gazing at this man
i notice
behind his eyes
you can see
the way he loves is almost like wind and rain.

it is soft and gentle,
pure and fearless,
passionate but innocent.

as he looks up
gaze meeting mine
i hope
his wind and rain
longs for my earth and fire.

Did she end it?
As I'm thinking,
a weight
of night
slips into me.

I don't know
where I stand,
exactly, but
at least
I don't leave

wanting to drink
this old grief
in gulps that
leave no room
for air,

like those
other times.
No one answers
my texts.
What did

those words mean?
The driver
talks on
about the night,
but has no idea

that I'm in
his backseat
eating the night
and dying.
Yes I know

I'm difficult,
is that what
happened?
Is that
what happened?

I’m less of a woman because I’m fat
I’m treated like one of the guys
No doors were held for me everyday
And most of the time, I’m fine with that

No gentleman was ever gentle to me
No girl was ever a friend to me
All these empty spaces they left me
I decided to put doubt and insecurities in

They say it’s okay
They say love yourself in a way
That itself should be enough for the light of day
But they don’t know how it is for me each day

I just want to feel loved and wanted
I just want to feel important and painted
I’m tired of being black and white
All I need is a little color on my sky

I’m less of a person because I’m scarred
I’m less of a human because I’m “ugly”
That’s what they said to me
I’m less of a woman because I’m fat

Of all the flowers, I relate most to the rose
Because everyone who touches her bleeds.
I always thought that it was nature’s way of evening things out
Even the most beautiful creations must have their flaws
And so roses have their thorns,
They hurt everything they touch,
And that is life.

I realize now that the thorns are there to protect the rose
Because leaving something so delicate without defenses
Must be a sin.
And just like a rose, I am soft,
And my thorns wouldn’t hurt everyone around me
If they didn’t handle me so carelessly.
If they were gentle, and kind, and not constantly trying
To take a cutting for their own,
I would not have to defend myself.
It is not my fault that people cut themselves on my broken pieces:
It is their fault for being careless.

you are so great to me
you are my sanctuary

lost in your arms, there is no place I'd rather be