You are warmth
You are light
You are strong
You are brave,
But you don't have to be.
You don't have to be,
Not with me.

And i am fearful,
And i am shaking and shaky.
And i hate saying it,
But i am fragile and scared,
But not in the way you see me as.

I can be stronger
I can stand taller
I can be brave.
If only for you.

You called me a thief, but i'm just a survivor,
I'm a fighter.

I've spent my years
Fighting for my life
Or fighting for nothing,
And they ended up being
The same.

Because i came out
Swinging,
And though i was
A little less
Than the best,
I came out with a black eye
And a split lip.

You, being the light that drives me
Should be aware
That though
I love you so,
I'm stronger than you know.

And within my dream
I recall,
The ferocity of which I could
Only really growl,
"Leave him alone,"
An "Or Else." bleeding through
My tone.

And the images of
Those that have granted me
Only nightmares
Flashed before my eyes
And I realized
My own sins
Have made theirs seem greater.

I know what lies look like,
I know how they read.

Hatred makes a truth
Twisted and convoluted,
Makes you see double the pain,
Double the anguish.

It exaggerates hurt,
And lengthens the scars.

I am aware of this,
For I do not speak
My hatred's names.

I  dreamt of fire last night,
I dreamt of flames.

But you are the cold winds,
You are the rain.

I need the rain,
To **** the fire
That burned at my flesh,
At the raw parts of my heart.

And so you did.

I am an introvert.
I rebuild myself from silence.
I isolate myself when I'm upset.
I recharge all my stores of energy when I'm alone.

But I am also very bad at being an introvert (just like how I am very bad at most things, especially things that make up key parts of who I am).

I do not like being alone.
I cannot successfully live in a quiet house.

I need some type of noise to soothe my constantly-buzzing subconscious.

I have,
For the most part,
Been the truest type of alone
For the majority of my life.


But I can't keep it up.

I am alone all the time.
Pretty much everyday,
And I wouldn't be surprised
If it turned into every night, as well.

I am always by myself.
I always have been.

I don't think I can do this-- any of this-- alone anymore.

But I don't really have much of a choice.

“What we had went so much deeper than a kiss.
When we were together, she turned me completely inside out. It didn’t matter if we were dead or alive. We could never be kept apart. There were some things more powerful than worlds or universes. She was my world, as much as I was hers. What we had, we knew.
The poems are all wrong. It’s a bang, a really big bang. Not a whimper.
And sometimes gold can stay.
Anybody who’s ever been in love can tell you that.” –pg. 421 of Beautiful Redemption by Kami Garcia and Margaret Stohl.

And didn't you know
That this is how I've always felt about you,
And my most fantastic dream
Wasn't a type of fairy tale *******,
It was laughing and working through problems.
It was my understanding you
And you understanding me,
And it astounds me
That even at the worst
We've found it.

And nothing can keep me from you,
Because red strings don't work like that.
I am meant to be yours
Just as you're meant to be mine.

No one can ever
Tell me otherwise.

Let there be worlds between us,
Let there be trials and tribulations
Of the most dangerous and detrimental kind,
And I promise I will find you,
Each and every time.

Because you don't just walk away from someone,
Love isn't about the times when keeping on is easy--
It's about when it's the hardest thing to do.
And I will do it,
Through and through.

Nothing is what it seems.
You've got me coming undone
At the seams,
Me and my bruised knees.
But fleeting warmth
Is such a tease.
Stay just a little longer,
Please?

There's a certain kind of walk,
That comes with a certain kind of talk.
I think it's pointless,
But that doesn't mean it's not
Worth a shot.

I try so hard
To dress you in poetry,
But you just don't
Fit the imagery.
And I get eaten up
By jealousy and insecurities--
No, not lately.

I'm so distressed,
But I just can't express
How to resolve it,
But I can't absolve it.

I'd be clever
If I endeavored
Towards the pleasure
Of you and I
Together.

But I never claimed to be clever,
So it doesn't matter whether
Or not,
But I'll give it a shot.

I am the light pooled on the floor,
And you've found me here before.
You just didn't know,
But here we go:

If you take the pain out of love,
Love doesn't exist.
But we're flying up and above,
And I fly higher each time we kiss.

But look where the ocean meets the skyline,
And we're not so different,
Because as long as we're under the same sky,
I think we'll be okay.

Take up the orange-red of the sunset,
And soak in the sun drenched yellow
That makes up the sidewalks I used to wait around on,
And the colors of a sea and sky I've never known,
And together,
Almost overwhelmingly so,
It'll make something beyond compare.

I have been told bravery has nothing to do with
A lack of fear.
Bravery is being afraid,
Acknowledging the potential for danger,
And going in headlong anyway.

So I guess it makes me brave,
Getting back up,
Moving forward,
And holding your hand.

Do not rely on patterns,
Or mathematical probability,
Or scientific fact.

Patterns **** up.
Mathematical probability can be miscalculated,
And scientific fact can be proven wrong,
Upon another finding.

I close my eyes and I see storms rolling in,
And ignore the smell of rain on the wind,
Because I could be struck by lightening a thousand times,
And I'd still rather that than

Losing
You.

And suddenly there's a song in the background
(Thanks, autoplay.)
That makes me realize
(Ever so slowly, as my fingers slow in pace on the keyboard)
This isn't just my being lucky enough
To have you.
A life without you
Seems a lot less vibrant
As I struggle to picture
The juxtaposition
Of a life by your side
And a life without.

And maybe the fear
Of becoming yours
And becoming attached
Is more like my fear of heights
Than my fear of the dark.

It isn't heights I'm afraid of.
It's falling from them.

I'm not afraid of being part of your life,
Of living a life with you by my side,
I'm frightened by a life without you there.

I'm a whole person,
Don't get me wrong.
But there's a part of me
That's easier to show to you
Than for me to see,
And I like who I am
With you,
Better than the person I am
Without you.

I am a better me,
Because of my Bluebird.

I know I'm a little disjointed,
A little matter-of-fact,
Not too swift on the uptake.
Part of it could be repressing the good parts of life for so long,
The other part could be being blind to them,
For so very long.

We sit in your kitchen.
you're playing on your phone,
and you don't know, do you?

my nightmares
as of late,
are mostly about losing you.

I can handle pain.
I've been beaten and bloodied.
I cannot handle
the feeling of complete desolation
of my heart
that is losing you.

but I do not fear it,
for sins do not hold to fear
with great power.

no, rather than focusing on the fear,
I will allow you further
within the walls you have not seen closed,
yet.

I do not wish to shut you out,
but my survival instinct
screams that I'm letting you in
too far
that you know
too much.

that I should not
trust.
slow to trust
quick to love,
I have always been this way.

but trusting you is too easy,
it just happens.
it's natural,
child's play.

you don't even know,
do you, Bluebird?

the way I look at you
the way I've torn open my ribcage
to show you every dark, vulnerable part?
everything scarred and broken.

it's yours
and no one elses.

but I can't help but to think
I've shown you too much.

too many shadows.
too many scars.

I have too much baggage
and too much fear
I do not
carry it well.

It's always
One or the other
For my sisters
And my brothers,
It's always one
Or the other,
But not for me,
Standing here with broken wings.

I fly a little awkwardly,
A little off-balance,
And it's a little upsetting
To your matter-of-fact
Way of flight,
But please, oh, please?
Can't you see
My little light?

It is small
And a little fractured
But it bobs to-and-fro
In the shadow.

With you it's always
One or the other.
For my sisters
And my brothers,
Under your thumb,
It's always one or the other.

The only wiggle room
Is meant for you,
But it's high noon,
And I'm done with it too.

Maybe I'm just not
Worth your time anymore,
I've been a disobedient pet--
But if that's how you see me,
Then you really don't know me yet.

With you it's always
One or the other,
So I guess I'll just fall back on another.
Because it's always
One or the other,
Guess I'll find a better
Mother.

If you had waited for me
Just a little longer
These angelic wings
Could have
Been yours
Too.

"Yeah, I came out swinging,
But I still came out with two black eyes
And a split lip."

And I close my eyes
And face my demons,
And I see them
And I cower
But they see it in my eyes,
I came here looking for a fight.

So it's a fight they put up.

I'll destroy my insecurities,
I'll face off with my feelings,
And I'll go to battle
With the blood I've spilled
And the mistakes I've made.

All my fears
Will try to eat me alive,
But each and every scar I bare,
Each and every beat of my heart
Proves I'm alive.

And as long as I'm alive,
I'll come out swinging,
Each and every time.

"So.."

I look up from my book, and sigh.

Here it comes.

"What are you?"

"O positive."
I sigh out,
And look back down at my book,
Begrudgingly.

That could have been a comment on my clothes--
Mostly black. No real intention for anything, but it always gives off the wrong impression.

It could have been my complexion,
My features.
My parents have always told me
I don't look quite entirely white
Even though I am.
My eyes and hair are too dark,
My skin too olive.

Most people mistake me for having
Some type of Asian in me.
I don't,
But that's everyone's first conclusion.
The next is
"What type of white?"
If I answer their question honestly.
"The pasty kind."
I get irritated and grit my teeth.
They ask, "Are you some type of middle eastern?"

"No," I roll my eyes. "Irish and Sicilian."

A Princess Bride joke
Or a joke about the potato famine.

"Yeah, haha, whatever."
Forced laughter,
Fake cutesy smile.

"So,"

They always start in.

I've learned to grin and bear it.

Thank God I know my blood type.

Sometimes I'm blind--
No, literally.
And in those moments I'm so overwhelmed
By the bleak darkness
I forget how vibrant
Your laugh is.

But when I remember,
When I remember your laugh
And your smile
And the light within your eyes,
Dear God,
I forget how beautiful seeing is,
Because it pales in comparison.

If i could change
things
I would.

if I could
fix
the past
I would.

maybe I would be more whole.
maybe I would be more me.
but instead i cannot.
instead i am here.

i want to be more
i want to be better.
i want to be
worth all the effort
you put into us.

and there will be fleeting
moments of our meetings
where I'll believe
i am.

if only you knew
the hell I've seen
the monster I've been.

if i could show
you every part of me
all the guilt and all the shame
and the insane parts
i try so hard to mask
i would.

but i am afraid
you will not love
the being beneath the shell
I've constructed.

you'll be gone soon
and there will be a hole in my heart
until you return.

i am sorry for my paranoia
and i am sorry for being so scared.

i remember
when i first told my mom that i love you
i cried out of fear.

but none of that matters.
for you, i will be brave.
and for you,
i will be patient.

So it's scary telling you all these things
About me.

But with your eyes
Locking onto mine
And my voice
Trilling around your name,
And your breath
Curling around the word
"Hummingbird"
In reference to me,
And my hands in your hair,
Lulling you into relaxation,
And your hand on my knee,
Keeping me grounded,
Or your arms around my torso,
Keeping me safe in a warmth
Within your soul

It's like fireworks
Or symphonies
Bursting into ambition
To keep going
To keep trying
To keep being.

Being near you
Is like being near something radioactive,
But the only thing radiating off
Is complete and total
Bliss.

And if you plugged me into
A polygraph,
And asked me if I thought we'd make it
To forever,
My answer would simply be:
"Of course I do."

But take out the polygraph,
And my answer will be
"Boy, do I hope so."

'Cause I'm not gonna jinx it,
But I think we'll make it,
I think we'll make it
Because we're fireworks
And symphonies
And silent nights watching stars
And nights staying up late
Either laughing or kissing or talking about things that get a little too deep
To parts that still sting.

And I wouldn't trade loving you
For fireworks we never got to see.
And I'd rather listen to your rhythmic breathing
When you sleep,
Than see the lights and colors of
Explosions in the sky.

I'd rather your kiss take my breath away,
Than any music or light show.

Your eyes make me melt
And that's a feat in itself,
'Cause I'm pretty cold.

And I hope I can make
You feel the same.

I was so scared to open up
To anyone
And now here we are,
I'm baring all that I am
And I'm scared it won't be taken well,
But these are the soft, vulnerable parts of me.

Take care please,
I bruise easily.

1 - The number of times I've been livid because of you and nobody else. Wow, this is new.

2 - The number of people that check in on me consistently. (Here's a hint, it's you and it's my best friend.)

3 - The number of almost-but-pretty-close-to melt downs I've had this week.

4 - How many times I check my phone within an hour to see if you've responded, when I know you haven't responded.

5 - How many times I've been to the doctor's in the past two months.

6 - On a scale of one to ten, ten being the worst, how ****** I feel.

7 - the amount of scars on my left hand.

8 - How often a single thought of you can make me smile within a span of ten minutes.

9 - How many times I've realized I shouldn't be upset but I still am because I miss you **** it and I just want to talk to you, especially since I feel like I've been hit by a bus.

10 - Approximately how many hugs I need right now, going up by the hour.

I hate the way you smile when you talk about her,
I hate the way you look forlorn when you think about what you did.
I hate that I wasn't there to be part of what you were.
I hate that I'm always second best, always outdid.

I hate the way I melt when our eyes meet.
I hate the way the toxins disperse.
I hate the way your eyes make my voice sweet,
I hate the way I make it so much worse.

I hate that I see love in your colors,
And I hate that I don't know if its' mine,
Or if its' others.
But I love the way those colors shine.

But most of all I hate that I can't hate you, even if I had to.
Because it's true. I have always loved you.

I really hope that
no matter how far the distance
between us
that my heart will always be yours
and that yours will always be mine.

I really hope that
we can always never grow up together.
and that you'll always find me
in my darkness
and that I may always find you
in yours.

I hope you know
you'll always be my person,
my light, and my Bluebird.
even if I seem lost to you,
I will forever be yours,
and no one elses.
I always have been,
and always will be.

anyone who tries to say otherwise
can ******* fight me.

The people that I always tend to be--
Uh, well, to be it lightly--
Better than,
Always assume I'm sheltered.

That I cannot possibly be so kind,
I cannot possibly be so sweet,
I cannot possibly be so, ugh, cute,
And have had something terrible happen to me.

I always love correcting them.
"You're right," I begin.
My voice sweet like honey.
"I have no had something terrible happen to me."
I go on to inform them that it's
"I've had multiple somethings. With an S. Plural."

They usually scoff, and that's when my laugh becomes bitter,
And sly.
Not like dark chocolate,
No, still too sweet.

Bitter like dry swallowing too many pills because the memories won't let up.
Bitter like the glue on the back of the tape that's over your mouth.
Bitter like the smell of sawdust.
Bitter like pain.

They assume they can read me,
Know me.
That I'm this nice, shy girl.

And they're not wrong.

But I'm shy because of my Generalized Anxiety Disorder.
And I'm nice,
Because I refused to let my C-PTSD taint who I am.
I refuse to let it make me cruel.

But these people,
Who have proven by their actions and words
That my occasionally self-loathing, mentally-ill self
Is actually better than,
Love to downplay me.
Love to call me sheltered.

But I guarantee
If they have been through
What I had been through
They wouldn't be half as
Kind
Sweet
And, UGH, cute.

And that in itself
Is a strength.

I can't
Breathe
I can't
Feel
The pain in my wrists
Makes my guts twist
And I cannot breathe
I cannot feel
Anything but
This anxiety
That eats me up.

Because I can't help it,
I feel sick,
I can barely lift my fingers to type,
I'm drenched in fever sweat
And cold chills
But I feel so guilty
I feel so bad

What can I say
What can I do?

I can't calm down.
I need to breathe,
But I cannot.

Why breathe
Why need
There's no purpose
No reason
I can't change
it
I can't fix
It
And I was wrong
And I am right
But what do I do
Nothing makes sense

Help.

I love that we work.
I love when you make mention of
The fact that we work.
I love that you make it obvious you care,
I love that you appreciate when I do the same.

My main attributes
Are kindness
And fierce loyalty.

Yours seem to be
Stubborn dedication
And honesty.

And it seems
To me
That you don't believe in much
But you believe in us.

People have a way
Of finding their way into my life.
They also have a way
Of finding the door
Before I can find
Their hearts.

But you found my heart
Immediately
And when I found yours
I made it my home.

You don't believe in fated love.
But you do believe in true love.
And, I suppose it's important
That I make mention
That you think/know
That I am your true love.

Fated love being
Someone you must love
That it's been written in stone
That you love them.

True love being
Someone who you love more than anything, that you always will love.

If that's what I am to you,
Then that's enough
For me.

I'm floundering
Here in darkness.

I aspire to be perfect.
But I'll never reach it.

You used to call me perfect,
And I knew then too
That it was just a syrupy sweet lie,
Whether you knew it or not.
It was comforting nonetheless.

So I'm not so fond of the latter,
So let's find something a little more doable,
And I'm sorry if I don't seem amicable,
But let's get the ball rolling.

I can write
And I can fight,
And let's just pretend I've got the gall,
But I'm not so on the ball,
To be honest,
But let's get this started
I promise, I'm trying my best.

I love you dearly,
I love you sincerely,
And nightmares leave me gasping,
Suffocating,
And your kind words
And voice,
It's like oxygen to lungs deprived of air.

I can breathe again,
And suddenly I'm okay,
And the tension in my shoulders
Loosens ever so slightly,
And the burning pain in my muscles
Stops,
Because peace has finally been found,

Within the heart of a Bluebird
I am lucky enough
To call my own.
I'll never have to face
These demons alone,
And for that I am grateful,
Entirely and truly.

Manic Depression means a lot of things.
It means when I'm up, I'm way up.
It means when I'm down, I'm way, way down.

My PTSD makes me *** repulsed,
And my manic depression gives me an excess desire for ***,
And my demisexuality makes me only want that
With you.

With manic depression,
There's lots of unwanted thoughts,
And destruction on my self esteem,
And a false sense of superiority all at once.

And my generalized anxiety disorder
Makes me hyper-vigilant,
And repeatedly going over unwanted thoughts.

And my major depression,
It makes me lose my appetite,
It causes slowness in my activity,
Y'know,
All that usual exhaustion.

But I guess the thing is,
If I can pick myself back up
From complex PTSD and the other plethora of things,
I guess I'll be okay.

It can be difficult, but it's the best I can do.

I can only be the best I can be,
And I'm still working on that.

Fire is something that most people with common sense tend to fear.
It only destroys, says all the rationality.
It's said that fire only leaves embers and ashes
In place of things that were once colorful and filled with life.

But I will throw caution to the wind,
Along with the thick, black smoke from my burning soul.
For the fire in your eyes
Warms the ice in my heart,
To the point that I melt into something
Pliable and warm.

The frost-filled territorial rage that devours me whole,
Is replaced by the warmth of combining two souls.

And if it is foolish
To fall for the fire in someone's eyes,
Then paint me a fool,
Then paint me burned,
For the fire in your eyes
Warms my soul
For eternity.

Why do people think cooking is feminine or weak?

I'm playing with knives
And high heat.

Waiting for the simply syrup
To heat perfectly
Or break.
Stabbing toothpicks
Into little cakes.

Getting my frustration out
But tugging and ripping apart
Blood red taffy.

But okay.
Cooking is weak.

There's nothing beautiful
about not needing anybody.
there's nothing beautiful
about being heartless.
about leaving everything
and everyone you've ever
cared for
behind.

there is something beautiful
about caring.
about the good, the bad, and the ugly
parts of loving someone.

there is something beautiful
about listening.
about recognizing the octaves of laughter,
and the rhythmic tones
of someone's speaking voice.

there is something beautiful
about the thrum of a certain heartbeat.

there is nothing beautiful
about not having a heart
at all.

Anticipation
Devours me whole
As we get closer
To when you come home.

All I want
Is to be held
Within your arms.

But you're so far,
Far from me.

And I miss you,
Your heart and soul.
All I need
Is you,
To keep me whole.

It hurts so bad
To know that
People leave
So easily
And what does it
Mean to me
That you're not here.

There's an ache in my wrists
That begs that I give in
To all this dissociation.

There's an ache
In my bones
That begs for me to give in,
To black out.

And while I have nothing
No one
To ground me
To keep me level
I refuse
To give in
To that.

So
Light me up
With the
Fire in your eyes.
Burn me up
With the warmth of your being,

All I need
All I want
Is you.

Never regret
A thing
Because at one point
It was exactly what
You wanted.

But how could I want it
If I wasn't there to
Ask for it?

And I hope
I pray
That you may
See me
As something good
Something whole
Something worthwhile.

But I have wounds and scars
And broken parts
But if you see me
Maybe I can be a better me.

I'm cold
And shaky
And fearful
Of the future.

I just want you
To stay.
I just want you
Here.

But the fire can't keep me warm
Tonight
Because I'm lost in thought
Lost in place
Trying to find
Myself
Or anything resembling that.

But whatever
Whoever
I may be
I am still lost.

And you would rather
Inhale ash
Than speak to me
In any sense deeper
Than "I love you,"

But I lose myself
In the shadows
In the wherever
Whoever

And fear burns through my skin
Boils my bones
And my marrow,
Leaving me
Less
Leaving me somewhat
Gone.

But I'm disgusted
And angry
And lost.
But that's about it.

I leave myself vulnerable
Because I wear my heart on my sleeve.
Anyone could come along
And hurt it somehow.

I leave myself vulnerable
Because I try so hard
And it hurts so bad to fail.

I leave myself vulnerable
Because I always get back up.

If you posted a cry for help,
A "I'm awake and hurting, who is up? I could really use a pick me up."
People would answer.

But would you appreciate them?
No, you wouldn't.
You've never been
That type of person.

You'd talk some sort of ****
About how they don't know
What they're doing.

You did this with friends,
With family,
With me.

And you'll continue the cycle
Until you're dying and alone.

If I did that,
People would answer,
Probably a little late,
But I'd appreciate the love and support
Nonetheless.

Because when I have an issue with someone,
I tell them.
And when someone tries to help me,
With good intentions,
I appreciate them.

I'm not saying I'm better than you,
But let's face it,
I'm a little bitter because of your lies,
And I'm still better than you.

Keep the crazy at bay,
There's not much to keep thinking highly of,
But keep your insanity
Contained
To the best of your
Ability.

I want so badly to be
As honest as I can be,
But I can't be
Because then you'll see
The real me.

I trust you entirely,
So I trust you not to run
Like the rest of them,
But I can't do that to you.

Because everyone runs.
And I can't lose you in the same way,
I can't stand the thought of losing you,
But everyone runs,
Everyone runs
Away.

Everyone goes away,
Everyone leaves
And this lump in my throat,
Won't help me plead
For you to stay,
But what's it worth?

But you say you're not going anywhere,
And I have to accept that you mean it.
But will you mean it,
Will this time be different,
If I let you see all of me?

I hate being vulnerable,
Because

Everyone runs in the end
From monsters like me,
And it hurts my heart
But who in hell cares,
Because monsters sure don't,
Because I sure don't.

(Let me tell you,
I care more than you think.)

"I go to type the URL of this site into the search-bar-typey thing (I'm so great with words.), and I type hope instead, and stare at if for a second trying not to laugh."

You asked today how many poems you'll come back to,
When you finally reach home,
Where you probably won't reach until midnight,
And I hope to God you drive safely,
And that other drivers aren't idiots.

And I'm sitting here,
And you don't know this,
But I'm scared.
Because you don't know
Exactly how many years I've laid in bed,
Bandaged hands/wrists/arms,
Regretting things beyond my control,
Myself when I was beyond my control,
Wishing someone had been there
To calm me down before I very literally
Lost my head (or more of left my head).

Wishing someone could have stayed,
'Cause when you start bleeding out at nine years old,
And coming to and having to figure out that
Meat tenderizer and coriander gets blood off shirts, carpet, and sheets.
Otherwise you need to wear red or black.
And the one person you want to tell you can't tell,
Because at ten years old you still don't know how or why it happens.

And it hit me hard today
At ******* Barrel.
When we sat outside and you touched my scars.
Because in a way you were touching a part of me
No one else has had the unfortunate circumstances
To come up upon
Besides myself.

The part of me that knew all along
That all of that sickening regret that would
Sit like a blade in my stomach,
Sinking and twisting,
Was because my scars would hurt someone else
Who never deserved to be hurt at all.

And for all my talk,
I'd never hurt anyone
Without a reason.
So to think that maybe
My scars,
Or the fact that I got that bad,
Has somehow made you feel
In a way that is painful
Or fearful
Or something,
It makes me want to *****.

This isn't self hatred.
I wasn't there.
I can't control myself if I'm not there to control myself.
I had a reason.
I was fifteen when the worst scar happened,
And very early in the year of being twenty when the worst wound happened.

Maybe I feel too much guilt.
Maybe I apologize too much.
Maybe I'm too afraid of giving in to this feeling of you and me, and us.
Maybe I'm not proper,
And I don't know how to explain myself correctly
And articulate myself very well,
But this is who I am right now.

As Soupy Campbell from the Wonder Years once said:
"I'm getting better, but it's in small steps."

And I'm so much better.
I don't think you understand.
Who I used to be
Is someone I hope you never encounter.

The tears,
The rage,
The pain.

I never want you to see me that way.

And while I do care
If you like my parents
Or if they like you,
I want you to know
I've been doing this whole life thing
Mostly on my own
For a very long time.
Support systems don't really happen for me.

It's not like being alone scares me,
It's letting someone in
So entirely
That terrifies me.

And yet it's happening anyway.

I have been searching all my life
To see if anyone can see
Beyond my facades and darkness
And rather see into it,
And find the hurt soul
Trying desperately to repair.

And I was astonished
At the fact that you
So willingly
Would see me,
And brave my shadows.
And I am so appreciative
Of the fact that you're here
To stay.

When the clouds draw near and you can't hear the shouting over your own tears, it's not going to be who you loved that destroyed you, but how much.

And even then, I promise it will have been worth it

HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO SLEEP
WITH ALL THIS POURING RAIN
AND HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO SLEEP
WITH ALL THAT NOISE
AND HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO SLEEP

When I can't sleep.
When I keep thinking
About the future
And how much I want it to be now,
And how badly I want to be
Next to you,
In your arms,
My skin against yours.

How am I supposed to sleep,
When I can't grasp your hands?

How am I supposed to sleep
When I miss you so much?

I guess I will,
I guess I will
Somehow.

But not now.
Sleep is evasive.
I'll keep searching.

I just can't with the
Lack of compassion
And I just can't with
The way the world is
And I just can't
Understand
What makes the hypocritical
Irrational
Spewing you do
Make sense.

I know neither option was good,
But the only good option
Got ******* over.
And we had hope for this world,
We had good things coming,
And say what you want
But I think compassion and caring
And thinking the best
Is much better than money
And power
And whatever is easiest for God-****-You.

There are things more important
Than money.
There are things more important
Than power and praise.

We have lost sight in that.

So I have lost faith in you, in us, in all that is human.

We, as a species, are lost.

And I just don't know
What can guide us back.

Can anything
Guide as back
On track?

Or are we doomed to repeat
The same mistakes,
The same war crimes,
The same mass genocide,
The same cruelty and hypocrisy
Over and over and over
Until we're gone and obliterated
And all that's left of humans
Of us
Is a depleting O-zone layer,
That may or may not be on its way to healing
By the time we're dead and dust.

And
I just can't
Bring myself to believe
This is it.

Sometimes I look at you,
And I can feel either end of my mouth
Pulling up
And laughter erupting
From the pit of my stomach
And through my chest
And strumming my vocal chords.

And sometimes I look at you
And I recognize that this must be
What sunshine in the dead of winter
Looks like
Embodied in a human being.

And I use that metaphor
(Sunshine, because you make me happy,)
For good reason
(Winter, because you put up barriers and sometimes you're hard to read).

And I could memorize
Your silhouette
And hold onto that memory
For months
But as much as that beautiful imagery
Would hold me over,
It wouldn't ever compare
To being within your arms,
And watching the fire burn
Within your eyes.

You crossed a line.

We were doing so much better.

You were doing so much better.

I was a fool.

You speak
And though I hear you
I am blind to the color
It makes.

You touch me
And though I feel you
I am blind to the color
It makes.

I am so proud of you,
So happy for you,
But I am blind to the color
I should be feeling.

I stare at you,
Hoping to hold onto
Your smile.
The fire in your eyes.
I memorize your laughter,
Your voice,
Your diction and inflection.

And I have nine months time
To memorize you.
To hold onto you.
To fix myself enough
That you'll want to come home.

I have nine months time,
But I'm blind to the color,
I know.

And then I'll have
Nine more months,
Give or take,
Filled with missing you.
Longing for you.
Needing you.

I memorize the lines of your face.
The shimmering blue of your eyes,
And the gold that lines your pupils.
I playback your voice, your laugh inside my head.
I stare into your colors,
And beg for them to swallow me whole,
To envelop me and deliver me from this terror.

But it can't.
Because I'm blind to your colors, too.

And it all began
with a childish glance
a type of mattering
a sense of silly faces
and caring
and playing
and able to find a balance
between the properness of age
and the fun of not acting like it.

and then it begins again
with wide open conversations
and sorting out feelings
and nervous but giddy meetings
and realizations upon handshakes and hugs,
and falling into you
the way I fell for you,
consciously, consensually, and close to immediately.

to begin the beginning
happens slowly,
and then all at once.

like the process of becoming real,
or falling in love.

and maybe that's because that's exactly what it is.

to begin again
is to become real
and to fall in love
all together.

I would love to be told
what makes me worthwhile
because it's easy to be insecure
when you refrain from telling me
anything.

cold wraps its filthy arms around me
and I shiver and shudder and my legs fall asleep
and I feel far from you
and maintaining anything negative in your general direction
is so difficult for me,
so why do I bother?

I guess I do it
because I'm scared.

What doesn't **** you
Makes you stronger,
So please,
Begs your tugging heartstrings,
Hold on just a little bit longer!

And I can feel a darkness
Eroding your brilliant light.
It weathers and breaks and fractures,
Piece by painful piece.

Your brilliant colors,
Usually a beacon of light,
A signal for me,
Constantly shouting
This is home!
Fade into thoughts that consume.

What doesn't **** you
Makes you stronger,
So please,
Whispers a soft voice,
Hold on just a little bit longer.

And when you sleep,
The darkness edging
At the corner of your mind
Recedes,
And I know this
Because, though at a lull,
Your colors gleam and glow,
The familiarity warming me.

But you've been tossing and turning,
And digging your elbows into my back,
And I know this means you're not sleeping well,
But not being able to help--
Well, it's my private hell.

What doesn't **** you
Makes you stronger,
So please,
The words just don't fit,
Hold on just a little bit longer.

And life does terrible things.
And maybe we'll never understand.
And maybe there's just too much to lose,
But I'll risk everything,
If it means loving you.

Life does terrible things,
But it's what we make of it,
Right?
And while I doubt you'll let
The darker shades grow any more
Than they have,
It's still my job to worry.

What doesn't **** you
Makes you stronger
So please
I'll ask softly,
*Just hold on a little bit longer.

Sometimes I worry
Because you're not very blatant
Or forthcoming with your words
When you tell me you love me
Or that I'm beautiful
And sometimes I have to remember
That you say these things with
Other words and actions.

Like when you kiss me on the top of my head
When you're playing video games,
Or when you listen to me
When I ask if we can do something else,
Or when we're going outside to talk
And you suggest I put on my slippers.

Or when you hold me in the morning
Before you have to go.

And maybe it's better
That you're not as wordy as I am,
Because it makes the moments
You tell me that you love me so much
Or that my smile is beautiful
So much more
Meaningful.

How you can love me
Even with my moods,
Even with my short temper,
No matter how just or unjust.
That you can love me
Almost because of my laughing at my own jokes
A little too hard,
Or finding stupid little things
A little too funny.

How you can love me,
Even when I'm too tired to properly say goodbye
To you in the morning.
When my nightmares wake me up,
And then I proceed to wake you up.
How you can love me
Maybe despite all my scars and wounds,
Or maybe even because of them.

I just find it so crazy,
That you love me.

But I've learned to accept it,
That maybe I'm worthy of the love
I keep trying to give.
That being
The unconditional,
Comforting,
Appreciative,
Finally being home,
And finally being free,
Kind of love.

And that's how you make me feel.
Worthy, and comforted, and like I'm finally home and finally free.

I couldn't be more grateful if I tried.

I have spent years
Looking into the mirror
And calling myself broken,
Damaged,
No good.

I have spent my life,
Looking into that ****** mirror,
And fully comprehending
Why people give up on me,
Why people see me as broken
Damaged
No good.

I have spent the last
One hundred and two days,
Seeing myself as
Good,
Whole,
And somewhat decent.

I have spent
The last one hundred and two days
Defending and arguing and
Contesting
Those who dare say otherwise.

I am vividly aware of my flaws,
But I am slowly becoming
Somewhat vaguely aware
Of my virtues.

And finally,
I hope one day
I can see in me
Whatever type of light it is
That you see in me.

Allow me
To find my honest parts
And show you the cracked shards.
Allow me
To dig up my heart,
As shards of broken glass.
Be careful,
The edges are sharp.

Allow me
To show you
That I am whole,
Within my scars and missing parts.

And with all your light,
I hope one day you see
Why you give me so much hope.
I hope one day you can see
The good in you
As I strive
So hard
To show you.

And please,
Allow me to ask of you,
Do not go,

For I am whole
On my own,
But the best version of me
Is with you
At my side.

Your eyes gazing into mine
leaves me breathless,
I can't look you in the eye,
the pooling of tension and fluttering butterflies in my stomach
leaves me speechless

and if I want to hold a conversation
that's no good.

and sometimes I wonder what it's like to be sane,
but then I remember
that's a life without living, a life without pain.

I'd be stupid,
but not my brand of stupid--
I'd be exponentially stupid,
stupid to the power of stupid
if I pretended to be someone I'm not.

and that's what you'd be--
stupid to the power of stupid,
if you wished I pretended to be
anything less than I am

because I've always been too much,
that's my problem.

I'm too emotional,
too needy
too affectionate
too damaged
too this
too that
too smart for my own good.

but I'm sick and tired
of wanting to be someone else
I like who I am
I won't be anybody else.

I could be better
but a better me
not a new person all together.

your eyes leave me speechless,
your words leave me breathless
and without you my heart means less
than it did before.

I wonder what you see
when you look at me
if your heart slams into your ribcage
the way mine does sometimes when I stare at you for too long
or when you touch me unexpectedly

I wonder if when you hear my voice
your stomach bursts into small fluttering sensations
or when I hold your hand
if it feels like home.

with or without my sanity
you leave me speechless
and I'm disjointed,
just like always.

I know I have been bent
Into a different shape
But sometimes it's hard to tell
If I can ever go back
To my previous shape.

And maybe I can't.

And maybe I don't want to.

Maybe my lines
Just need to be more defined
And maybe I'll be
Just fine.

I am not the same shape
I was before.
I have jagged edges
And indents and scuffs,
But I am better
As the shape I am now.

It is unfair of me to ask you
To love this shape compared to the one
You once knew.

But if you are
To find a way
To love it
The same,
Then please,
Go ahead.

"I have been bent and broken. But, I hope, into a better shape." - Charles Dickens, Great Expectations

You can do everything.

all the breathing exercises, all the mind calming techniques, all the grounding rituals, take all your meds at the appropriate times and with food, go to therapy, do the worksheets, make the changes, but you'll still falter sometimes.

and it could be anything, and you could see it coming and not even know you're seeing it.

it could be a song, a word, a noise, an action, anything.

for me it's the sound of rain on roofs.

and you'll fall back into the darkness and the hatred where you think no one can find you or pull you out again. You'll slip under the raging black sea, and let it consume you entirely
as black water
fills your lung
like rapids

and it burns but you let it happen.

because it was too quick, too sudden, for you to stop the water from drowning you.
you try to stand but you can't find your footing because there are no sandbars for you to stand on
only water.

and you thrash but sooner or later you're dizzy and your throat burns and everything is spotty and you can't think

and you're gone.

replaced by a shaking shell of the memory
of not being able to move your arms
and the thunder and rain drowning out your screams
and each blow to your head making it harder to make any noise at all
(and people wonder why you have memory issues)

and finally, when it's over
you're shaking and shivering and your sobs are so violent that they don't make any noise
you can't eat for weeks and when you do you just throw it right back up.
you can't look at your brother
or hug your father
and the disassociating gets so much worse that your arms bleed and ache almost constantly.

your "friends" worry, but not enough to do anything.
your teachers worry, but not enough to ask why.

no one ever asks, so you never tell.

and while you shake and shiver in the car
because you remember it all so well
and you just want it to stop
but you can't get enough air
and you're an absolute wreck,
there's light drifting down to you
through the murky black water.
it's bright and blue and warm
and suddenly you're on dry land
and can breathe
but you're looking into eyes made of galaxies and storms
and you're afraid if they see you this way that they'll leave,
because you're such a mess
but you can't pull it together.
but he found you, in that deep, dark water.
and he pulled you from it,
and helped you breathe again.

and you wish you could show some type of gratitude,
but you know that even if you said thank you a thousand times over,
you'd need a better word than that.

and you sooner or later smile,
and it's like the water and tar never took hold of you.

so maybe you can be better, with a little help.

Do not
Believe boys
When they tell
You they love love
Do not
Believe boys
When they tell you
They are in love with you.

Do not
Believe boys
When they tell you
They are men
After hurting you
Repeatedly
With their words
And actions.

Do not believe boys
Who claim to be men
When they push you aside
After proclaiming they want to marry you,
For other girls that hurt your most insecure parts.

Believe men
Who tell you are worthy.
Believe men
Who understand why it is wrong
To harm another.

Believe men
Who do not throw tantrums
Because something went wrong.

Do not believe
Vile children
In grown up bodies
Who think your health and comfort
Is stupid and not important.

Do not fall for blissful spring green laughter
After standing back up from
Horrific blue tornadoes,
It is too dangerous
It could be bad too.
Do not trust so easily,
Do not yearn so easily,
They could be lying too.

But in their colors you see a flare
Of pink that makes you excited,
Because you know your face is reflecting
That same color
In your complexion.

It cannot be a lie.
Not another lie.

But do not give your heart away
So easily.
Not yet.
Save it.
For now.

Do trust, though.
It will be safe
One day.

Red,
Like the sunset.
Orange,
Like the clouds.

Green,
Like seafoam.
Blue,
Like the sea.

Cold,
Because you're guarded.
Warm,
Because you choose to be.

Cheeks flushing pink or red or burgundy,
Shock of a ginger touch on raw hearts,
Fear of being left, fear of leaving.

Stupid fights,
Stupid hurt.
Resolve quickly,
Softly.
No yelling,
No accusations.

Leaving me dumbfounded
At things being handled
Lovingly
Calmly
Gently.

How damaged must I be
To think this kindness is strange?