I'm in the middle
of crying
and trying.
Trying to be the girl
who makes herself happy without you,
the girl who can survive the whole day
without seeing you
and
the girl who can live her life to the fullest
without you.

But maybe it's true
that I should not just try,
instead I should do

I should do it
for myself
for my life
not for you
or anyone
but for me

Because after all
it's always gonna be my choice,
my life, and
my heart.

pouring my heart out to your email at night –
it just doesn’t feel right
the love, the lust, the tears, the fright
is it really worth my time?
tell me it’s worth being apart
tell me it’s worth being torn apart
by the time and the silence
and all the secrets you keep in your heart.


but even if it’s not worth my time,
nothing you can say will keep me from being by your side.

Caring for you was all I did
Even though I risked something that I should not have
Rare is what you are
A person who I never thought I could fall inlove with
Lost the time and made me forget sadness
Didn't make me feel unwanted
Even so, you still left me with scars that will never heal
Kisses that will never be forgotten
Everything is different
Now strangers that were once coherent

I wrote a poem for my English class and my teacher said he didn't like it.

I wasn't mad because I got a bad grade, I was mad because what if I wasn't strong enough to look past his opinion and keep writing? What if that one negative comment made me quit altogether and never share a single word again?

What if he ruined my future because he couldn't look past his idea of what a poem should be?

A poem does not have to rhyme or end with closure or even make sense to everyone who reads it.

A poem simply has to reach part of someone's soul who had no idea that these were the words they had been waiting to hear and these were the words that were meant to save them.

This is what a poem is, not a grade from a teacher or a rhyme in a book. A poem is a method of coping and a way to understand the world with ease.

I wrote a poem for my English class and my teacher said he didn't like it. But I am stronger than he thinks, and I will continue to write poems that he does not like and I will continue to love them in spite of his opinion.

is this how our story ends?
with you forgetting
and me regretting?

is this how our story ends?
with our song not sung anymore,
our rings not worn anymore?

is this how our story ends?
with you and someone new
while i'm stuck in the same old shoe?

is this how our story ends?
i'd hate for it to be
but now you look free
so bad as it is
must i accept this
*it is how it ends

As the winter nights became colder, so did you