Poetry *****!
It shows my vulnerability!
It shows my compassion,  my understanding.

Poetry *****!
It let's others like you know I am human.
It shows you I'm sensitive,
And come with not only my arms, but also my defenses down.

Poetry *****!
Even at my weakest times,
Even while completely open.
My strengths shine through,
Showing my real side,
Darkness and light, that I just can't subside.

Listen you all,
Big or small,
To the words of a fellow human,
To whom my thoughts are only blooming,

With my eyes I see,
People smile with glee,
With my eyes I observe,
People who constantly live on nerve,

With my ears I listen to,
Some speak of affection that grew,
With my ears I hear,
Words that make me shead a tear,

With my nose I find the scent,
Of every love letter I've sent,
With my nose I smell,
The odors of hell,

With my tongue I speak,
Of all the good times that happened this week,
With my tongue I talk,
Of things that I mock,

With my hands I touch,
Everything that I like so much,
With my hands I feel,
All the pain I can't heal,  

On being human,
It's living,
As a breathing,
Contradiction.

I'm am  very contradictory

I Am a beautiful disaster
I am gasless smoke
I am an ice fire
I am lovingly hateful
I am aggressively playful

I am kknowledgeable confusion.
..it's best at its worst

I loved him carefully; from afar I liked to watch him grow into the man I knew today.
I loved him carefully; I watched his moods making sure the outrage stayed as far away from me as I could.
I loved him easily... It wasn't hard when his green eyes watched your every move and his lips held pretty words that danced through my ears.

But he loved me recklessly; he came at me with full speed ahead on marriage and lack of trust.
He loved me dangerously; so much that became afraid to love me at all for fear I would be his all.

I loved him carefully and it was too easy to fall apart when he walked away.
He loved me recklessly and it had become to dangerous for him to keep me around.

You tell me how quiet I am,
and how I should talk more
But when I open my mouth to speak all you hear is a muffled voice
Trying to formulate a sentence while being suffocated by you
My voice is like background noise to you
You don't care about what I have to say
Everything I say is irrelevant news to you
But yet you tell me how quiet I am,
and how I should talk more

I feel like I don't belong here.
I can't place it--
Maybe too pure,
Maybe too evil,
Maybe too ill.
Its hard to say
When every word flung
Wildly around is a
Contradiction.
Too sensitive,
Too changeable.
The balance causes so
Much cognitive dissonance,
And the more I approach my heart,
The more it alludes me on the horizon.
Colorless,
These words ignite a
Flame
Stronger than any pigment.
I am worthless.
I am a treasure.
I am worthy.
I am pitiful.
I am beautiful.
I am a fool.
I am genius.
I am every word they say to me,
Yet I feel like
I am none.
Their icy words spoken with
Frozen hearts
Set my teeth chattering.

Nothing can protect me from this
Impeding cold.
The energy is inexhaustible.
Their ranks are numberless.
The fight goes on,
Teaching me the person I am
Is ought not to be.
Destroy the anguish
Mistaken as beauty.
They take my heart from me--
Brutally beating the bruises,
Formulaically tearing the
Gashes open with silver knives,
A gray harder than the
Silver of the moon--
Harder than the silver of my heart.
I am bruised,
Broken,
Wanting to be gone.
And they laugh at my pain.
They don't believe me when I say
I have nothing to live for.
All I need to do is to
Live up to the low bar they set,
But that's never good enough.
The words bleed out of me,
Yet they remain unsaid.
They would taunt more
If they knew their wickedness.
Sleep saves me from this endless cycle of
Torture.
Engulfed by
Vivid of imaginations of who I am,
I forget for a time
What they told me.
Meet me in this innocent state of existence,
Escaped from the pain.
I wish I knew how to
Avoid their toxic remedies
And the poisonous reminders
That they own me,
And will decide who I am.

But poets tend to exaggerate:
Tell me how it really is.

Contradiction that is my soul name,
strong but weak,
good but bad,
can be controlled but out of control,
happy but depressed,

LOST but LOST.

Condotti, Setting in a street named after someone mysterious in this century, or what more no one cares, filled with history, cared by the worst and the best hidden stories, those streets are filled with voices of the past mixed with noises of the future, siting here in the steps of *Condotti staring at the people that about to become from the past, at the people that will be the study of the most mysterious and un-logic humanity, even me i'll be one of those lost voices that been lost in the streets of Condotti.