You want things I'm not willing to give you
Why? I couldn't tell you.
It seems my body prevents those around me
From seeing who I really am.

You weave words into soft warmth
Better than most
But which parts are real
Which words do you mean?

My body is a work of art.
But is that because it was convenient
Or were you really in awe.

I go into everything for the long run
But some things are short lived

And that's okay.

My life is a series of manipulative relationships because from a young age I was taught that my job is to please. To please everyone but me. Because your happiness means more than mine. No is not an option.  

But that's not fair or right or good.
Because I matter and my happiness means just as much as yours or anybody's
So please, ask consent.
My body is mine and only mine.
I choose what I do with it
And I if I say no please don't ask why
Because sometimes the answer is a simple as I don't want to
And that is fair.
It takes two to tango
If two want to tango.
So no means no

Don't push.

at first glance she does not seem to have a care
it might be the way she flips her hair
but look a little deeper, pick her apart
and suddenly she has a heart

behind glass eyes and tough skin
the apathy runs thin
through her blood that rushes through
her veins like me and you
but she’s different
a little indifferent

broken bones and
a broken home
worked together to create a blissful
hurt creature full
of pain but mostly love
hidden above
the ideas that vulnerability makes you weak
and weakness does not build strength rather it’s a slap on the cheek
so you turn the other cheek and build another wall
to hide from it all
because

no one really cares
or maybe it’s just the way they’ve been flipping their hair
I don’t know
but what I do know
is that she cares
and she is there
for me whenever i’m down
she wipes away my frown

at second glance i see the way she cares

genuinity, something i have only found
in the most broken of people washed up on the ground
trying to fix those around them
because they don’t dare see what is coming from within

"C'mon! You're alive, that should make it great!"
He said enthusiastically.

I sighed and replied; "For most that is the case, for others, living simply means breathing."

the only look i seem to find when i look into your eyes
is long overdue disappointment