there's always something
at least one thing
that i do, or say, or think
that someone else finds
morbid, or off-beat or odd
why does it matter to them?
why must you announce it to the world
like you have the authority to do so?
because let me tell you,
you don't
but you still have the raging audacity to do it

so what if i like staring at the moon
and telling it
my life goals and dreams

          no one else cares enough to hear it. i can't just let it sit there and not be known. someone has to hear me out. so He mind as well.

so what if i happen to bite my lip so hard
that it bleeds a little and i always fidget with my necklace and ring.

          i'm nervous. i'm anxious. i have anxiety! i can't help it, and i don't even notice when i do it.

so what if i stick to myself a lot. and i'm often quiet and dress comfortable and "bummy" sometimes.

          i come here because i have to and for myself. not for you to ridicule me because what i'm wearing this certain day. because news flash, i honestly do not even remember you guys have a class with me until i see you again. i honestly don't care and i'm not trying to attract you, trust me.

and so what if i tend to cover my arms a lot! and always wear jackets and sweaters and such.

          why does it even MATTER to you?! it shouldn't. i have a skin condition and sometimes i don't feel comfortable. you don't even stop to think about that, but it's okay. i don't even want you to consider it.

my words should not concern you
unless my lips speak of your name
or if something about you happens to
tumble out of my mouth

my actions should not concern you
unless i am physically or mentally
hurting you
or another being

and my thoughts definitely should NOT concern you
because i definitely do not really think about you
when i leave

to whomever cares to listen or anyone who will even remotely understand,

i am not the person that you think i am and nor the person that my
apperance happens to give off. there is more to me than what meets
the eye. i am weaved together of cells and molecules and atoms and
genes to make this human being that several others fail to comprehend
and maybe the different assortment of my genes and molecules constructed
together is what makes you think that i am almost always hostile, but i am not.
maybe it's my crazy assortment of everything that happens to create me or
maybe something happened to cause such an inclined assumption, but let me
tell you one thing. as much as you you think i am full of hostility, i'm just as
much full of love and care. a lot of people may not think so, and a lot of the
time, i may not even think so myself, but it is true, as true as i or anyone will
make theirself believe. so maybe what i'm trying to get at here is, maybe
you should look deeper. take the time to analyze why i do the things i do. and
maybe give me the benefit of the doubt that i actually am a good person
(and a really good one at that) some people have taken the time do so and
i'm glad they did. but maybe that's what i need more of. for people to give me
the benefit of the doubt and to believe in me.  if you do, you'll see me care for
you and do that. can you do that?

sincerely,
the girl who is ALWAYS misuderstood

so you see,
there's nothing to ensure
that everything we went through
and everything you ever did to me
ever happened
there are no books
with frayed pages & cracking binds
that are tearing apart at the seams
telling our story
in words of black and white
and times new roman
with measly pieces of euphoria
hidden in between the lines
there are no aging, decrepit newspapers
with headlines of innumerable uproars
of when people had heard of
the pain that had accumulated in my heart
and started seeping its way into
the rest of my body
(because no one cared that much honestly)
simply because pf what you did
the promises you failed to keep
and your cool, calm, and caring persona
that you failed to keep fooling me with
the trees no longer whisper your name
when the rain and tree leaves
collide with each other
during a violent yet calming thunderstorm
your awfully large footprints
from where you tracked in mud
on my egg shell carpet
on your way to see me
are now washed away
and it seems as if
you were never even there
your love bites that you left
alongside of my delicate neck
that were once a deep burgundy
have no faded
and no longer show any signs
that your lips were ever pressed
against my body
it was like nothing ever happened
and since nothing was recorded
nor kept or saved
to everyone else,
and even you,
nothing ever did
and unfortunately
that's how it's gonna stay

liar, liar pants on fire
lying for you
must be a natural desire
you twist people's words
and manipulate one's mind
you persuade them
into giving you
an unbreakable bind
is it pleasant for you?
messing with people's heads?
and messing with their feelings
tearing them apart and to shreds?
does it give you ephoria,
happiness or joy?
you're probably laughing right now
you just treat everyone like measly toys
well i will not be another
no i am no Pinocchio
you will not try to control
me by lying,
it will not result to so
you can run along
with your lies
and all of your deceit
i will not be taken advantage of
by 26 letters
no
i refuse to taste defeat

don't you dare put me on a bookshelf because you have decided that you may not want me now, but i may be a good alternative later. i am vintage, something that you should be appreciative of. but to me it seems like that is everything that you're not. yes, i am old and my leather on the cover is beginning to crack, but doesn't that make me more beautiful? yes, my edges are torn and frayed but that doesn't that just mean to treat me with more delicacy? and yes, the binding is falling apart and tearing at the seams, but doesn't that mean you should take oh so better care of me? and not just throw me on the top shelf carelessly just because you think i am useless, because i am not. no matter how many times that i thought that i was, i am far from that. i am a treasure. that someone else will gladly be able to discover. i will captivate someone, at least one, with every page, and every one of my letters, jumbled together to create words in black and white. yes, someone will cherish me and hold me near and dear. and that someone may not be you, but **** it, if it's not. please give me away to someone that will.

I.
i'm clingy.
you can't manage to love someone that always happens to stick onto you like fresh fallen snow on the bottom of your snowboots or pounding water that adheres to your skin in a shower. no one wants someone who they can't shake off and get away from a little. but with me, i will try my hardest not to let that happen. because i can't even fathom the thought of you walking out that door and never coming back.

II.
my brain is like spaghetti.
my thoughts are always messy and all over the place. it's extremely challenging to sort everything out so i don't even try anymore. everything just jumbles and mixes together and you can't really differentiate one strand from another. and my grandmother always told me that guys don't like messy girls.

III.
sometimes i'm just a really sad poem with feet.
i get into moods. moods where i think everything is wrong and that i'm useless. no one likes girls like that. boys like confidence, right?

IV.
i'll try to make a home out of you.
and you can't make homes out of people. but i don't think that'll ever get through my thick skull.

V.
you don't know how to love me.
no one does. no one has quite been able to figure it out.
and i think you're okay with that.