I live in the unfortunate reality
where death does not always mean mortality
where we must constantly question morality
and the people are turning to brutality

I have been told
I speak too much
to be ignored.

At home,
I replay my day,
wincing
at every door my mouth opened
that maybe should've stayed shut.

Writing is the only room
where I am not wrong
for filling the air.

Today,
a someone said
I am good with words.
She doesn't usually read
other people's captions-
but she reads mine.

One small compliment
and I am lighter.

Maybe my words are wanted,
maybe they are not noise.
Maybe I am not
too much.

set sail and trust
in providence

with beauty
in abundance

You don't need me
but I need you
You don't like me
but I like you

You don't know that
but what if you do
would you like me or not?
would you see me or not?
would you need me or not?

would it make a difference?
would it change your preference?
I guess probably not

the thoughts
they just keep on racing,
like they're all competing --
winner gets the reward of
tears flowing.
emotions non-stop.
no runner ups.

and they wont stop.
why wont they stop?

never believed in angels till the day that i met you
with your long blonde hair and your eyes so blue
took my breath away my heart it skipped a beat
you were the angel that im about to meet

we went for stroll all along the sand
beneath the moon above  we held each others hand
took the soul in me to another place
way up high above floating into space

now i believe in angels know that they are true
i fell in love with one the day that i met you
took my breath away my heart it skipped a beat
you were the angel i was about to meet

I will die for you,
lie for you,
get naked, and sprawl my heart
wide   for   you.

There is no knife that cuts my skin

Just too many bright reflections

Good words are screaming from within

And blood might help confessions

I’ve read so many similar words on here

In some weird way that fills me with fear

I can understand it’s romantic, I guess

But for once in my life I wish to hear less

Little red drops, they won’t help the pain
Big chunky bracelets on your wrist

It makes you feel like you’re insane

Yet still you remain, and still you insist