I am a rose growing from the concrete.
Already birthed into negativity,
just finding a way to bloom in hard times.
Harder than concrete could ever be.
So why do you want to hurt me?
I've already struggled.
No need to throw a stone at an innocent rose.
I've already cried.
No need to step on me.
Please don't hurt me anymore.
You'll crush a beautiful rose who made herself grow from the water of her fighting will.
My demise belongs to me,
not a person looking for an easy victim.
I'm the only rose left on this sidewalk.
All the others rotted in the sun,
Or got caught up in life's daily stampede.
But me,
I lived to plant my seed.
So leave me be,
Don't even pluck my petals,
Or stand too close.
Just leave me alone to my peace,
nestled into the grooves of the concrete to which I was born.

tldr

poems contain pieces of my soul, captured by clicks of fingers on phones
the scratching noises within my pen
the giving ups and the starting agains

i wasn’t aware that when i shared some with you
i wanted a piece of you in return
not an applause or a compliment
perhaps an acknowledgement of what you learned

did you feel a melting sensation? did my pain seep into your soul? did you become more educated? did i help you become more whole?

quite literally, my poems are a book,
a journal, a diary possessing bits of my life
moments that cause you to emit a giggle
all the way to experiences i hate to give light

tldr, it kind of hurts
when you ask to go beneath my skin
from now on, I’m wearing a jacket
to keep the careless from within

let's run away and never look back
this place isn't for us
it hurts me—
all these missed connections,
this guarded vulnerability

i never want to come back here
never again—
these memories i buried
keep coming back to haunt me
it hurts so much i can feel it in my bones

i don't want to listen to the wind
as it whispers all its secrets
i don't want to look at this familiar town
as it drips pain like honey
not anymore—

i want nothing to do with these
blood-soaked histories
let's run away—
leave everything behind
in this ****** town where everything hurts

A stranger once asked me, "What is your deepest darkest secret?" I laughed at his curiosity, hesitated for a few moments and then gave up.
"I can't think of any at the moment." I replied.
Lie.
"I'll have to get back to you."
Another lie.  
My deepest darkest secret is the words that spill from the ink of my pen into limericks, narratives and sonnets. It is the raw, most pure form of my fears, hopes and dreams.  
It is poetry.

Your voice scares me
It's as deep and sudden as thunder
Yet when you speak
It's like a mellifluous melody that I can't quite place

I don't know why our eyes always seem to meet
Am I looking for you, or are you looking for me?
Just why do you appear in all my nightmares?
With a smile you always change the scene into a dream

When I think I've finally managed to tear you away
Your eyes stand guard in my mind
As if daring me to ignore you
Daring me to ignore the pounding in my heart

It's always been your eyes
They haven't left me since the moment they met mine

The first time you said my name sent shivers down my spine
I was surprised you knew it since we barely spoke
We were always like that
Just a sentence or two ever so often

That didn't stop me from wondering what you were really like
Behind your cold brooding exterior that made everyone afraid
Everyone but me, I knew you were just misunderstood
I'm sure deep down you are just as scared

You put up the front to keep away the vulnerability
But behind your tall walls you shelter all your insecurity
Allow me to be the first to peer past
I'll let you into my mind if you let me into yours

in those distant days, i said i never wanted to puff a single cigarette; i never wanted to put any dangerous substances in my system that would compel me to ask for it over and over again. you might be getting high off them, but the thought of they’d harm me—consume me little by little, gradually, until there’s nothing left with me but addiction and dependency is dreadful to me.

it all changed after you decided to break my heart.

now, i don’t care if i harm myself with cigarettes or any dangerous substances. i’m not afraid. because i survived you. you and your love are more harmful. the apocalyptic moment when we pressed our lips together, you also ****** the soul out of my body, leaving me a little to none of myself; you crept inside of me, savoring my vulnerability—they're even more harmful and addictive and euphoric than cigarettes or any dangerous substances could do to our bodies. yet i still survive, although i'm trembling every now and then with some pieces of you and me left in my grasp.