I'm not going to talk about you again
No
I refuse.

I should be able to think about something else
But somehow everything reminds me of you
It's so ******* unbearable

Maybe it's because I've dreamt about you lately
More often than I should
Or maybe it's because everything else around me
Bores me so much I can't think broadly

I'll fight myself through these hopeless excuses
Daring not to face the unavoidable truth

And I'll tell you more;
Like the sun shines after the storm
Or the waves crash in the sea
I will adore you...
*Endlessly

By following the light,
You will break yourself.
You will be punched and pushed,
And stretched to lengths
you never thought you could venture.
But you will survive.

The light saves you from that decaying part of you that would be your demise.
It heals you and makes you whole.
By destroying you,
and putting you back together.
Tighter.
Stronger.

--

A new day,
A new person.

You rise from the fire;
The flames lick your skin.
They feel warm,
And you feel rejuvenated.

You are reborn from fire, from the light,
And light you become.

--

The darkness is repelled by your presence;
You have broken free of your deficiencies.
By conquering your demons,
You have proved yourself above the dark.

The blackness is trapped beneath your feet,
*It can never control you again...

You are the unbearable sort of thing that I wouldn’t want to wear on my feet, even with boots laced up to the knees, because wearing you would force me to cover my polka-dotted toes,
And anyone who would want to compromise my innocence like that is horribly patterned and dull,
                                              
Like the lone argyle sock with the tag still attached that I hate, gathering dust on that shelf in the rain, where the rest of my unwelcome thoughts have found place
                                                           ­     The ones that can’t cover my insecurities
                                                    ­                            Or don’t flatter my figure at all
              
                There’s an obvious scab on my ankle that won’t heal
                Embarrassing, really
                It came from my unwavering faith in open-toed stilettos
                                You saw it just the other day
                                And I blushed as I tried to pull my pant leg over the sore, but you knew (I think)

Oh, the puzzling urge I have to be made over by the brains of your outfits!
                                                So I can open a closet of conversation topics that would suit both of us just fine

I think
                                                I have shed 18 years of ideas in the past two weeks
                                                I starved myself until I could fit into the apparel of your approval
                                                Which I claw through my closets but still cannot find
                                                But I know that somewhere in my brain beneath an empty toilet paper roll or stuck on a dead branch of ideas is a match to your unbearable pattern-
              
Perhaps if I’d kept my opinions more alphabetized, I would’ve found it sooner
                Blast, my scattered brain that can’t seem to produce any fashion but faux pas for you
                Logic and emotion were never meant to mix like this- trust me, I know well
Give me a summer to rearrange myself, hmm?
                Or will I have no use of you then…

If only I’d started to realize sooner
We’d be peeling oranges and discussing the oldest styles of thought, you and I
                Beneath an umbrella in the rain
                                You wouldn’t be able to see that odd scab on my ankle
                                Because I would have the other lone argyle sock with the tag still attached that I hate-

I feel that perhaps
you are only unbearable because I wish you complimented me better, that perhaps the reason I’m starving myself of all reason is because I’d like nothing more than to openly say
that I hate you, my lone, little argyle sock
                                                but that is only
                                                because right now, I could never possibly hope to wear you

A friend to have,
A walk in the rain;
Drowning in the droplets:
To forget about the pain.

A hand to hold,
A heart to touch;
Requesting that your heart
Wouldn't hurt so much.

A light to guide,
A lesson to seek;
Trying your best,
Though chances seem weak.

Some Faith to behold,
A truthful tale;
Mending the peices,
Of a heart rendered frail.

A simple love,
A day in the sun;
Loving each other:
Two hearts, as One.

for a millisecond,
where they see nothing,
i see *infinity

when my pride becomes    unbearable
I coalesce into                       nothing.
I rush to You in                     love,
with courage to be                vulnerable.
asking for                               help,
so I can                                     live.