All the things we used to do
had become a daily basis-

you should know how sad it is
to miss you now

that a year ago;
I don't even have the chance
to miss you
as I was looking into your eyes
and we were laughing so hard-

I miss you,
I miss you;
I miss you so bad

When you thought lies
are better to be heard
than the truth,
when you close your eyes
but you could not still
find paradise.

When life are full of scars
and words do not
rhyme at all,
when you feel jaded,
when you feel cheated,
never let go.

True love finds
its way to hold on,
just hold still,
you are just broken
but not lost.

This love you watched
born in the fire of everything
that is destructive,
you knew the changes
but you welcomed the chaos.

When you tried to forget
all the memories,
but you failed,
when all the beauty
inside your world
turned into madness.

When you fear
for the moon
to disappear tonight,
when you feel jaded,
when you feel cheated,
never let go.

True love finds
its way to hold on,
just hold still,
you are just broken
but not lost.

I was there with her
the day she went to Glory
What a tender moment
What a beautiful love story.

Although she'd been in pain,
it ceased to mark her face
when she saw her savior coming
to take her to his place.

And though she could not speak
I watched her reach above
You could feel His warm, sweet presence
On her face, a glow of love.

And in that quiet passing
from this life to the next
there was comfort just in knowing
with him she'd get to rest.

There's no doubt about it
His presence there was known
He came to care for Mother
and welcome her back home.

He blessed me with my mother
compelled to share the story~
Of the peace that fell around her
the day she went to Glory.

The day fell cold and lonely,
A broken glass, a hotel floor,
These scars still serve as a reminder,
Life can always hurt much more.

Lie to me, please lie to me,
Just make me feel ok,
Nothing will matter in the morning,
I was never meant to stay.

We turn and burn and never learn,
New days, the same old times,
Wherever you pray, let’s go there now,
Forgive us for our crimes.

Thick choking smoke sings me awake,
She says, “Leave me behind.”
I lift my head to ask her what she said,
“Oh nothing, never mind.”

It was all a matchstick fairytale,
Some coldblooded grasp at fate,
A redemption burned in effigy,
A salvation far too late.

You need to understand that no matter how beautifully the poem is written, no matter how relatable those black and white letters are; every word I've ever put on paper has been a product of mental illness. I don't care how deep it sinks into your chest, how long it resonates on your brain or how amazing it is that I have somehow put every unspoken thought you've ever had into 6 small words. Not once have I created a poem while thinking, "This one will surely paint a glorified picture of self harm, drug addictions, rehab visits, repeated rapes, abusive boyfriends and five years of therapy into the readers mind." Never would I write with such intention and never should my words be read for such a purpose. If you are searching for poems with glitter masking the truth, you have come to the wrong place. So if you have the guts to read my poetry, then I dare you to have the guts to read with the same pain it was written with. I refuse to write with raw, bold, and honest words only to wrap a pink ribbon over the bloodshed just to earn the title "tragically beautiful." The words I spill out come from a dark world. Admire them in purest form, ugly and appalling to the eyes.  Why would you want to romanticize the filth that I pour from my mentally ill mind?