Little baby bird,
you fell from the nest all too soon.
Dreaming of your wings scraping the sky,
now you're left battered and bruised.
I passed by one day,
a stranger, an obscure oddity.
What a coincidence that I needed someone to fix,
and you had fallen right in front of me.
I scooped you up,
whispering promises that I'd keep you safe.
Carried you back to my home,
and on passed the days.
Autumn rolled around,
and soon I realized,
I was a sucker for this baby bird
and his puppy dog eyes.
But would it be selfish,
would it be unfair?
To never teach you how to fly,
afraid you'd swoop up into the air,
and set off for somewhere new,
forgetting little old me..?
Forgetting that my only goal in life
was to make you happy?
So I'll patch you up,
and I'll let you go.
But I'll leave my window open,
just so you know..
If you're ever in trouble,
if you ever need a home..
You know where to find me.
I'm yours, and I've always been.
Even before you met me.
Even before we existed.

All I know is that some days I find myself curled up on the floor, eyes red, lips shaking, thinking that if I could, I would have given up on myself long ago.
So that is why I doubt you will love me. I cannot even love myself.

I must start off by saying I am a frustrating person.
You can swear I'm beautiful and that you'll never leave,
but I will not believe you.
Some days you will find me crying for no reason and think I am insane.
You are right.
I am a paradox. I am hot and cold, okay then shattered.
I am a roller-coaster ride, a wild, reckless soul with a heartbreaking past and demons in my mind.
Maybe I am looking for someone to save me, and maybe I am looking for someone to save. I haven't decided yet.
I am tied down by my fears and insecurities, plagued with bad memories that run through my mind every time someone says they love me.
How can you love a broken girl?
A girl who is not whole.
A girl who cannot even trust you because trusting always lead to heartbreak at the end of the day, feeling naive, played like a toy by the eyes of a beautiful boy.
A girl who is paranoid because she knows there are prettier, funnier, smarter, nicer girls, and she thinks she could never add up, and if you want only her, there must be some sorta catch.

And if you can get past these walls, break past the barriers I keep around to protect this damaged heart of mine, and you withstand every test I throw your way, if you stay even when I make you want to leave sometimes, just know that I will forever be yours, and I will hand over my battered heart in shaking hands, hoping it will be enough, hoping you will not break me even more.
We are two broken people, and together we will be whole.

I once knew a boy with large glasses
and lips always in a lopsided grin.
We were friends, lovers, and enemies, but mostly just two masochists.
It was during 4th grade at our lunch table where he told me
he didn't believe in God.
5 years later under the scorching sun rays,
I asked him, "Have you ever prayed?"
He said, "Yes, once."
And I wondered, what could break an atheist so badly
they'd get down on their knees, fold their hands and
plead to something they didn't believe in?
"I asked God to bring you back to me."
It's been 2 months since we last spoke,
and I think it's really over this time.
And I'm left to wonder,
does he still pray for me like I pray for him?

"I've made a mistake."
"How so?" I asked.
"I've fallen for you."
"And how is that a mistake?"
"Because I've just given you the power to destroy me."

I stand before the mirror, circling everything I wish I could change.
Before long, there's more marks on my body than freckles on my face.
It's funny how you could tell me I'm beautiful, and I'll quickly forget.
But a simple 'you're ugly,' will forever be implanted into my head.
I keep my gaze down in front of strangers, terrified they'll see what I see.
My eyes are two open windows to the doubt and insecurity.
Maybe if I just smile, play along, pretend I'm alright,
nobody will suspect those are my cries they hear at night.
And I can't help but wonder what it's like to be pretty.
To make guys stop and stare, tall, tan, and skinny.
To throw on anything and walk with confidence out the door,
instead of trying on 13 different outfits and wondering why you try for.
Why doesn't God listen to me when I beg him to be someone new?
Just live in another's skin, is that so hard to do?
For a day, that's all I need, I want to see what it's like,
to not be the one who stares at her reflection and cries.

I keep hitting new lows,
pressed your liquor to my lips,
thinking the buzz would drown out this crippling loneliness.
But I found myself on the bathroom floor,
curled up into a ball,
crying because I realized I'm just a lost cause.
And all I wanted was love,
love that you never gave.
All I got was more bruises to cover,
the burden of all your pain.
And you can say I was unstable
and maybe I am.
But I could've been saved if you just would've given a ****.

Did you think my life was a game?
Did you think I'd always be around?
Do you realize now that I'm gone,
you'll have no one to kick when they're down?
Do you miss my sarcastic comebacks,
my little smirk, the sound of my voice?
And as you stare down at my grave,
I dare you to say,
that I always had a choice.

*I never had a choice.

Racing hearts and sweaty palms,
shaking hands and long talks.
Day by day I fell deeper in,
held hostage to a game no one wins.
When you fall in love, when you get that close,
a seed sprouts in your stomach and a flower grows.
Intertwining two stems, their soul and yours.
Love is a disease and its own cure.
And if that person were to ever leave,
their flower stem replaced with weeds,
you'll find the sun no longer shines,
and the flowers hidden behind your ribs shrivel up and die.
You'll hate yourself for needing someone that much,
allowed yourself to taste the most addictive of all drugs.
They call it love, and I hate it so.
How can someone's arms feel so much like home?

Is it just me
or do you ever feel like you will never quite be
enough
enough for someone
And baby I know I'm not perfect,
my hair frizzes,
I don't have a flat stomach,
I do not have  grace and eloquence,
and so many girls do,
but I hope, to you, this doesn't matter.
I hope you see a girl prettier than me and only hug me closer to your side,
like I was your world and I'd slip away if you let go.
I hope you love each flaw,
each freckle,
each scar upon my skin,
and kiss them everyday,
reciting how beautiful I am until I believe you.
And I can only hope whatever connection that burns inside of us is strong enough to make you resist every temptation
every lady with long, tanned legs.
Because I am pale, I am fragile, I am scarred and I am the underdog
in this story.
In this world of self-loathing, jealousy, and hatred,
please make me feel
good **enough