The swirls in her pupils, flow with the past flashing before her eyes.
The flip in her hair, twirls with the smell of her perfume.
The  curl in her lip, smirks with the humor of a young woman.

She holds the weight of her years,
Bearing the joys and the pains she’s endured.

Her dark scars, they show her fight,
The fight to prove herself, to pick herself up.
The fight that took her down.

Her rough hands, they show her work.
The work to fight back, to keep going forward.
The work that built her up.

It kidnapped more than a look,
More than a caress of her skin.
It abducted more than a smile,
More than a shake of her hand,
For her to make me fall in love.

I became the victim of the highest crime.

There is so much more than what the first look gives.
More than the perfume stuck to her loose shirt, more than the lipstick slightly smeared,
More than the deep chocolate brown in her piercing almond eyes.

She ran off with all that I was.

I had given so much love away,
But when I had finally decided to give my all,
It was her that I gave it to.

Falling in love with her was arduous.
She has her faults, her passion, and her selfishness.

It was everything about her that finally stole what was left.
The woman accused of theft.

All that I ever was and all that I ever would be.

It was me.

The thief of my own heart.

He started walked away.
He stated he had nothing to say, nothing but its over.
They say the dark times are the ones following the break up
Yet that became my light

For it let me see things I had never seen before
My own lack of self worth
My lack of self-value
And my love for a man who never loved me at all

But what I saw most of all,
What disgusted me beyond tears?
Was the lack of a woman who never loved herself at all.

She walked the sidewalks searching for love
She drove the streets for a ride,
She asked for change

When she was her own ride, her own love but most of all her own change

The light was shining after the darkness of love had subsided

She finally saw herself in the mirror
She touched the edges of her face, traced the length of her hair
Caressed away the tear flowing down her cheek,

To see all she needed, all the light,
Was there to start with.

I will regret this in the morning
but I will do it anyway
my impulsivity often overpowers my conscience
yet I am almost always fully aware
of the decisions I make
and their consequences
I am not exactly mentally stable
but I am sane enough
to know right from wrong
yesterday from today
love from lust
although sometimes I mix them up
I have a tendency to lunge at any pair of arms that open for me
my mind and body often disagree
my body saying yes to eager hands
my mind saying no
constantly looking towards my heart
thinking how stupid one must be
to fall repeatedly
get hurt every single time
and still manage to do the same
over
and over
again
I wonder
how many times I will have to hit the ground
in order to learn to stop falling face first?
I often say things
that should be left unsaid
I often do things
that should not be done
sleep in beds unfamiliar
make believe love to strangers
get to know people who will not remember me tomorrow
I am gone as quickly as the hangover
I can be washed off the tongue
just as quickly as the liquor
I often believe I am capable of inciting change
I kiss temporary lips with permanence
hoping that I can train them to stay
I love temporary people with permanence
hoping that I can train them not to leave
and when they do
I claim to have seen it coming
I am incapable of forgetting
a scrapbook memory of skin and heartbeat
of touch and moments
I know not to look directly into eyes
for they can be blinding
and I still
do it anyway
I know of the risks that shouldn't be taken
well aware of their consequences
and I still
take them anyway
you could say
it is my own fault
for the way that things continue to turn out
but I can make no promise of apology
instead
I will live momentarily
**** up intentionally
love recklessly
fall unguarded
break enough times to learn how to put myself back together
crash into concrete enough times to learn how to shift a crooked smile
into something worth seeing
I have been told that a life lived in fear
is hardly a life lived at all
so I intend to live every second
like it is the last one I will have
I will write each night as it happens
narrate my own stories
and hope they turn out okay
I will regret this in the morning
but I will do it anyway.