Wherever you are,
I'll always be by your side.
I'll always hear your voice.
I'll make sure you never will cry.

Wherever you are,
I'll love you unconditionally.
I promise you this.
Sealed with a kiss.

Wherever you are,
I'll make sure you're alright.
I'll always sing you lullabies.
I'll make sure you smile every night.

Wherever you are,
I'll carry your problems on my shoulders.
I'll always make you smile.
Especially when you walk down that aisle.

Wherever you are,
I'll never say goodbye.
I'll make sure you're safe.
I'll cuddle you all the time.

Wherever you are,
I'll make an oath.
To love you forever.
Our love will never sever.

Chocolate coloured eyes.
Mesmerise me every time.
Your cherry red lips.
Your moonlight glow.

Everything about you makes my heart swell.
It's twice as big.
I can feel it pound.
Every beat resonating.

Is this a teenage dream?
You make me so warm inside.
My face goes red.
And that's only when we talk.

Even though we're worlds apart.
I can feel you near me.
The sky we see is not the same.
But that's okay.

I can take a white rocket.
Go wherever you are.
The clouds and stars in the sky.
Are nothing compared to the beauty you are.

Every time you smile, a love song plays.
You do something crazy to me.
I try to hide what I feel.
But I can't whenever I'm with you.

I don't usually write poems.
Not for other people, at least.
But for you, I'll write these words.
My soul imprinted on your screen.

You mean so much to me.
Calling me something tame like "Cutie" kills me.
Do you not realise how much power you have?
You're the reason I wake up in the morning.

The seasons will change.
But my love will stay the same.
My feelings haven't lingered this long before.
So just read these words before I forget how to say them.

Photos beyond photos.
Pictures of my heart.
Exposing my insides.
Everything I live for.

You left me rose.

I take pictures and make sure to smile.
I'm popular, now.
Is it because you're not around?
It's colder without you.

It was stupid to fall for someone I can't have.
You don't like me like that, I know.
But I still can't let you go.
I water that rose, every single night.

Did I tell you? I got a boyfriend.
He's popular, and I don't really like him.
It's okay, I guess.
He likes my photos.

He plays with my hair and makes me smile.
He smiles in the photos I take.
Okay, so it might be good.
But I still miss you.

I don't know about the scandal between your parents.
Your personality.
I'm sorry you had to go through it all.
I would've helped if I could've.

My photos start to blur.
The rose is wilting.
This guilt is eating me up.
But my boyfriend is here, right?

Hey, today he hit me.
It hurt y'know!
If you were here you could've helped.
I'm sorry.

He started smoking.
I don't really like the smoke.
It's not good for the rose, either.
Still missing you.

He burnt my photos today.
I'm getting a bit scared.
But he loves me, it's okay.
The rose is looking better.

Where did you even get this rose?
Why did you give it to me?
Is it really important?
Thank you, I suppose.

He put his cigarette out on me.
I cried today.
He loves me.
Why is he hurting me?

He won't stop.
The rose is getting sicker.
No matter how much I water it.
Help me.

The rose looks like ash.
I'm not too much better, to be fair.
All my photos are gone.
I leave you these notes.

I stilllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll

Everywhere I go.
I get foul looks.
Looks of pity.
None I care for.

"His parents..."
"He's gay?"
Yes.
Yes.

I sit at the television.
Flipping through channels.
The broadcasts.
The audience.

The bruises that mark my skin.
"******* loser."
"Not even going to fight back?"
Are a reminder of my trauma.

I'm friends with the colorbars on the television.
The red, yellow, green and blue.
The black, white and grey hues.
The static that seems to scream my name.

I am left with a single rose.
I don't know where it came from.
Or where it goes.
But it's my rose.

I can't take the beatings any longer.
I'm sorry to her, my best friend through this all.
I can't do this anymore.
I can't do anything.

I engrave my skin.
Line by line.
Until three deep strokes mark my wrist.
I feel dizzy but don't sleep.

She asks me where I've been.
I hide my wrists and smile at her.
She looks at the bruises on my face.
She angrily frowns.

I'm sorry to her, my best friend through it all.
It's just too hard.
I can't hold on.
So I leave you my rose.

The flower beside your bed.
The bright red rose that stained everything.
Crimson gushes from my wrists, from my neck.
It tastes metallic.

I'm happy now.
I smear it all over the TV screen.
Now I can become one with my friends.
Come on, play with me.

Red and white dotted fabric.
I spin around in my chic new dress.
My husband kisses me goodbye.
I iron out the clothes.

Stitch.
Sew.
Cut.
Pull.

Warm, homecooked meals.
We dine as a tune from our youth plays on the radio.
He places a rose on my empty plate.
I smile.

Thimbles coat my fingers.
I stick pins in fabric and sew it up together.
I feel a thud in my stomach.
I iron out the clothes.

He welcomes me home with gifts.
My baby boy is fast asleep.
My husband is slowly coming home later and later.
He hasn't noticed the holes in my arm.

I drink another shot, smiling at my sleepy baby boy.
My husband isn't home.
I pop my pills.
And I iron out the clothes.

The medicine isn't working anymore.
I can't stop his screaming.
Shut up.
Shut that child up.

My husband is yelling at me.
What did I do wrong?
He tears my new dress.
I iron out the clothes.

My baby won't stop crying.
Stop, please.
My husband is never home.
My head hurts.

I throw the pills down the drain.
I shakily brandish a knife.
I breathe.
And iron out the clothes.

Crimson splattered across walls.
An old tune from our youth plays on the radio.
My husband isn't breathing.
My baby boy stopped crying.

I feed my child and put him to sleep.
I sleep.
I spin around in my green and white polka dotted dress.
The fabric tearing at the seams.

I iron out the clothes.
The fabric.
The rope.

I leave a rose next to my child and stand up.
This necklace fits perfectly.
I take a bow in front of the mirror.
Don't I look pretty?

I kick the furniture.
Dancing midair.
My hair falls to my face.
I iron out the

I walked through the valley
Longing for the warmth of home
I passed the thorny road
Engraving my feet with their thorns
Destined to guide myself home
I fought my way through and conquered many obstacles.

As fierce and brute my appearance seems
Many would consider me gentle and kind
Never would I lose my honor
Or hurt anyone, I swear!
Telling the truth in a world of lies.

Still, I wandered alone at night
Through the valley I loathed
Returning home past the lake,
Origin of love and courage
Never would I yield, nor
Grief over my mistakes.

I faced the countless lies thrown at me
After all, I did not meet my demise
Many would have suffered despair
Not a single thing complied
Over the thin air and frigid snow
The thin air that lingered through the pass.

Greatness ensued the men succeeding me
Enamoured with pride, in fervent passion
Never would they break the morale
That was built through my strength
Leaving them behind was no option
Eventually they would reach the promised land.

I watched the legions from above
Generations of trust and power
Achieved things man could not imagine
Victorious cries and shouts
Elated return to our motherland
Us, the victorious warriors
Pursuing the dream of infinite strength.

It was all an illusion from the start.