I am complex
A  heart torn apart but not broken
My kindness is my weakness
I always aim for change
I battle so much in my life
The tears burn my skin
I  dream of love in  a cold world
I am love or hate me but to love me is too see my soul
I am judged by many but many don't  see  the image which is me
I not from any other mold
i am coconut looking for  his tree
This is me a  nut shell stuck in this dream which is me

I wish I could change
The time will stop
I feel alone left in world no one understands me
I am me  this who I am
My heart bleeds I  keep going
The tears stain my skin
The hope is where the stars  shine
My cloudy day looking for my sun
I feel in moment  my heart becomes more cold
The warmth is of another
A  hand to hold as we walk
I am just complex heart looking for the warmth of another
The brick walls are there for reason

i am not everyone cup of tea love or hate me in end i am just me. The ones who miss out don't see the greatness which is me. But in end you are just blind by the image you want to see.

It's a bit Complex

I want to tell you
That you make me angry
So angry

I want to say
That night after night
I have cried because of you

I want to make you
Know the abandonment
You forced upon me

I want to scream
At you and slay
Slay, slay my demons

I wish you knew
That I want you to text me
So I know you care

But at the same time
I love you so so much
I want you to know that.

But yeah.
It's complex.

On the surface:
Porcelain skin,
lightly freckled face.
Long auburn hair.
Brown and green flecked eyes.
5'9, thick thighs, tight waist.
This is the girl you fell in love with.
The girl in front of you.
Just what you can see and feel and hold.
You did not fall in love with what is underlying.
Numb to most, angry with others.
Careful.. Never one to rush things.
A fan of perspectives.
An interest in different characteristics.
Curious about every little thing.
Inquisitive, kind.
A raging internalization of anger and frustration
and sadness.
Foundation ready to give out but she wont let it.
She patches up each new crack.
Lost her mind long ago
but never faltering her grip on reality.
It's tattooed on her.
She can't escape the harsh truths.
One being, people only see the surfaces.
Never digging even the slightest.
She's seen many lives lost before it was their time.
She's given up long ago.
Taught herself;
No one can be saved if they wont help themselves first.
Removed herself from
they who claw at the ankles
of people to be dragged down alongside them.
She holds her head up high when she feels herself sinking.
All alone, right beside you.
Always there when she's needed.
Never to have anyone hold her hand
or tell her she's strong.
She doesn't need to be told.
She knows that to survive what she has,
she must be anything but weak.
She will laugh in the face of the antagonist,
smile and ask how their day was, truly curious.
But you only see the surface.
She's just a pretty face.

~Christi Michaels~September 2014~

We are not symbiotic any more
I lay in our soft warm bed
I slumber to your snore
Our heart's and minds have drifted
To other continents shores

We walk in two dimensions
Though parallel they may seem
Find it so very difficult
Imaging the way we used to be

This is such a simple tale
Of love thats gone amiss.
The problem here
The difficult reality
Is what to do with This.


Copyright © 2015 Christi Michaels.
All Rights Reserved.

I once heard that there are
two kinds of love.
The first kind is the kind from
the movies,
the songs,
the Shakespearian sonnets,
the red-wine-induced conversations;
it is the
magnanimous
amorous
empowering love
that makes you lose your breath
and stumble across your words
until you fall so hard you
float back to the sky,
so emboldened you could
conquer the world in one fell swoop
and inspire hope in the most
hopeless.
The second kind
is the opposite of
empowering for it is
devouring,
cowering,
manipulative,
cold, and
a road paved with
adoring anguish as you
pour all of your bloated heart into
a desperate wish.

I've become exhausted by
door number two
and sit on the lip of
a hope and a prayer that
door number one opens for me
before I quit the
games(how).

10/27/14
say it once more, out loud, or as many times as you want:
"I did not think it would happen like this."
there are seven billion people on the earth right now, and that means about seven billion god complexes, each above my own.
there are things that aren't supposed to be said, and things that are crafted to be left behind. I always compared myself to one of the latter, but now I realize I am the suitcase. I am the hotel shampoo that you leave in your bag only to carry it to the next hotel.
those little bottles have seen a lot.
so have I -- well, enough to know that when people say "don't look down," they mean it. I compiled a list of the ways that I could have said goodbye, and then tore it up, letting the little pieces go one by one from my hand out your car window as it speeded down the thruway.
there are good lights and bad lights and lights in between -- warning lights. if there are no sirens, how can you tell the difference? red is not a color to mess around with. and please, whatever you do, please don't get it on the walls. people will get the wrong idea.