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I hope you never get sick of me. I hope you wont wake up one day and realize that your feelings dried up like the last drop of rain on a hot summers day. I hope you don't see me as i see myself because god only knows you wont be able to turn back and i don't think you could love me the same. I hope you never wish that we had never met because i myself could never wish for something like that. I hope you can learn to love me forever without ever questioning if we are right for each other because right now my mind seems to think you are no longer in love with me. The teenager love with all its giddiness and butterflies is over but i want to love you much more than that, and i do and that's what kills me. You're so hard to read i cant tell how you feel you've closed up and i just want to talk like we use to. I hope you don't wake up tomorrow wishing it was with someone else.
Sep 2016 · 305
Play pretend
Lets play pretend for just one more night. Say you're in love with me and its got you higher than the cigarette between your lips. Lay it down tonight press your body against mine cuz i know once the morning comes you'll no longer be mine. You wont belong to anyone. Breathe me in pretend I'm the oxygen you've been depleted of and this one night. This one ******* night you want to breathe fresh air. I've pulled you under with my toxic mess like when learning to swim i held onto you but you didn't know how to either so to stay above water you held me higher. Higher....higher....let my brain begin to fuzz and my thoughts become static like that old TV we left on for a little too long that lost signal. Whisper you love me one last time and make it take my breath away because you ******* take my breath away and now you say you're leaving and i forgot how to breathe because you calmed the oceans in my lungs and you shut the **** demons up. Lay my chest against yours let our hearts beat in sync so i know I'm still alive because i don't think I'm alive anymore. Trembling i reach for your hand and you hold it so cautiously until your eyes droop and your head swims with thoughts of sleepiness. Morning....i have until morning....i will mourn with every box i must pack because i was never good at that when it comes to funerals. Morning will come you will wake up and ill simply wave you off to work and you'll lean in and I'll think its for our last kiss but you'll guide my ear to your lips and tell me that word i don't like...i cant stand....you'll tell me goodbye and ill lay in the wreckage packing every box i must to keep the memories from slipping in because i can shut my eyes and already live in them like the feeling of being home with you. You were my ******* home. You made me feel safe and i cant dream nice dreams when your gone don't you remember you take my nightmares away. Dont worry ill say before you move away from my ear it was a nice dream to live in because it lasted as long as a coma and no feeling could ever make it so i can feel that way again. It was like a prolonged high that never ceased to end until you said goodbye....goodbye....goodbye.... I will love you forever and a day...so goodbye.
Jul 2016 · 335
Anticipation
Lets go easy. Nice and slow i want to build the anticipation with you. Lets not become that quick to finish before we even start. I want to explore your body with my hands. My mouth my eyes. Let me get to be inseparable  with your body so i can finally show you what making love feels like. Because baby i have no idea what it feels like. Pull me in closer,i want to be closer to you. Leave the ***** **** for later because i want to shower you with every kiss caressing your delicate skin. Let me trace the scars from those surgeries you can spin tales about for hours that i love to hear. I want to love you fully without my guard up but every once in awhile it shoots up and i end up blocking every sense from you.
Jul 2016 · 229
Promises
Heavy burden on your shoulders enough to make each statue break. Quiet lies, empty mouth the two will never correlate. With this ring i give you my being and with this ring i take your freedom but somehow the dream ends there and you're slipping through my fingers like the wind blows the sand from my princess castle i dreamed of forever.
Jul 2016 · 209
Difference of addictions
I don't want to say they are the same. you get high off of nicotine but i get high off the pain. We are not one in the same.  Laced my veins around my neck because its the only way to get my brain to stop the talking. I swear to god I've written my letters over a hundred times just to say goodbye to some people who never understood why i was always under the weather. While I'm painting pictures across this ivory fortress to pretend I'm worth more than a dollar sign your spending your weeks wages on a pack of camel silvers. I wish i could inhale every head rush you get so then all i have to worry about is the coming down not the sting from the peroxide. Not the whispers or the stares as if i cant hear their words etched in acid oozing down my already damaged body. I am damaged goods please don't look at me. Don't look at me. Don't.
I remember every reason why but you don't even know why you pick that last cancer stick up.
You see this one with the curve at the end? My mom told me i was the equivalent of an unpaid bill and that's all i'd ever be so i let the pain do all the talking. This long one down my thigh,that's the one  most people gaze at you see i did it and let my legs be covered like the dirt going over a coffin. A little kid asked me what happened not knowing what to say i froze like a deer in headlights and let someone else make my excuses for me. I was just another excuse to be made anyways.
Jul 2016 · 254
Shut out
I'm building these walls so high that I think i've finally kept everything from myself. Wallowing in my own self pity, and mutilating hatred that I've forgotten how to breathe. Wait how do I breathe. Now I'm thinking about it , oh god I can't breathe. This is how it feels to be suffocated by the lies you entangle around your body to make this persona everyone can admire from afar? My words repeat, twist into a different pattern I can't seem to find the most fitting words to make people want to remember me, or better yet be engulfed by my artwork.

Why won't anyone tell me why I'm so petrified by closed doors keeping the light on just seconds before it shuts only to run quickly into my mattress made of the baggage I carry with me. I must make a home within my mind so I did. And I lie awake every night tossing and turning on blood clots I forgot to let bleed out.


The space between them and me is so blurry around the edges I can't seem to feel it anymore, being detached for so long has made my reaction time slow to oncoming emotions like that semi mere seconds away from nearly taking your life away. I promise the alcohol is long gone from my system, but it was the one thing to help me feel. Every feeling,  memory bleeds into the next and I can't decipher where one begins and where it ends. This wall is built so high to keep me away from myself but in the long run it's dug a trench six feet deep to bury the secrets hidden behind the smile. Learning to hand sew it back on whenever it began to falter. I can only play caged animal for so long before I finally give in to the animalistic side of myself.

These walls are so high like the bathtub that's quickly filling with water that I've so ironically forgotten to stop, so as the water overflows the walls keep the water in, and now it's in my lungs, please god tell me I'm not drowning by my own ****** functions.

The doctors said this is how I cope, that it is on the edge of being emotional detachment disorder but I promise I feel fine.

These walls are built so high but that never discouraged them from breaking it down, accepting me with open arms I imagined is what felt like a mother's love but I never got to feel it.
Jul 2016 · 324
Keevin
There is no easy way to let go, no shortcut to say goodbye for a really really long time. I guess you had been practicing in the mirror what you'd tell me if you ever got the chance because you took it. It was like we were in the fighting ring but i told you so many times i wasn't strong enough to defeat you. But over and over again you had your way with me. Pulled my hair like we were in the bedroom but i stopped falling for that when you told me the key to your heart was locked inside my very own thighs. Said if i opened them enough for you to slip in you'd grab the key and let me wear it on a string around my neck. The cops found it when i was hanging from the ceiling. Said i climbed too high. That when i jumped my parachute didn't open and that's why i got caught on the ceiling fan. The coroner stated there wasnt enough space between my heart and the ground and thats why it dropped repeatedly as you told me how worthless i am.
Twelve is not the time for sane people to be awake. Its the time for broken hearted people to weep over secret keeping sheets and a mattress filled with enough sharp objects if searched thoroughly could get an arrest warrant involved. It was 11:55 when you got enough ***** to tell me you weren't in love with me.
You told me you ached for my touch because it brought you to life but in reality you were just a ***** boy looking for a way to get off without actually doing any work.
I stopped wearing skin tight clothing afraid if i moved the wrong way another you would come along. I stopped wearing the clothes that hugged my curves like a blanket of snow because i didn't want them to see the bumps from the mistakes i made.
The nights are so empty without you but I've learned how to embrace the emptiness. I've been trying for countless nights to find the instruction manual on how to cope with saying goodbye to someone who isn't even there...not anymore at least.
The first day without a single wake up call from you was only then i got my wakeup call. I cant have you. And i deserve better. You will always be that glue i tried to peel off as a kid and once im done pulling off the majority, only specks of you will be intertwined in the divets in my palm. keeping you close but only as a distant memory
It was one in the morning and i wanted to be so drunk i couldn't even remember the sound i love you made because you mistaken it for my name every time i let you find your key.
Jul 2016 · 188
Dying
It was so hard to hang up the phone with so much emptiness in between our words we could barely say goodbye . it was at that moment at a drop of a hat i couldn't bare to remember it was i that pushed her away. She held me up for so long i forgot what it was like to hit rock bottom until i did. I didn't hit it like i use to i couldn't put the brakes down fast enough that i scraped both my knees hitting it with so much force i forgot how to speak.
I've died a thousand times but there were never enough body bags to fit the pieces i lost, and she....she kept them for remembering me but i guess she forgot about what happens when one dies because she eventually started to smell like rotting flesh with a dash of formaldehyde.
Months later i saw her walking around her skin flaking off every inch of her body. She never got the memo that being fragile is what gets you killed. She spent so much time with the pieces of me that i think she caught the death that emanated from my very pores.
Watching someone die  slowly and painfully is not what everyone says it is. Your bones do not creak one morning when your not lying next to her, waking up from the one night stands that fill the space between my emotions and i. She told me that's why we never lasted.
I wish i had never swallowed every pill, drank every bottle i put onto the wall for others to sing about, because the coroner found the overdose in the bed of her stomach.
99 bottles of beer on the wall take one down pass it around 100 bottles of beer. I guess i finally beat my record.
Jul 2016 · 205
Baggage
Did you wake up one morning and realize you were no longer in love with me?ripped my beating heart out of my chest because you don't do "commitment" and instead of letting me down easy you packed a bag of rocks to tie to my ankle, each one in scripted with every reason on why you couldn't love me anymore. I don't know the exact moment when i became a chore,nothing but a simple mess to clean up after. The constant reminder you didn't get out in time.

Broken promises and a dash of heartbreak outlined your lips and when you spoke my reality was twisted into something i couldn't recognize just like the time i looked in the mirror and i didn't know who was staring back. Its like your a pro at identity theft but you only stole the good parts of me.

Did you finally wake up today and realize I'm more than you can handle because i have all sorts of baggage that you don't have enough strength to help lift.
Jul 2016 · 163
Chris
The past seems to always walk in between the hours of 2a.m.to five. It never stays long enough to see where things go. Its favorite trick is to disappear after making me cling onto a hope i never knew. Memories dug up for the amusement of my past he will smile and play me like an instrument, he's learned very well how to play me. Not too rough but not soft enough to keep the bruises off my body that i hope will cling to the bones rattling inside.

The past always seems to enter whenever he pleases,ties me down and walks away leaving nothing to let me free. He is laced with sadness and not the kind that cripples you everyday but the kind nostalgia cant take away. I thought time would heal my wounds but the past keeps coming back for more and i dont think ill be getting out of this alive because everyday i find a new name for my past. And today his name is regret.
Jul 2016 · 223
One sided
We are the generation that's finally woke up, took our head out of our ***** to realize we can't live off religion and tomorrow will be betters.  Is god really even there anymore? I used to ask you this to fill the silence at three a.m. because my brain honestly would not stop thinking about the big questions on life after death. As a kid i never questioned what the church taught, it was only after i grew up i learned they taught me to hate myself. When i was baptised it wasn't in blessed water to purify me of my child like sins of stealing one too many cookies but to try to burn any evidence i would one day realize how one sided this talk with god is.

I use to pray everyday.....preached to people who i thought needed Jesus like it was some sort of game that whoever saved the most people wins. But no one told me begging for a sign that maybe it gets better is how one is suppose to see this all and holy love.

Waking up has become this impossible task of trying to go to some dreamland and yes others have it worse but I'm tired of that line always being used to justify that what i feel does not matter in any shape or form. While others may have it worse in no comparison should i complain but its like i have heaven and hell inside of me at war and its been like this for the last seventeen years. I found myself praying the other day because frankly i didn't want to die on the freeway in a black 1983 ranger simply because the carburetor died. I never finished the prayer and looking back now I'm wondering if that's because i realized in the matter of seconds it took me to pray i managed to survive one more thing with nothing less than an amen or a hallelujah.

I've bruised my knees so many times from sitting on tile til my legs were numb just to feel a sense of security that my spot in the afterlife was secured. I believed every ******* word my family said for years about god being everything. But right now talking to god i can only hear my own voice, and i cant tell if that means I'm suppose to save myself or if he's finally left me.

I don't think he can even hear me anymore from how loud the religious people are shouting holding their signs of hate to make the man upstairs so proud of them. Will they get a clap on the back and "job well-done" for every body they bury six feet deep without even pulling the trigger.

Wheres god when we needed him most,I'm tired of staring at an empty sink wondering why he hasn't stopped me yet, has he finally stopped believing I'm real just like i have with him?  

What do you think it feels like to fly?i don't really have an answer because I've spent my highschool years with my head in the clouds high on whatever drug i could get my hands on because god wasn't enough to fill my cup so i found replacements.

One cup was filled with love so holy but somehow tainted I guess I let my blood ooze too much because it splashed in the cup and the love left. Never looking back, do you think that's how god felt when i finally realized like the tooth fairy i could never believe in his existence .....because my parents could never keep a straight face while talking about him.

And maybe one day even the bible will become mythology a simple story put into history to write off as fake.
Jul 2016 · 207
Learning to let you go
The difference between knowing when to let go and when to love harder is it doesn't hurt to say goodbye. Your bones don't creak in agony for the slight touch of her hands or simply waking up without her next to you. Nothing but space and the body of some stranger you spend endless one night stands with to fill the void between your emotions and you . She told you that's why it never lasted because you were that rusted old rollercoaster rickety and barely able to go through the loops because you were relying on the only working wheel she felt unsteady with you because at any moment you would break down. Stuck in the last spot you saw the glistening chance of ever feeling. And she knew you'd never get back up again or at least you wouldn't work as well as you use to. She knew the old saying "you cant teach an old dog new tricks" that's why she's gone.

You will never glance up and see her staring at you with that grin you so....whats the word? Not loved because that would imply feeling but you adored it because it was so care free. To say you saw the world in her eyes would never describe enough to anyone how she mattered to you, but you'll push it away to the side and the instructor will simply say to keep all objects inside during the ride. Because you are after all this indestructible wall you built with nothing but your two hands and a hammer to keep every moment you wanted for safe keeping locked inside.

How am i suppose to say goodbye to someone whose not even here anymore? Youre a phantom at its finest i know your there but i cant truly feel you like i use to.  This world isn't made for handouts but yet i still tried to win you like some claw machine prize and ive come to the conclusion if you dont love me like i do you then you will always be my almost lover that i never had enough time to spend with.

Ill spin tales about the man you were because id never let your name go down in the dirt because even after it all ill always be a fool for you.

Your knees don't quite shake anymore because your last wheel was finally removed to be put on the newer model.
It took me two weeks to realize i was no good for you. And its gonna take me a lifetime to forget the sparks we had
Five months for a teenage brain is a lifetime to be with someone...add ten more days and that's how long i got to keep you. This isn't second grade you don't get a trophy for merely breathing and that's all i was doing. Breathing you in every second i got until we stopped seeing each other outside of school. I thought i was oxygen deprived but i was only deprived of you. Fought against my gut feeling that i could not keep my promise of forever. I wanted to burn the memories we had in picture frames. To shatter them like i shattered us. I cant walk past you with out the little pieces of my heart aching. I may have been the little spoon but i had the entire world at my fingertips when you were by my side.
The day it officially ended we said We'd keep in touch. That We'd be best of friends but now we don't even say hello. Bad habits have been restarted and **** the nicotine high is so lovely when i think about you..i forget. The head rush and the burn in my throat i think the firefighters told me i had too much smoke in my lungs for it to be just from a fire. So when they took me to the hospital to try and clear my airway not realizing it was the hospital i asked for my one call. And it was to you but i think i had too much nicotine in my ******* veins pumping straight to my brain that i didnt realize when you answered id be ripping off the scabs that were helping you heal
I still miss you...i dont think thats ever gonna change. Weve both moved on now. But my addiction to nicotine is at an all time high
Jul 2016 · 174
Am i good enough
We left a tray of cookies on the counter a few days ago, to let them cool so our greedy hands could place the delicious chocolatey heaven in our stingy mouths but we forgot about them and one day turned to the next when we finally realized we wanted the cookies that we practically cried over. They were already stale. So when he put me on the counter and told me "i will want you later"  i knew i was backup for when she finally found that forever had ended for you two. But i guess i started growing stale because when you came back you said i just wasn't the same. I didn't taste so sweet and the bitter had set in. So every time another person comes along and says maybe later i don't know if I'm suppose to put a best by sticker on my arm to let you know when i will expire for your tastebuds. The cookies crumble if you hold them too tight just like i have crumbled from the tall tales you spun.

My mom cleaned the fridge out yesterday,the smell of rotting food had finally become too much. She said if she sprayed enough bleach inside to let it soak that he might actually come back. Because it wasn't her that had made him leave but the fact we never had enough of anything to make him content with the smell of decaying food corpses. Not enough bargain tools to show him we were good enough too. My mom finally accepted he was gone for good and i noticed that her best by sticker was on her arm and it was to expire tomorrow.
His lips were the reminder of every love song i could ever relate too....but it was much more than that. His hands flew like ripples in the calm of a lake finding there way to the deeper side of my emotions. I had always thought i was like a kiddy pool shallow and unable to keep anyone interested because my feelings didn't go to deep but then he showed up and i turned into the ocean. Deep enough for him to get lost in every aspect of my being. Let him dive into my brain to see my point of view without even a hint of fear. There's sharks swimming in my heart i whispered but he didn't hear me at least i thought he didn't until he whispered "i can fix that if you let me."
Jul 2016 · 216
I once knew a boy
I once knew a boy who questioned why i always shook like my insides were made of jello asked why i felt the need to let my hands be unreliable guns shaking as i tried to pull the trigger. I missed. X marked the spot and he was not the x that i was afraid of. He said i looked as if i was convulsing every time i was near him..he pondered on why there were fault lines etched into my thighs said maybe that's why i could never keep them together. How do you explain that your brain is on overdrive and you cant help but let it take the wheel...and so i shake. Learned which drug would help the shaking go away. Too many hits and ill be a walking catastrophe crossed that one off the list. Once my hand gripped the box that warned me of cancer my insides shook less. I once knew a boy who constantly got on my case about how bad i shook but little did he know the fault lines were reason for the minor tremors in my knees and the tilt a whirl for my hands. I once met a girl whose hands out shook mine told me it was okay that these things happen and it wasn't my fault. Our lips trembled hands quivered knees buckled and the boy questioned why were an abandoned house caving in on itself
Jul 2016 · 348
If you only knew
If you only knew....
If you only knew half the things i repeat over and over in my head you would wonder why i haven't cracked like that egg you dropped Monday morning. If you saw what a handful of hurtful words can do to a body if left alone long enough at night i think you'd trace the lines that cover my skin not deep enough to stay just deep enough for you to run your hands over and tell me its a turn on for you. Like saying if i had enough of these scars youd actually like to be in a committed relationship with me,but sadly I'm already with someone and they haven't left since i met them. I know where to find them if things aren't going right because everything has to be perfect. And although cold to the touch i still feel their love. Its like a bite and the sting stays there awhile but...you learn to love it when you pour rubbing alcohol into them because you think they are infected and god knows what your parents would do if they found your back with them again.
Sorry i havent posted in awhile just been down lately
Feb 2016 · 940
If depression were a person
His eyes were not the reminder of a once well known friend they were the reminder that I only got three hours of sleep last night and there's a test on something I couldn't wrap my brain around because I was too busy searching how to tie a noose on a screen to bright for my tired eyes. I never knew he'd show up unexpectedly at dinner and I could almost see my mothers nose crinkle in disgust either from the stench of my lack of motivation or simply the smell of death. He had this way of holding himself. Hands shaking like a ticking time bomb or way to ready to jump to the next thing to ease the situation.
To ease the situation.
Ease the situation.
The smile carved as big as the jokers planted on a pale face and sunken eyes.
he had bags under his eyes.
bags under his eyes
Under his eyes.
Grimacing under growing bruises and bones that creaked with every movement because he is like an old house. Fun to look at and imagine what it was like in its glory days but spiderwebs and dust seem to be a better turn off than the word no.
No one told them that depression is a battle ground that theyd have to pick up their long lost child from.
Jan 2016 · 822
An open letter to my rapist
I'm suppose to be mad at you. I am furious with you. I'm angry that every time I try to remember the good all i do is remember the bad. When I look in the mirror all I see is you standing behind me and its becoming a trip like I took acid but ive never even touched the **** things..

You have become the punchline to every joke my parents don't refrain from telling. The punchline has them in fits of laughter and I don't think they saw how it was like I was sucker punched in the gut with the breath knocked right out of me

It took me six months to realize you were no good for me, but the damage had already set in like the death from a funeral that was never held for who i was.
I bet you don't even realize that, and I'm not saying I'm in love with you anymore I'm just saying if you were here in front of me I don't know if i'd fall to the ground and hope to god I don't show you how badly I cant get over what you did. Or if id simply ask you for a hug because after all in this morbid way I'm still in love with you. Its too cliche to say I gave you pieces of me that I ache to gain back. You see I never told anyone
..and maybe thats my issue.
I am a walking contradiction as I tell others to be strong and to not go back but I….If I was drunk and you somehow appeared like every memory somehow shows up like that unwanted pregnancy you thought I had. I don't know if id fall right into your arms to beg for the old us back.

Rug burns and bruises, I learned no was not a standing ovation for my security as a person but an invite for the pressure of an unclean carpet to be dragged across my body. I can still feel the digging of your jeans in my back. Its like you never really left.

This town has so many painful memories that I think it's time to get the uhaul take all the memories, take the pain and ill go somewhere I cant see you everywhere I turn. No amount of therapy can ever make me function like an actual human being.


Do you not understand that now every time the hurt comes back I have to apologize to her because I can't explain that what you did, what you continuously do is something more than words explain. That maybe she fell i love with someone who is unfixable.

The bruises are gone but the memories remain.
Jan 2016 · 460
Cancer
Dear god of uncertainty,
It was 7:30 p.m. on january fifth when she got the call that said she needed to come in for some more tests to see if the results were true. Her hands trembled as I watched her blink back tears because no one wants to be told their very own woven cells are killing them. That the body that has become this strong tower is finally leaning about to completely tip to become nothing but a pebble in the lives of so few. Two weeks ago, I thought for sure I hated her said if she died that I wouldnt care but now I'm the one begging for the results to say those lesions that have been attached to her like a leech are not cancerous..
Dear god of uncertainty, minutes feel like hours and days feel like years, and I don't think I want to spend these days counting time because eventually it will slip like the sand from the hourglass flowing through my fingers and making its trail upon chemo treatmenTs and big worded surgeries. the whispers are getting louder the louder they get the more frightened I am that her body will slowly shrink. As if when I blink she will disappear into thin air engulfed by the thing that may in fact be killing her.  Being female your suppose to have working body parts, like ovaries, or ****** but hers is broken. And Ive watched him try to carry the weight of that burden but now its spread to his bones and its like a horror scene but yet no blood is smeared everywhere just dried tears and empty "this is all just a big misunderstanding" as if the doctors read the numbers backwards or the symbols weren't in order. I mean they could have put on the wrong prescription glasses right? I watch her to see if her poker face will break to show that I'm not the only one pulling handfuls of hair out.
Dear god of doctor bills, the wheels are turning inside mixing concoctions of thought processes together to figure out how we will pay for these ******* doctor bills that begin to pile and dig us a grave in this camping trailer we live in. they send mounds of prayers up to someone they hope is listening. Someone they hope isn't punishing them for every sin not washed clean. I cant help but wonder If I started to pray to this god they all believe in. The god of life itself that maybe, we could all let out a sigh... and pretend death isn't a possability. That its not this looming threat. Waiting to claim its victim's.....but dear god of uncertainty, you only **** in sets of two right?
So....uh...well my mom might have cancer and my dad might have a tumor
Jan 2016 · 650
#hpfriend
Ive met many cool people on here and they've all been accepting but the two that have really stood out and been there for me is my friend storm and my friend olivia. Although storm and I don't talk much he/she is an awesome friend and I don't know where id be without him. As for Olivia although we don't talk anymore she was always there cheering me on and helping me out with my poetry. I miss her a lot and I wish we could still be friends but due to circumstances she couldn't and that's okay because for the time being I have learned whay having true friendships really mean. As well as being fully accepted. Everyone has never made me feel bad about my writing or who I am. So thank you all especially my two friends
Jan 2016 · 316
Cliche love
My body was made to love yours, I know that's such a cheesy cliche but baby. When your bodys pressed against mine its like a holy matrimony. Id testify to be able to prove how my heart races like it will never get another chance to beat, as if I am something to pass the time with.. if I add the extra cheesy cliched thing to say it'd simply be I want to spend forever proving my love for you not just your body which is my holy grail I will bow down to and worship every night if you'd like. But also I cant get you out of my head like that really annoying song you cant help but sing, yeah that one but this melody is not annoying at all. My heart beats the rythm and my body the lyrics and every word that fumbles out of my jaw clenched mouth is an ode to how perfect I think you are. And that's not to say you don't have flaws and that I don't aknowledge how I see you struggle with those beasts that have you in their grip, but I promise to be that knight in shining armor and chase them away for as long as I can. I'm sorry but loving you in cliche is the only way I know how to love, but I'm learning.
Jan 2016 · 380
loves funeral
Here i am laying roses at your funeral because i, i am the one that killed you. It was my gun that was pressed against your temple i counted to ten but you see it wasnt any ordinary gun....it was my lips gently pressed against yours that slowly killed you. I was slowly poisoning your body with every lip lock and hand hold.... i could see that it killed you inside to be with me, so to get rid of us you pulled the trigger and overdosed on poison. The doctors said it wasnt the medication that took your life but it was every i love you hushed into existence avoided by your parents and i dont even know why i tried because. ..itll never be the same when i look you in the eyes, when i write lullabys with your eye sockets. Day dreams with your hair folicles and forevers with your angelic smile. Im laying roses on your gravesite because i know they werent your favorite.
Jan 2016 · 667
Letter to grandma
Dear grandma, the doctors said I was born a girl why don't I feel like a girl? If I rip open my chest will the answers come pouring out for you
Dear grandma, you told me to take off the dress up I've been wearing these past few months so you could be happy with me accepting the body I was given but I have yet to be that butterfly that hatches out of the cocoon this body has been. Dear grandma you told me God and Satan are in a war and I am the prize they win for whoever is the champion.  you told me this is just an act and I need to quit it I may be a theater kid but I'm not this good at make believe. I am not after all this witch you think I am, or rather warlock if you will. Dear grandma if I starve myself enough will that reset my body into thinking of myself in female perspective
Dear grandma, do you know I live in fear everyday not just for my life but I fear even saying the wrong words to make you explode like the bomb that took the twin towers out….  so i've learned to live in silence.
Dear grandma,  start planning her funeral she's no longer with us and her presence  has long been forgotten by most her  name  no longer exist, my tongue stopped forming that name as soon as i grew up. I've been trying to tell you this all along but I just barely got the courage to let you know so lets light her memories up in flames and with the ashes make my new identity a reality because right now it feels like I'm living in fantasy. Dear grandma, I know you are old school and you don't understand how this works, I will teach you. My pronouns are male so refer to me as him, or he. tory has never quite fit so let's scrawl that on the tombstone you can cry and throw the roses but grandma this is me. I know you raised me for most of my life and you feel as if I'm betraying your trust by being True to myself but grandma wearing cologne is not gross and I'm tired of biting my tongue when you put your two cents in. you said every time I act like someone I'm not the devil wins, so with every inch  the blade dug itself into upon my wretched skin I was just trying to find the loophole out of this. Grandma I don't let my poetry get too deep it's always skin deep because if I let it go any further it everyone will see the body dysphoria. They say that the eyes Are windows to the soul grandma but why does it feel like mines shattered from all those religious talks you keep stacking on me. Dear grandma, this Christmas I just want you to spell my name right. Dear grandma, today's Christmas and I just want acceptance.dear Grandma stop throwing the ******* pebbles at me they have turned into the boulders dragging me down to the bottom of the ocean that I use to think was your love.  Dear grandma, I'm begging you all to love me and to stay but it's so hard when you keep pulling away, you cut the ties from the rubber bands so you wouldn't bounce back to me because loving me is a job you were never hired to do. Because loving me was never taught in your high school classes. Because calling me part of your family was something Jesus told you not to do. So dear grandma, who's gonna love me when you all walk out like a homeless person from a soup kitchen. Dear judy, I guess I should use your name now because you can't seem to be a grandma. Dear judy, it feels like pins and needles are crawling through every orifice of my body when you tell me that I can't be who I'm meant to be. Dear judy, My names jaxton, and I understand if you never want to talk to me but I guess that's the price I will pay for being the pill you just can't swallow. So dear grandma, I'm sorry god told you to stop loving the demon that I am.
Dec 2015 · 472
My dear friend Anton
He bought me my first binder for Christmas with the money he borrowed. Too bad his parents don't even know who he his. They spell his name as if femininity can be felt through the words of his given birth name. C for the courage he has to go through , h for his pronouns. R for every word they speak he will always make faking it look revolutionary. I, I will never be as strong as him. S, do they see that he is not their daughter but their son? Their emotions dripped like candle wax slowly melting and hardening against each other and for them it was their safety, their dreamland when reality just couldn't feel any worse. His parents scoffed and said that he must go to therapy like the confessionals he's forced into each sunday. His sins he must beg god to forgive but they don't see him like I do. A, for the days he can't appeal to them he appeals to her to make their refuge. N, not for nuture but nature this is all human nature. T, time, he must wait to be who he is. O, I will always know him as an overcomer.  N, he can't muster up the words to say never. Even when they mispronounce his name and give him the wrong gender. He will merely play dress up for them and they will never know the Anton that I know
Dec 2015 · 1.1k
Fatherless prayer
Forgive me father for I have sinned, wait what's the part after that? Isn't it go ahead my child? I don't really know because religion has always felt like a relationship I just can't commit to, while others are on their knees begging for forgiveness I was on the white tiles while the only blood of Jesus I saw was my own. Forgive me-wait you see I'm suppose to say forgive me father but it's more like why did you forget me father ? You breathed the life into my mother's stomach and then like hoodini disappeared only to reappear when the sting from the cut had started to scab you ripped it off like the bandaid I had to leave on for so long because as a child all I wanted to do was heal. Honor thy mother and...thy father? Is that really the thing to do after barricading yourself into my arteries with the knife you chased mom with. Forgive me father I don't know what I've done but somehow being born was the sin that condemned me from ever feeling your love as a soft emotion but of something I must always beg for. Forgive me father I cannot seem to see things straight and for that you will surely disown me as if you owned me when you put your  DNA into the mixing bowl to recreate your mistake that you so proudly claim on taxes. Forgive me father for I have sinned I wrote another poem again thinking someone would care to hear my voice, but they shot it down like the deer I am. Now I lay me down to sleep I pray--- who has my soul because they told me I lost it when I kissed her when I tied myself down and told them how to pronounce my name. Forgive me father for I have sinned?  Just by putting on the female body I live in.
Dec 2015 · 565
Letter to my depression
Dear crippling sadness that makes it so tragically difficult to get out of bed in the morning,
You’ve been the imaginary friend i just can’t seem to outgrow the people who use to stare at me and get paid to tell me “oh that’s normal you’ll be okay that man will never find you again….you were after all only five” they told me that i had to take this tiny white happy pill because you….you are the chemical imbalance i suffer from daily. Instead of taking a prescription or therapy i take my thoughts bundle them up like a bouquet and pray to a god i can’t seem to believe in that today i’ll be okay.
 Dear monster that lives inside my brain that i can only see,
when will enough be enough? The people who matter most to me are starting to realize i’m a project that can never be finished…..but was i really even started to begin with? You are that failing grade that is sinking my ship that use to be heading for graduation.
Dear Depression,
you see you and i play so well together, you say jump i ask how high. You teach me that this low i feel can get lower and deeper until i’m six feet deep with a tombstone to decorate how my life has been lived. Everyone will wear black, but my life was so colorful it does not need to be represented by the ugliness of you but merely how creatively i lived. While others were super outgoing and ready for the day i liked to play a little game of “drink some coffee and remember that today is just another play im starring in”. Others were talking about how dances and parties were coming up i learned to play “dressup” i could dress up a wound, i could dress up my look so you would not leak through the bandages of an already forgotten night.
Dear ‘I want to care but it’s not in me today to even care to try’,
Having anxiety and depression is like not caring about anything but caring way too much about everything, to the point i get a new assignment and start crying. Depression, the summer before my ninth grade year you taught me the trick of how to disappear, coffee in the morning, salad at dinner there was no room in my stomach to eat more than that. My therapist stared at me and told me our little friend ana was on her way to take over me completely and out the door into the coffin i would go. They said my body will cave in on itself as if my ribs were too fragile to carry this weight i had left on me. So it began to eat away the bad. I’d lay in bed at night and the gnawing feeling at the pit of my stomach was each award i was given for every rib they could see.
Dear mom and dad,
You told me to just be happy. So that day i took all of my antidepressants i was just doing what you told me to do. Who knew it’d be labeled under an overdose.
Dec 2015 · 594
Words I'll Never Tell You
I could never muster the courage to tell you every time I had to beg for the rights to my own body. I can never tell you, spinning stories woven into my temporal lobe and locked into my spinal column; how everywhere I look I see* his face. My failed attempts at opening up are wilted by my desire to open myself up to you like a late blooming flower. Drowned by the tears I cannot show you I shed every night when i'm all alone and can't seem to keep the poker face strong anymore. I will never have the audacity to clearly show you how damaged i've become, you can already taste it in every kiss.  I don't know how to bring myself to let you hold my demons inside your arms as if they are a newborn baby you have yet to love. Every single time i open my mouth my past begins to talk as if possessed by my greatest fears . My guts are spewing , spilling overboard and  I am terrified to show you what he did to me
*One year,  ten months, that's how long it's been since i  sliced his presence from my body and yet it's still haunting me. They keep telling me that i will never be okay that i will  solely  learn how to  cope with the amount of trauma he caused.  For every message that appears on my dimly lit screen that tells me he's been thinking of me, i suppose i failed at completely blocking him out of my life like those unwanted friends i never seem to delete.  Today it snowed, and i couldn't help  but remember how safety use to feel and his fingerprints still linger against the pale skin i live in. That's all it is now is my body bag that still seems to breath.
I can never tell you how much i adore that beautiful face of yours i'm afraid you'll see too much and leave me in the dust like he left me in that tunnel, on that carpet in that park. How do i let him control me?   I still manage to cower down  and be the submissive but he's no longer hovering over me, towering to  get complete control. He will forever be that ghost that remains a scar way too deep to heal.
Dec 2015 · 200
Trigger warning
Hands shaking breath quickening shes begining to break, eyes glistening mouth dry her life is in her hands she can either live or die. Flick the lighter stare into the flame blow it out like a candle. Where is your self control? Dig the sharp edge into your palm, argue with yourself. Swallow the lump that has began to grow into the size of a rock. Eyes dart like a scared child lost looking for their parents. This is it, what will you choose? Turning the music up on high she takes the lifeless cold blooded object and begins to carve like a thanksgivig turkey, she knows she wont sleep tonight so she cuts and she cuts digging deeper and deeper. Letting out a sigh of pleasure, of calmness for just a little while. She'll put the tools away and clean up the evidence making sure no one will find out shes getting bad again. Phone rings she picks it up to turn of the alarm that reminds her that reality still hasnt changed that she still needs to face the day with a forced smile and a see through laugh. The moment she steps out the door it calls to her and she just cant escape. Her life was never hers it was always the one thing that controlled her happiness. No one must know, this addiction comes with a price so say goodbye to your clean skin and say hello to a hollow shell of yourself...
Dec 2015 · 242
Depression vs. Love
Falling in love while suffering with depression is basically one in the same your words never come out right and you cant get enough sleep to save your life. It was all one in the same until i was proven otherwise. He waltzed into my life and stood tall and proud he knew what he was there for and that was my heart. Slowly giving it to him made my walls come down and i was more vulnerable than i had been in the last seventeen years of my life. When i was with him it was like the nagging voice that i wasnt good enough had finally been silenced and pushed away at least for the moment. The thoughts that would push me over the edge ceased to exist when he looked into my eyes....and oh when he kissed me my whole body lit up like a crazy suprise party sending feelings i had never felt to all my nerve endings that always seemed to lead to him. I could finally breathe when id pass the park where that boy didnt take no for an answer left me, one look from him sent me spiralling into a euphoria i had never imagined was real. That was only the begining though....and when the monsters tried to pry him from my unwilling hands the floor i stood on began to shake. The one thing potentially saving me from myself was apparently no good for me. But they didnt understand the high i felt when it was just us. They just couldnt see past their jaded perspective.....and so the spiralling became a spiralling into despair and self hate....the euphoriaturned into a sadness not even a drunk could drink away...my  lungs began to tighten even more now when id pass the park.....and even think of him......he took over my life...just like depression had.
Too bad for me I was just playing a part.
Dec 2015 · 288
Why
Why
Why does everyone have my rapists face?
Dec 2015 · 230
Attention
Alcohol is that nagging voice that tells you to drink a little more. That enough isn't enough. So you'll tip the bottle and the liquid is like fire going down the windpipe but that's what you want. You want to feel on fire so then people have a reason to care for you
Dec 2015 · 273
Untitled
I've tried to **** myself so many times, to make it messy. But who knew that continuing to live would be the exact same as downing the bottle of bleach
Flowers are suppose to grow in february right? The ones you layed across my pale skin while the IV dripped into my veins, mixing with the bottle of pills i let sink in. I didn’t want to be that mystery that could never be figured out. Love is suppose to be in the air in february right? The love he gave me in the back of that beat up white secluded car i can’t forget. The taste of freshly smoked spice lingered on his lips, this is not what february is suppose to be like. The flowers they gave me with the look of sympathy in their eyes are slowly wilted and now to them i’m something to fix, like that old beat up car. They hope that if they work on me long enough i will be able to run like new again. Breathing heavy in the back of an ambulance that is as red as the river that has staind one too many of my sheets.
7 Months Earlier…….
Her gray eyes stared at me and i wondered how could someone be so empty, it was only once i had seen her give herself to him that i saw the last little bit of herself simply dissipate. He looked at me and all i saw was blue but all he saw was another number to put in his tally board of people he has taken to bed, i wonder is the shape of my body still imprinted into that ***** floor or are the marks still on his body? The day he left the flowers on my dresser dried out and i wonder was it merely lack of imagination that they stopped believing in the infatuation i had felt. The flowers they all gave me with the smiles of not knowing how to react piled up in the corner of my room and now they are all singed from the fire i started on my skin, leaving the trail of kisses like third degree burns where no one could tell that who i was is no longer. August, September, October, is the thing in my belly finally growing or have i killed it with my thoughts?  They sent me white tulips for your grave…. too bad i was never able to make it to my own eulogy. November, little movements are no more and that is the day i say you left me to be an angel. February, always back to the same **** month. My mother’s blank stares and venom dripping words* “How dare you, what the hell were you thinking”
Laying there in that hospital bed surrounded by the four white walls, that poked fun at the failing act of trying to take my life. I sat there. One face blurred to the next, her tiny body laid to mine as she begged me in a hush tone to not die, that’s not what big sisters are suppose to teach but in all fourteen years of her life that is all i have taught her how to do. I spent that night alone pondering if i closed my eyes would my lungs stop needing oxygen and would my pathetic life flash abruptly and all i will repeat is “What the hell were you thinking”
That house went up in flames and i am still spitting up ashes, coughing up thorns from all the roses i never got.
**What the hell was i thinking?
Dec 2015 · 487
Thunderstorm euphoria
I am apprehensive to hold you for fear you will slip through my hands like the sand from the hourglass that keeps pouring out into my lungs and i long for the possibility to finally stop running from all the ghosts in my closet, but every time i come around they come out like the monkey on my back that i’ve had since i was eleven. How do you spell deep affection without saying it’s L-O-V-E? I rue the fact i cannot seem to open these infirm bones enough for you to make your forever home. I do not have the power to paint happiness across your skin, when i do i leave tracks of agony and it’s unbearable to watch you stitch yourself up after every love affair we hold against that lovely flesh of yours.
When you kiss me can you ******* past and all the puzzle pieces that have yet to be put together or do you taste a happy ever after?
My hands no longer trustworthy, i have seen people like buildings, abandoned after an adventure that didn't last long enough. Like the wind I am afraid of going unnoticed like a small thunderstorm I called  your happinessI do not want to be forgotten like that essay you just procrastinated to do, I do not want to be that failing grade that's suffocating you. If not for the metals I have dangling in front of my face you are the only razorblade I will ever let destroy me, each and ever scar will always remind me that with you my happiness was not faked. I am apprehensive to hold you because I don't know how to be someone you'll love.
Dec 2015 · 202
Help
I am so sick of crying out asking you to accept who I am....
Nov 2015 · 197
Begging
Let me die but please don't let me go down in vain...
Nov 2015 · 219
Untitled
The thoughts I believed left a long time ago have come back and I long to return them to whoever sent them...I'm not stable but how do I tell her my minds giving up?
Nov 2015 · 801
Help me
I can no longer find my voice in bullets and pill bottles. So I found it among the blood and *****. Ain't it funny how the things that are bad for our health are good for our minds?
Nov 2015 · 822
Disguise
I'm swallowing my pride about who I am for everyone I love. I'll say I'm merely just a tomboy or I'm not sure who I am. And if you tell me I can't be a boy I will swallow my name and the pronouns I prefer to let them grow in my stomach like an unborn child waiting to feel the first breath of air they will ever take. I will wear the clothes that hug my body just the right way so you can tell that I'm embracing my birth gender
Nov 2015 · 378
Dearest grandma
She whispered "you have to stop this, you have to be the beautiful girl I know you are" I wonder if she can see me tremble or hear the sound of every piece of me built upon each other as to not completely break and yet her words roll off her tongue and straight to my shield destroying the barricade I had up to keep the world out. I can't help but wonder if shed ask me to not be myself if the roles were reversed. If I had been any manlier while growing up would they see the signs like a car crash you can't prevent? Or would they still ask me to put the clown costume on for everyone to see how feminine I can be? The shorter my hair will never deter the  jokes and comments slid into my ribcage to be born when I change like that butterfly just a little to late coming out of the cacoon. Eve was born out of the ribcage of Adam yet being the eve everyone sees I am even though I'm  Adam building people up and out of my ribcage to show their confidence like a tree sap that needs a little courage to grow
Nov 2015 · 173
What if
While other girls skirts get shorter my hair does, while other girls ******* seem to get bigger mine continuously get binded down as to not let anyone know not even a speck of feminity shows upon this body. While other girls get loved by boys who say the right thing, I am that boy loving those girls the right way. But sadly trying to find someone who will love this broken body mended together with male pronouns and miscellaneous objects I need to be more masculine. The fear a girl will never love me because I will be female genitilia mixed with a deep voice and bearded face haunts my waking moment. Who will want to love someone with a huge ******* target on their back? Death always a shadow to walk behind every step of mine to show my time is surely ticking. I tried on that coat with you watching, to see if you approve  and you scoffed "its just your style" as if being a man inside a woman's body is simply put "just a style" how can feeling like a stranger in your own body be a style a fad if you will. If I could choose to be happy in this girls body I really would but now I'm stuck arguing if being myself is really such a good idea
Revised transgender poem
Nov 2015 · 1.3k
Paint
We paint over the things we dont think are normal and expect the bumps from the truth hidden beneath this temporary solution to quickly disappear as if every fault we hold inside of who we are can simply be ignored. I remember watching the paint dry but i was never able to identify if it dried from top to bottom or bottom to top, and that may never truly matter to anyone but me. That paint mau dry and harden and make us all ******* statues but for me it was always knowing that once i got home id have to hide and i can only hide for so long. When i was born they painted pink over the already blue walls trying to desguise who they were hoping id be, or at least what my father wanted. As i grew up the paint began to chip and the patches of blue were so beautiful compared to the bright pink. Pink. Pink bows pink tutus, learn to do ballet tory. Pink barbies, pink lipstick, pink earrings. The color pink just sends shivers down my spine, they said pink is how you identify if you are born female. Blue. Blue eyes, Blue shoes, blue chest binder. Blue the color of my freedom. I remember painting over my words as soon as i told you that i no longer belong under the category of being your daughter. Blue laughter, blue skies, pink cheeks, pink dresses. Painting over the walls of who we are and how we identify is our greatest weapon, too bad my paint ran out a long time ago.
Oh the joys of writers block
Nov 2015 · 491
Closeted
I have always hid behind locked doors. Learned how to bathe in the darkness, how to love when you could not see the other person you were letting infiltrate your very being. I grew in the closet swallowing who I was forcing the truth to be hidden behind the doors and in the darkness with me. As I grew up this closet I lived in started to lighten up there were window where black holes use to be and the monsters that lived within began to form into my best friends .
I have always hid behind closed doors chanted that who I was could never be. I had become the lies I was told. I always hid behind closed doors and bathed in the darkest parts of hell where no one looked to find me.
Nov 2015 · 287
Car crash
Open wounds
Gasping for breath.
Dying wish never granted.
Trembling body
Lifeless eyes
This is how they all died
Nov 2015 · 415
Ms.Brown eyes
Love-An intense feeling of deep affection.*
Secrets exchanged between the glances we share. Brown. The color i long to see looking back at me when my day can't seem to go right. The color i long to dive into, to feel all around me. Dear Ms. Brown eyes, you have me enthralled, longing for you to merely say hello. Brown, the color that feels like warmth and the safety in what we call home. Like a pirate i will adventure into the abyss of this thing we call love.
Vulnerable-susceptible to physical or emotional attack or harm.
I stood there as naked as could be but yet fully clothed and i begged you to love me, to love me in the now. To love me forever and you whispered like the sound of snowflakes  when falling that you would be there for as long as your heart would let you. You said "being this close is not what i do i cannot promise of forever"
Dear Ms.Brown eyes, i'm slowly melting like the last snowman in the transition from winter to summer i'm yours to hold. Summer....Will that be our deadline? Brown, the color of love. The color i have learned is my new favorite color and its all because you smiled at me and your eyes did all the talking as if we were on the dancefloor letting nothing but our bodies do the conversating. Dear Ms.Brown eyes, is it safe to say this will be our happily ever after?
A kind of love poem one cant seem to write, shes driving me crazy with the perfection she seems to be
Nov 2015 · 126
Depression letter
Dear depression,
*********
A poem in itself. I was told to post by a close friend of mine
Nov 2015 · 479
Fantasy
The darkness was our safety , my fingertips leaving the trail of promises along your body. I had you in my arms for a night to make you feel loved and maybe that's what making love with someone feels like I've never really known if that's true or not. My hands lingered and I left my fingerprints on your body, bruises of a love we just can't understand. The evidence of that night no matter how many times you try to wash it off its still there its in your veins, your quickening breath. My body shaking trying to keep the distance of what I will do as to not make you feel used. Kisses were planted among the garden your body holds and dear god I want to go back. To let the flowers that are blooming between us graze along my skin like my lips did against yours. To make your knees weak and eyes dance with excitement . I know how to love you right so put me to the test.
Nov 2015 · 373
Transgender
Transgender: denoting or relating to a person whose self-identity does not conform to conventional notions of male or female gender.
My mom told me I shouldn't be trent I shouldn't be him. I shouldn't exist.  I shouldn't take testosterone for the rest of my life. . She told me if I go through with it she could not feel comfortable around me as if I'm Satan himself clawing my way through her child's body taking up the space and making her fear for her life. By the age of five I knew something was different with me Barbie's weren't my friends those imaginative dreams were locked away and grown out of. Age 12 I knew I shouldn't be looking at the girls this way. They way a guy looks at a girl or vice versa but she was like a goddess. I begged myself to stop liking girls that it was nasty because growing up in a house that is deeply embedded in a church they make comments that hurt you because your everything they don't want you to be. Age 13 my mom told me to go after that guy because he could treat me right. I listened and ended up with a cut down the side of my face. Age 16 I came out halfway. Told my parents I was merely bisexual tried to play the feminine part but every time I looked in the mirror I saw the man who hid  in the rocking chair where my heart was suppose to be. He wanted out but I snuffed him out like the flame of a candle. Age 17 I couldn't take living in a lie I proclaimed I am Trent and girls are my weakness. They told me It was merely because I was sexually assaulted and wanted to have power and become the man who took mine away. First month out I cut my hair and changed what I wore my smile grew and confidence boosted this is who I am. Second month out they don't accept it wrapped their hands like vines over my mouth and told me its just a phase keep him in. They didn't hear me when I was in the bathroom tying ace bandage around the ******* upon my body I can't make disappear. When my ribs cracked they scoffed and said what a beautiful girl you are. Age 18 I will move out start college, begin counseling so I can be put on testosterone. Age 19 my voice will deepen my face will look just one step closer to manly. Age 21 I will get my associates degree go to my second college and continue my cure for not being able to be the daughter they wanted. Age 23, I will be shot, *****, brutally attacked because of who I am . my name will be added to the statistics and I will go unremembered. My killer will get off with a free get out of jail card and my body will rot. The body I have grown to love because its mine it is me.  its not fair I have to glue my mouth shut because your not comfortable with who I am. And instead of talking about it like adults they will have killed me for being myself.
A compilation from my other two
Nov 2015 · 251
My promise
Darling I will open my arms to you and in doing so I will open every empty space inside this foreign body and I will be your safe haven to crawl to. Lover, I will be the one to dry your eyes after a really long cry and tell you " I still think your beautiful" I know your not religious but somehow I've found my religion in you god or whoever is out there made you and was thinking of how good wed fit. We can balance each other out like the zodiac sign you are. The scales will never tip too far one way than another. I will give you my heart and you can put it in the jar I saw on your desk and tell yourself "I'm saving it for later" and when  you get lonely at night you can watch itlike a nightlight that keeps you safe from what hides in the dark. My words of adoration can't stop spilling through my tightly pressed lips and stiff moving fingers.
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