The quiet nights spent alone
Cold as the iciest winter
Wandering wondering
If things had happened in reverse,
Would they be somewhat better?

True Affliction
Unwise decisions
Regretting forgiveness that was once given
Faulty thoughts
Impaired judgments
Logic flawed with justifiable reason

Transgressing to levels uncertain
A tornado of doubt destroys every light in sight
With every dreadful memory that resurfaces
Of the darkest times in her life

The anxiety clouds her mind
Uncertainty glares from behind her eyes
Scars of past loves, past exes, past wounds, past lies
They cover her face

Shown in the bags above her cheeks
The darkness behind her pupils
And the depression contained in them
A midnight black
A dark hole only caused by deep sorrow
Unfathomable Heartache

Overly afraid of the unknown
How will she learn to let go?
As if instinctively hesitant of others intentions
She treads vigilantly amongst
Those of even the utmost caliber

Stern refusal to release her guard
Such little remaining to give
She clings sacredly onto the last of her

To think,
Never again will she slip and fall
Blindly into loves tainted cage
Never again will she be trapped in loves locks
Like an animal untamed
Internally shattered in a zoo of impure emotion
How will she decipher the wrong from the right person?

Passively awaiting
The next bearer of alleged variation
When history has too often chosen to repeat
The differences in being different
Eventually turn out to be exactly the same

The Insecurities are flourishing,
A gorgeous garden is my mind—
But the weeds keep growing in.
Media like kryptonite—weakening my self esteem.
—Thoughts of a young child never knowing what to believe.

I lie awake in bed at night staring at the ceiling.
If only the notion could suffice in finding the words—
For the void I'm feeling in my life,
But it isn't simple.

Pure corruption of my mind,
Perfect pictures,
Flawless figures,
The images I can't erase.
Uncomfortable in my own skin—
What do I do to feel safe?

Do I drown myself in ink—to cover up the imperfections?
Instead of talking—walk and let my skin scream the self-expression?

Or do I return to the blank stare in the mirror?
The words are on repeat.
Who am I to think I’m beautiful—when I myself can’t see?
Who am I to think I'm valuable—when there is no self-confidence there?
Who am I to think I'm worthy—when I myself don't feel?

The insecurities keep flourishing.
A gorgeous garden was my mind,
But the weeds kept growing in.
Media like kryptonite—weakening my self esteem.
Thoughts of a young child,
--Never knowing what to believe.

One night as I lie awake—I hear my subconscious scream out to me.
The most attractive people do the ugliest of things,
The true beauty you want is what’s imprisoned within.
Why stop your happiness to return to a place—
—A place where you feel so alone?
Why do the tears flow?
You're killing yourself—
And you fail to realize
Your own self-doubt is the knife!
Pessimism,
The negative thoughts building inside—
They’re just as bad as the razorblade that kisses your skin as you sit in silence...
Why are you hurting yourself?
Temporary pain is only a distraction,
You were blessed and shaped by the hands of God.
What more could you possibly ask for?

Appearance is not everything.—
Stop the self-consciousness and live your life.
—acknowledge that you —are your worst —enemy...

I open my eyes.
The cries have ceased,
I return to the blank stare in the mirror.
The words are on repeat.
Who am I to think I’m beautiful—when I myself can’t see?
Who am I to think I'm valuable—when there is no self-confidence there?
Who am I to think I'm worthy—when I myself don't feel?

But it’s different this time,
My reflection speaks.
Saying no—
Who are you not to?
Your imperfections are beautiful.
Beautiful enough for the heart that is meant to love you,
Believe in yourself.
No more self doubt,
No more lost soul.

—No more insecurities flourishing,
A gorgeous garden is my mind.
No more weeds keep growing in,
Media is not my kryptonite,
No more weakening of my self esteem,
Thoughts of a young child finally unshackled —and free.

Like the pages of a book,
I slipped through her fingers.
So intrigued by my sheets,
Each chapter leaves her breathless—wanting more.

A labyrinth of words,
Mere lines and curves—but full of meaning.
So absorbed reality has vanished,
She loses herself inside of me.

Like shadows cast from an open flame,
On her, my silhouette I leave.
Like sand to an incoming tide,
Be swept away in me.

My characters,
The excitement,
The new universe I bleed,
My Ink stained canvas—
Her escape to a new dimension is held within me.

We journey across worlds—in the same room,
I take her up mountains,
We swim across oceans,
Soar from country to country—
Her imagination free to run wild,
My hardcover constraints do little to confine me.

Spread me open,
Dive head first into my pages and reside there with me.
Lust for my contents—
Weep for the lives expired within me.

Become lost in the passion,
Written tears become real tears—emotions:
Memories,
Pain,
Anger,
Sadness,
Happiness,
With each new read she feels alive with me.

My plot— so sweet,
Once she tastes me— she realizes she was always starving.
The bookmark—her utensil,
She stops and goes as she pleases,
Feeding on the juices of a hunger that she can’t appease.

I am her favorite book.
Within me she tunes out everything,
I take her to new heights.
A free mind— captured by my mystery,
My pages are never-ending.

We will live,
We will age,
Only the smell and feel of me will change.
Yet she will always wonder what my next page holds.

I have left my mark.
Whether I lie on the side table,
Or rest upright on a shelf,
I, her favorite book— am always within reach.