with empty words
And broken promises.
I will no longer bathe these boys with beauty
They don't deserve my pretty words
And beautiful promises.
I will no longer speak these boys into the brightest stars
And paint them in glorious light.
They are merely shadows
Hiding in a dark alley
Refusing to show their faces
Only shouting empty words into the void
Trying to catch a pretty girl off guard.
Maybe one day a boy will deserve such words.
But for now, I will be saving my beautiful words
For beautiful people.