Trying new things is scary, and being brave enough to give if your all is hard.
But I did it.
I spent hours drawing him, and it was perfect.
He didn't seem to care.
I tried to take pride in my art but when he treated it as mediocre I just felt disappointed and stupid.
It was even more of a let down since I expected it to be met with enthusiasm.
But he barely gave it a second glance.
I wonder if I'll ever muster the courage to try again.
I really hope so.

He loves me
I think our definitions of love keep changing
And that's my favorite part
I love him more now than I did 6 years ago
I love him more now than I did 3 months ago
Maybe even a few days ago
Our knowledge of love grows as we do
And we never stop growing
I paid for our relationship with a part of me that didn't work in it
I don't feel a sense of loss anymore
I love myself as I am now more than I did before I was his
I love who he is with me now more than I loved him 6 years ago, before he had fully become mine
I guess that's the point
We sacrificed the incompatible parts of ourselves because we loved eachother more than ourselves
I love him more than myself
He loves me more than himself
So we changed for eachother
We trimmed off the dead parts
We died and were born new
Sometimes it even feels like we became eachother
Our love feels ancient, safe, and warm
I am happy
My soul feels complete
I married you
I will love you forever

My aversion to sleep is ironic.
I would love to be sleeping right now.
It's just... that constant, unavoidable, uncomfortable consequence.
Waking up.
Sleep is a painless high, and waking up is a bucket of cold water.
Everyday I allow myself to be doused with reality.
Wouldn't death just be a high you never have to wake from?

I'm lying awake
My body is still
The silence is loud
I just took a pill
I'm trying to be patient
As I wait for sleep
But gut twisting emotions
Pierce me deep
I'm writing as an excuse
To not succumb
To put off waking up
I don't want to see the sun

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder
I can appreciate the beauty in everyone now that I'm older
When I was in my young teens I marvelled at cookie cutters
But my eyes now crave to take in all sorts of shapes sizes and colors

That girl doesn't look a bit like kim k
but her smile is so genuine it takes your breath away
She isn't a perfect hourglass and her eyes aren't baby blue
But in the light her brown eyes look like flowing honey and her body is soft and true

We learn to label certain things as better than others to the point of a fault

People will call a girl ugly because her nose isn't small enough or her ***** aren't the right size
I only regret that sooner I didn't open my eyes

Caress my cool soft skin
Over my abdomen
There is beauty in the female form, I now realize
I see it reflected in your eyes
I feel power exuding from myself
As you gaze at me, afterwards.
I bask in the power I have to pull your attention
And I gaze back.
Lost in our infinite moment of serene bliss

They try to control the power we have
but we rule over men when we undress
We carry an ancient beauty that is mysterious and frightening
Perfection in the curves of our flesh

Waiting on your ring
Your silence is deafening
Tick. Tock. Maddening.

It’s not that I’m afraid to go to sleep, it’s that I'm afraid of waking up
I don’t like the feeling of realizing I was just dreaming that stuff
Because I miss her
And she haunts my dreams
And in them I apologize, and she accepts me
And everything becomes as I know it was meant to be
And finally, I am granted some peace
But then I wake up
And I realize that never happened
I realize I can’t talk to her anymore
I lost my chance when that man killed a *****
I lost my chance when I cut her off and ignored
I lost it when she finally unfollowed me after 3 years of waiting on me
I lost it when she stopped posting photos, and I couldn’t check on her, make sure she still breathes
I will never forgive myself for pretending that I didn’t care
I will live on with the vile knowledge that I betrayed her

I don’t remember when my state of mind stopped depending on me.
I am empty and am filled by the state of the world outside of me.
If the weather is warm and bright I feel warm and full of light.
If it is cold I feel cold inside.
If it is dark I feel like I am already dead.
If it is 5 am and no one is conscious I am lonely.
My feelings are no longer trustworthy. I don’t own them.
I don’t control them.
I am no longer myself.

You must still exist
In another dimension
I'll see you again

I’ve never been in control of my feelings.
They drop on me like a pile of bricks.
And I am too weak to carry them. They overtake me.
The only thing in the world that is powerful enough to give me respite:
Is a good book.
I become lost in the story, and I can forget my pain.
I am enabled to leave this world and enter a happier one.
But now I read the same few comforting novels over and over.
Because I am terrified of reading ones that I can’t immerse myself in.
Terrified that my one means of escape will prove as pointless and empty as real life.