I have come to realize that the hardest thing
to do is not picking out an option from two that
are very similar in nature, but rather putting myself first.

Ever darkening the trees slowly take the sun.

Ever thickening the trees surely rule this trail.

Ever freighting trees making you have to run.

Ever attacking trees start causing you to flail.

Ever persisting they will do all that it takes.

Ever exhausting you soon fall from their wrath.

Ever defraying all of your major mistakes.

Ever realizing this was indeed the wrong path.

Totality escapes beneath me, all that I’ve left unexplored collapses unto me.

Triggered, by self centered inundation, I might as well be gone.

For what do I provide the collective? But neglect and self indulgent plunder.

Relive this aeonic cage, cyclic and persistent. Yet each existence we reach a new peak.

So benevolent, and elegant. I need to relive samsara to fill my void.

Be meaningful to others. Because I do not matter, what I do matters.

Momentarily, this escapes me, shameful and foolish, I must regain such tonic insight.

It combats my abysmal fear of inconsequentiality.

I’ve reflected in infantilism, however I think I’ve found what guides us to actualization.

At least myself anyway, I need to mean something to others.

I need to teach and learn from my peers, whom I overlook as of now.

How myopic and repugnant. White from shame I apologize to those who’d listen.

I open my arms to all. Let me help, show me how to help.

"Stop" you said. Not a nice tone. Bossy and elitist straight down to your bone. Peppering your eggs to perfection, not a thank you in my direction. Who did you think you were? When you woke up next to me, did you know? That if you kept up the ******* I would go?"

" **and I went to this show" Oh cool, another punch and blow. Every time we hang out, I hear that name. Stabs sharper than a knife. I started to make a tally in my phone, to make myself feel less crazy. I'm starting to realize.

The day you asked me why I was smiling. We were out to breakfast and I was just happy to have this moment with you. Happy to see you. Happy to be with you. Was I not allowed to be happy?

Affectionately scratching your hair after your show. "What are you doing?" You were happy to show me off to your friends, saying I'm your "groupie". But not in private.

Like a shallow pond-
All hope is lost for the fish
swimming in the end.

I never truly understood before
Meaning of the word "bittersweet"
Until this moment our fingers
Cautiously extend to meet

The rush of longing fills body
Mix of nostalgia and despair
Electric passion flowing through me
Almost more than I can bear

The teardrops wet my expressionless face
I am thankful the sky is dark
You tentatively fiddle with the radio
Unaware I'm falling apart

I am trying so hard to be grateful
Each second I spend with you
The whole time our skin is touching
Wondering if you're grateful too

My eyes glisten and betray dismay
You finally notice something is wrong
Crack a joke to make me laugh a little
The happiness only lasts so long

One look at you
My hopes soar
In sinking waves of blue drown
Scolding stupid emotions for flying
I know our love will come crashing down

Yet despite desperate restraints
Expectations climb against will
So fond of you it makes me sick
Too infatuated I feel ill

The air coats clothes with loneliness
Lungs with empty residue
Stardust permeates sore limbs
Brightening everything we do

So curl up halfway on your lap
Savoring temporary bliss
The agonizing thoughts lurking in my brain
Are not so easy to dismiss

The ecstasy blooming in my center
Is why I remain here
Why does all the good between us
Have to be tainted by pain or fear?

The sizzling sensations are sweet
Presence infects my core with glitter
It's the inevitable hurt when you break me in two
Rendering me jaded and bitter

Now I realize how wonderful
Yet awful that word can be
Learned it is impossible
Spelling bittersweet without "we"

A letter to me.
Not the younger me,
or the older me,
but me.
The one fighting today.

It's a letter to my hands,
for all they have created,
many ideas that have flourished,
even this poem made elated.

It's a letter to my feet,
for all they have carried,
standing when I fall,
rising when I am buried.

Even a letter to my eyes or ears,
for everything they've seen or heard,
grateful for what has been blocked out,
creating room for more that is cured.

These key parts of me,
while I could thank them more,
help me through the day,
even when I am sore.

Just a letter to my body,
forgiveness I would wish,
for all the scars and shame,
that I will never miss.

Forgive me for not loving you,
the way I know I should,
one day you will know,
of all how much I could.

It's a letter to my mind,
a place that is haunted,
whispers that beg,
wishing to only be wanted.

I've cursed you daily,
wanting you to be better,
but never really thinking,
until I wrote this letter.

Yes you can be bad,
yes you can be sick,
but you are still my mind,
and that is something that will stick.

But sometimes you have thoughts,
that are wild and free,
creating ideas,
that can fill will glee.

So for that you are wanted,
for all I take for granted,
for staying by my side,
for not leaving me stranded.

As I get older,
and the more that I see,
on how I should not treat my body,
so pitifully.

Though it has its flaws,
a bad day,
a rough night,
I will always say,
that I need to treat it right.

So this is a letter to me,
the one living today,
to never forget,
why things are this way.

For my body is not perfect,
and neither is my mind,
but it always teaches me lessons,
on how to always be kind.