a rose?
well that is something that i am not.
i am not admired by many
and adored by even more.
people do not gravitate towards me
because of my cliche aspect of beauty.
one does not view me as one of the most
d i v e r s e
signs of
beauty
love
or even grace.
both striking and beautiful,
she has many thorns and ******
that can cut you
and make you bleed.

me?
instead of all that,
i am a leaf.
ordinary, that i am.
and very much overlooked.
often ignored and underestimated.
your eyes do not adhere to my exclusive version
of beauty.
i can't hurt you,
or at least not as much.
i am not made up of thorns
that could easily nip you
and your fragile skin.
and even tho she,
rose,
has many ****** and thorns
that has ample enough chances to cut you,
you still choose it over me.

Out on the breakers
Eyes in the sea are watching me
But seals never speak

The sea birds are gulling
Always they argue over shells
I know how they feel

Long across the heath
The piebald mountains cradle me
But snows, they only whisper

The stationary stone village
Is thatched in chalk and grey wood
Happy in branch without trees

As I stare out my window
I look over the edge
I whisper to myself
I'm already dead

i think the world is starting to wake
up
it's 5:37,
the cars are riding pass me
more and more as the minutes
tick by
i'm halfway through my last pack
and i'm ******* broke
my mind is a mess and i really
haven't slept in days
my parents think everything is
alright
but they don't really know what
happens when it's ******* late at
night

Here I set in my room
Realizing the longer I hold on the worse it's all becoming
My heart is heavy, no one wants to love the broken
After all what's broken should just be thrown away
No one for days as spoken to me, it's easier to not think of me and all of my issues
My spirt has turned to stone it will never fly again
I'm so ******* alone I don't want to live this way
I thought by now my tears would dry up but they don't
They just keep on falling
I've not been held in years and now I think I'd cring if someone touched me
My skin is not used to that kind of thing any more
But desperately longs for it
I care about everyone I meet, but the feelings never returned
Why the **** am I still here
Just for people to use I guess
I'm done I'm thru I just don't know what to do
I think I'll set and drown in my pool of tears
And pray tomorrow never comes

It felt like midnight
Running with the wind
Across the hills
Chasing the stars
Catching our breath
Listening to the crickets
Dancing in the river
..It felt like this

It felt like freedom
Beholding a recurring dream
Finally grasping what you've always longed for
Squinting your eyes in disbelief
Delicate tear drops of joy
The adrenaline of glory
..It felt like this

You felt like home
Like unlocking the front door of peace
The familiar and most relaxing feeling of laying your head down on your cool pillow
The safety of your life behind those walls
The carpet caressing your clean and damp bare feet
Fresh coffee brewing before you open your eyes
The morning sun through your window into your bedroom as an alarm
..You felt like this

"“I am a lover without a lover. I am lovely and lonely and I belong deeply to myself.”
— Warsan Shire"

I’ve been thinking about what to say for a couple of weeks, long before my birthday, and yet I still cannot articulate the words that I really really want to say. I know that we aren’t friends anymore and that we don’t talk anymore, but still I would’ve thought that after so many years of friendship and after everything that we have been through, you would’ve text or called or something for my birthday. In my mind, I thought that what we had, the bond that we had shared was stronger than that. Despite everything that had transpired. Even though we were not talking, I still wished you a happy 18th birthday. I knew that that was a milestone for you, I knew that it was a major occasion. I swallowed my pride, even though I was still extremely hurt and mad at you. I did that and against better judgement will still continue to do that, because believe it or not you are still the first person I think to tell things to. You are still the first person that I reach to call whenever things in my head are going to ****.
Last week, I was at A&T; with one of my friends Britni and for some reason, I started going down memory lane. Friday, it started with looking through my Instagram and then onto yours and then to my very old account. I then moved to Facebook, looking through all of our stupid videos and pictures. Then I ventured to your mother’s account. And as I swam deeper and deeper into the memory pool that mainly consisted of us, I got sadder and sadder and sadder. First it started off one eye tear stream and then I got up and walked to the bathroom and my vision became blurred with our smiling faces and mascara burning its way down my cheeks.
Even now, I am sitting in a stairway contemplating sending this to you or just saying, “**** it, she doesn’t care about you anyway”, and proceed with my original plan of getting drunk tonight with you on my brain. But I don’t know, maybe I need to send this, get all of this off my chest like my therapist says. Maybe sending this to you will help me sleep more, maybe it will help to let go of the past. I really don’t want to cry anymore. I really don’t want to keep waking up in the middle of the night thinking of you. Pathetic I know, because you don’t feel the same.
You don’t have to respond, it’s okay.
-Nai
(21/11/2015)