From an angel's eyes to a poet's pen.
Poems are made.
Humble beginnings is where we all began.
Trapped in routines. Caught up in religious traditions.
Freed by making poetry.

I babysit this grown man who is a sexist, depressive, boring and unusually suicidal for a scientist.
He is a complete idiot who don't understand communication and social interaction. Hence why I am his only friend. He is a year older than me. But he is immature, human and sometimes vulnerable.
He doesn't wear a mask around me. I know he is a monster, he is obnoxious and annoying. He keeps telling me he loves me and cares about me but I don't feel it. I refuse to think that maybe he will get the hint that I won't date and marry him. Because I have gave him the benefit of the doubt too many times which I normally end up hurt and more heart-broken than before. I won't end up a victim to a narcissistic man. I guess it's awareness or maybe it's me giving up on him. I don't know which. I am just not sure whether I want to burn the bridge or not.

If you have ever read The Host by Stephanie Meyer then you know it ends with "People are strange" with the reply, "The strangest". I hate the Twilight series but loved the werewolf aspect of it. My mom read the Twilight series and forced me to watch the Twilight series with her growing up. I personally love Cassandra Clare books. That's the difference between my mom and I. I give an in-depth analysis of every book I read so I have my own well read opinions while mom enjoy the fandom high. My mom stopped reading fiction books when her church friends thought they were the devil's work. I still read all types of fiction books. I watched The Mortal Instruments: The City of Bones the movie 10 times before I actually started reading Cassandra Clare books. The show Shadowhunters was a poor adaption of the books. No matter what series you read "People are strange" is going to be the overall take away. The Beautiful Creatures series is great because forbidden love is wonderful to read.

No one cares because No One is Watching.
If the crowds aren't watching then still be you.
If no one is paying attention then give them small interesting details about you that will get them begging for more.
If no one is giving a **** then surprise everyone with devote stubbornness and strong headedness.
Being who you are doesn't make you less human. Being emotional doesn't make you worthless. Being the strong and vulnerable friend doesn't make you lonely. If being a softie makes you a loser then watch how they end up alone and you with plenty of friends because having a heart doesn't make you a loser it makes you human.
The heartless and soulless people were scorned by their past but that doesn't them any less human or any less of a ****.
Being considered an equal among geniuses is an honor because equality is what everyone wants. Respect is given, trust is earned and honor is put under consideration until proven right.

I see through people's acts of fakeness and observe their insecurities as well as their hidden secrets. It's fun for me.
I never have to pretend to bored or exhausted around holier-than-thou people at church. It's normally the same stories but different traumas. The kids my age are spur-of-the-moment thrill junkies with different motivations. I get bored observing the same stories.
With geniuses there are unusually bizarre good stories. Each unique and their own. With curious minds you tend to gain a lot of experiences from life.

My emotions show up on my face.
My mood swings are sharp and all consuming.
As the saying goes "I wear my Heart on my Sleeves".
Throughout the years I have learned to guide my mood swings to my benefit. To let the emotions flow through me and feel every ounce of them. Not stopping the emotions if it's one I don't want. Not pushing the emotion back into my heart. Just letting all of my emotions be valid, it's a peaceful and happy life to live. What I have learned is that I can't control anger and sadness. Those are the two most powerful emotions on the human spectrum. If you can't control it, feel it completely. Sure anger is a dangerous emotion but so is sadness. Guiding anger into passion to a healthy way to guide it.
Guiding sadness into happiness is a way to make the sad moments feel more valid. Having anxiety and depression ever since middle school it took awhile to guide my emotions the right way. In high school dealing with grief was like wanting to forget the tidal wave heading straight towards you but of you can't runaway from your emotions forever. I know so I have tried multiple times throughout my life. It helps no one including you. I find talking about these emotions to your closest friends who you trust helps a lot. Sure they aren't therapists but they are smart enough to know you fully. Understanding someone is the most intimate thing for we humans to do. Empathy is the ultimate intelligence. Sympathy is just surface level comfort. Empathy is walking two moons in their shoes and loving someone for what they are going through.

I lost my reading glasses and now I have to wait to go to Walmart to get new ones.
I lost my reading glasses and now I wearing these stupid blue light glasses.
I lost my reading glasses and now I am all sorts of bored.

Being schizophrenic, you see horrific things in your nightmares.
Being bipolar, every emotion is supercharged.
Being bisexual, don't get erased by society's standards.
There isn't one way to be you. There isn't one way to have a heart.
There isn't one way to have a mind. Being who you are and speak up for yourself or someone else who matters to you.

Normal people are ignorant, self-absorbed, controlled by society and lonely. I understand people far too well and sometimes I forget that I am human too. I may not be normal in any way shape or form but my empathy makes me feel beyond human in some ways.
I can read who someone is by their habits, in their actions and how they speak. Characteristics are easy to me because I am writer it's practically my job to observe everyone and everything with a curious point of view. Being mentally ill I gain wisdom through my experiences. I don't want to bottle up my emotions because that's unhealthy psychologically and mentally.

Hiding in Plain Sight, yet no one at church can see the real me, all they see is my faith and that is all there is to them.
Hiding in Plain Sight, yet they don't the blue, purple and pink of the true colors of my heart and I know there is more to life than just faith.
Hiding in Plain Sight, yet I bite my tongue thinking I will slip up and tell them I am not straight. When I know that if I did tell them I am not straight they would rebuke me for being me.
Hiding in Plain Sight, I am proud to be bisexual. Yet when I look around at the church I was raised in, I know I would lose all my church friends.
Hiding in Plain Sight, yet none of them see me.

The men I work with at the gas station in my small town respect me and treat me as their equal. But the new kid questions my ability to work there. He is the Boy with an Innocent Heart.
He spreads rumors about me, insults anyone who tries to help him, gets into arguments with the kitchen manager and begs for more responsibilities from the store manager.
He thinks he is going to recognized for his cutting corners attitude but he doesn't. He is childish, lonely, unimpressive, a ****** canoe, problematic, spoiled and a selfish *****.
I work just as hard as any of the men I work with. He is worst than the Lazy Man.

The Divide of you and me came gradually over the years.
You became a monster of your own making scarring me with trauma of you wanting to **** yourself when we got into fights, you obsessing over me and making me the reason for you to live.
This codependency I can't take it anymore.
I can't stand your sexist jokes, your pleading for us to be more than friends, you draining all of my mental energy, you thinking your better than everyone else and you repeatedly ignoring the fact that I would never be happy with you. I am one of the rare good humans.
I remember you being a sweet boy with bluish green eyes and now you are a shell of a man pining for me, a woman that will never love you the way you want me to.

Blonde hair and black glasses.
Light tan skin and dark blue eyes.
One night, long ago.
One time her older brother waved at me from his ******* truck and said, "My little sister talks about you all the time."
I smiled and waved back. Saying nothing as he drove past me.

My little sister grew up being my translator. I would be lost without her. I have always been quiet, soft spoken and sensitive.
People didn't understand why I was so shy. I had to repeat myself a lot which I hated.
My little sister went with me everywhere to be my voice. I have a voice of my own and I can speak for myself it just took me awhile to be confident. I would make snarky comments and my little sister would try to insult me which wouldn't work.
We would fight a lot as sisters do. Mom and dad would take my side in a heated argument. Mom and dad wanted my little sister to be just like me which is probably why my little sister was always so cranky.
I always wanted her to be herself as any good sister would want.

Why do we fade into crowds, we don't belong in?
I don't belong in a church because I am bisexual.
I continue to go to church because my straight friends are there.
But they think I am straight when I am not.
I prefer women. I have slept with women.
And I don't care what the church says. I still want a girlfriend.
Even if the church hates me for existing.
Why do we fade into crowds?
Maybe it is because it is easy to do. But fading is just existing.
I want to live my life authentically. One of these days I will.

The whoosh of going down snowy slopes.
Walking back up the snowy ***** out of breath.
Fresh wind pumping my veins.
Coughing out the fresh wind at the bottom of the *****.
Almost too much wind pumping through my veins.
Freedom and being alive at the whoosh going down the snowy slopes.

I met him at Coffee Boy's coffee shop. He is an old guy who is married. He asks every girl my age if they have a boyfriend which I find rude because he assumes every girl is straight.
He visits me at work each night which sometimes creeps me out.
He is four times my age yet is fascinated by strong opinions.
He reads my poetry as if I am his grandchild which I am not.
Everyone in town loves him yet he is obsessed about me.
I have a social life too I just want him to respect that.

More family events today.
Family game night, last night.
Tiredness from last night sticking to me like a second skin.

Yes, I have been to hell and back several times but I am Still Me.
Yes, I have had multiple emotional and mental meltdowns over the many years I have been alive but I am Still Me.
Yes, I have chosen my path of being tender hearted, passionate and relentless. I won't let the world destroy who I am for the sake of external sanity so **** the status quote! I am Still Me.
Yes, I have had awful days due to my anxiety and depression because caring too much and have my entire body ache in a dull agony don't mix well. There was one day in high school I took two ibuprofens instead of one to make forget my heartache from grieving over losing my best friend. It made me forget my heartache for a whole day but I don't remember the school day. I am Still Me.
Yes, people think I am weird for wanting to write instead of something practical. People many times have stared at me like I was crazy including my own family. I tend to stare back and smile as though their distress for my rebellious nature is my award. I am Still Me.
Yes, I have been called an enigma before by my older sister and weird by my peers, I take it as a compliment. I prove people wrong for a living. So take your boxes and stuff them up your *** because I will leave your head spinning. If you are judgmental about people then I hate you because I bet that stick in your *** covers all of the blood you taste in your mouth, being narrow minded doesn't make you better than anyone. I am Still Me.

I accidently got my arm cut by the metal cutter of a saran wrap box when I was putting away dough buckets.
I got five stitches in my arm but I am okay. It hurts a lot since yesterday I couldn't feel my arm at all due to the numbing injection the doctor gave me. Feeling pain is okay it's just today I feel really tired as if all of energy got drained out of me no matter how much coffee I have. I am excited for my future scar but for right now I have to deal with the pain.

Is the courage to love worth it?
Short answer, yes
If you were to ask how so?
Long answer, to love and be loved in return is the greatest thing in the world.
So the courage to love is absolutely worth it. Whether it's new love or old love starting anew. It is always worth it. Because she or he is worth it to you. Because to love is be selfless and love beyond yourself. So yes have the courage to love.
Love so much that you forget what other people are thinking.
Love beyond who you are and become someone amazing.
Because chances are you are amazing.

If you know me then great. If you don't then welcome to my life.
I am a band nerd. No surprise there. Music is what makes me better creatively. It helps me think. Ever heard of Mozart, or Bach? I love them. I know it's classical. Ever heard of The Fray, or Paramore? They are punk rock. Huge difference between genres. Duh, use your ears.
Octaves and dynamics are fun to play with. Changing keys is a *****.
Music is Medicine! It's scientifically proven to improve mood and memory. I hate stereotypes, imagine me being the rebel to ***** with people's minds. That's better. I can either be your morning sun or your holy fire. Either way, you can get burnt if you have too much of me. No I am not always a superhero. I am a rebel. I get to make up my own rules, I follow them. If you ask about my rules expect them to change each day.

God told me to keep going.
And to focus on the center of my heart.
But to keep going where? What am I doing that He wants me to keep doing? I know my heart is special to God.
It has been a Holy Spirit filled weekend.
It may be me making new friends at work or me making poetry.
So I am going to keep making poetry.

I read in a textbook that 3 out 4 people with mental illness commit suicide. I have only attempted suicide once in my life a long time ago.
I know what true hopelessness feels like and it's the worst thing to ever feel. It's as though every cell in your body is turning against until your mind tells you to give up because you are in so much agony.
What are we to live in a hopeless and cruel world?
What are we to defy statistics?
What are we to become so resistant to despair that getting out of bed is a triumph?
What are we to be warriors rising from the grief and hopelessness?
What are we to be so mentally and emotionally indestructible to our own darkness?
What are we to mature from pain?
Are we angels or demons? Depends on the person. The true test of character is the how and why.
Are we inhuman? Depends on if you turned into a monster or not because certainly the test took away something childish from you.
Change is becoming so beyond your own standards that you are someone new.

Last night. I dreamt of you.
Last night. The white wine burned going down my throat.
Last night. I was wondering if you are okay.
Last night. My mind kept drifting back to you.
I kept thinking of your lips upon mine.
I kept thinking of your beautiful dark blue eyes and your smile.
I kept thinking about us.

I have done a lot of stupid things and you aren't one of them. I am an open book just in multiple languages. I don't have a bucket list.
I think about dying on my worst days but not to **** myself just in general. Anxiety leads to heart disease with exercise. Depression kills 3 in 4 mentally ill people.
I have done a lot of stupid things and I am not an idiot.
I am not my mental illnesses, I just have mental illnesses. If you are reading this I am the gayest girl in my hometown and a legend.

The Girl with Green Eyes is back in town. I expected her to be back in town sometime. It's just seeing her again makes me soft as if my heart warms inside my chest and I can't help myself by smiling like a dork.
Hugging her again reminds me of the good old days where we were the power duo of the church. We still are the power duo of best friends going on two different paths. She is still an idiot that sings like an angel and she is still beautiful to me. She is a good person and I know her heart as though it's my own. I don't hate her and I never hated her. It's just she is everything I am not. She blends into this small religious town, she is the poster girl of worship band, she is popular because everyone loves her and she is agreeable.
In this town we are a package deal you can't have one without the other. Sometimes I am envious of her because she is the picture perfect straight girl that makes me less lonely at church and I can't lose her. Not yet. She is just so predictable and I can't help myself by falling for her charm in a platonic way. She is my weakness maybe it's because she helped me overcome my stage fright, my fear of being second best and my fear of being abandoned. She never gives up on me and I believe in the good within her.
She apologized for being a **** to me last summer and I deleted the text because I was still angry at her. I forgive her now because I know she depends on me to be her hero when I am a rebel with trust issues. She is always there when I needed her and I am always there for her when she needs me. That's what best friends are for. Maybe it's because we have been best friends for 9 years and I know hurting her would feel good for 5 seconds but not worth losing her for a lifetime.

Magic is fake, I seek no wealth from any psychic.
Magic is fake, they are just people hiding behind a mask.
Magic is fake, they are just people with pretentious mumbo jumbo that are begging for money from vulnerable people and it is sickening.
Magic is fake, mediums can go ***** themselves.
Don't seek anything from mediums or psychics because they are phonies.
Magic is fake, all it leaves you with is a headache and more confused than you were before.

Those dark blue eyes and her laughter make my days at work better.
I like how she tells me stories about her life.
I like how she glances at me and smiles.
I like how I feel around her.
I like how I can tell her anything.

I can feel the fire raging inside of me.
I keep it bay by journaling and writing poetry.
Yet the fire rages because I am sick and tired of hiding in the closet.
The fire rages because I want to tell them there is more to life than just chastity and purity culture.
The fire rages because I want to tell them how satisfying and amazing it is to kiss a girl.
But I know they will never understand because they are ignorant to the truth and spirit that thrive in the lgbtq community.

Most people are like glass, transparent and fragile.
Glass is of many colors and designs like people.
As though the secrets behind the glass are just plays compared to the pictures on display.
Secrets are the poison of the world. Anyone can make them. Anyone can hurt anybody. I see right through them and observe their behaviors. I discern the characteristics and know the problems that surround them.
Looking through Glass if you know what to look for.

I watched you get undressed. It was a mission trip. You in your bra and *******. I wanted to kiss you. I wanted to take off the rest of the coverings and have my skin next to yours. I wanted everyone to know in some way that you were mine. I would have made myself a fool because two best friends who are Christian girls aren't supposed to do that. But I just stared at your smooth skin as long as I could.
I wanted to take your hand in my hand then proceed to call you babe. But you had to be a straight girl and fall for the guy in the praise band who played guitar. Typical. Just typical. You guys broke up in high school. You guys were my best friends. You two were unstoppable heroes. Now neither of you two talk to each other. Your parents won't even talk to each other. What kind of love was so bad even if it ended mutually that none of you two will talk about it? I know it's a Christian town but what the actual **** is wrong with you two? I may not be straight but I declare you two *******.

Sure I have volunteered a lot in my life. That doesn't make me a hero.
Wanting rights for people who need them as an activist. That doesn't make me a hero.
Writing essays about controversial topics because I am passionate about them. That doesn't make me a hero.
I don't save lives because I am not a police officer, firefighter, doctor nor nurse. I don't wear a cape and the only ability that I have that makes me special is that notice things that most people don't.
I don't tell people the state of America, I am not a reporter yet.
I can't tell people how stupid they are because I am not a politician nor a TV show host.
I am not a hero just a rebel. You can call me an angel, a sweetheart, a vengeful millennial, a crazy writer, a scornful ex, a hopeless romantic and a cute nerd as much as you want I will still be me. I am not perfect because I don't pretend to be that. Perfect is overrated and overused term. I prefer sincere and endearing or dramatic and insane whichever one suits your perspective of me.

The endless, light blue sky holds humanity underneath like cold blanket.
Of winter morn, people going to business meetings, people still buying Christmas presents and waiting for the end of the year.
The endless, light blue sky for one I am seeing today, you are seeing too.
The endless, light blue sky of winter morn, where ice is like glass and snow crunches under foot.

What if hate is just an emotion cloaked by insecurities and love is naked in truths?
People are afraid of truths and manipulate the stage for attention for their lies.
Anxiety is guessing the future by predicting the emotions by a script written in fear of abandonment.
Depression is not caring and living in true hopelessness as if it's the only despair that matters.
Having both is contradicting yourself to the point that people around you get confused.
What if being unapologetically about who you are is the only way to live without fear and hopelessness?

Being fully healed from lovesickness is wanting to love but curiosity still wins every time.
She is vivacious with her dark blue eyes and slender body.
She is wants me to be more than friends with her.
She flirts with a smile and captures my heart.

It was you and me; now it is only me.
It was you and me, I hope he loves you right.
It was you and me; we were together for a month and a half.
It was you and me; our nights at my house were amazing.
It was you and me; I am glad you moved on and we are just friends.
It was you and me; I am glad neither of us regret what we had.

That is to say going to church isn't fun for me yet it is fun for me.
That is to say I know the Holy Spirit and Jesus is real because I felt their presence. It is just sometimes I question if God is there because I don't know if he listens to my prayers.
That is to say I know He exists because you can't have the Holy Spirit and Jesus without God. I know my Heavenly Father loves me even if my church hates me for being bisexual.
That is to say I am spiritual not religious. I believe God the Father, Jesus the Son and the Holy Spirit loves people who are good people.
Because the outcasts, black sheep of the family, rebels and people of all sorts deserve to be loved and I think the Holy Trinity loves them.
That is to say to be godly is to love your neighbor and follow the ten commandments which I do follow the ten commandments and love my neighbor. So to be godly should be that simple. Because to cherry pick the Bible would be ignorant and stupid. I don't care who hates me for the way I see the gospel.

I go to the coffee shop on my days off hoping I will meet the one but nothing.
I think I need to join a dating app. Maybe then I will meet the one.

My mother always gave me childhood trauma that my father made up for. I always enjoyed wear boyish clothing. My mom had to force me into a dress when I was a kid. Where my mom gave me sad and angry memories, my dad would give me joyful and loving memories.
My mom and dad divorced when I was 7 years old. They would fight about my siblings and I. My dad always defended my sanity to my mom.
One of the things I heard when I was 7 years old my dad said to my mom, "You wanted to have her!" That's when I knew they were talking about me. My older sister was expensive sports wise. I was the expensive kid therapy wise. I had reading help in kindergarten. I had speech therapy from 1st grade to 3rd grade. I had physical therapy since I was in preschool to 5th grade. I had emotional therapy from middle school to college. I stopped one of my friends from erasing himself from the earth multiple times. Growing up friends I thought I could count on to stay around left me. Being abandoned by my old friends gave me trust issues. I still don't trust people easily. If you are going to drain my soul, take a piece of my heart then leave me. What was the point of getting emotionally invested in you?

When I loss my best friend at 15 years old, 6 months later I attempted suicide. I felt as though no one else could fix me or even fill the spiritual hole in my heart.
As if no one could understand the pain I felt.
As if the aching grief pounding at my heart was going to swallow me whole.
My family members were asleep and I had a pocket knife out.
I kept staring at my wrist but I couldn't do it.
It was like my best friend held my wrist and I thought about all of the good people in my life. So I placed the pocket knife away and turned out my bedroom lights. Then I cried myself asleep.

If Love is a Measure then the world have fallen short because it is full of hate.
If Love is a Measure then envy is overflowing in people's hearts.
If Love is a Measure then selfishness is what people nowadays benefit from.
If Love is a Measure then divorce and cheating is happening more often in this world.
If Love is a Measure then unrequited love is devouring the hopeless.
If Love is a Measure then change must be required of the true to enact
as the guides of the lost.

Sometimes I am a hero and other times I am a villain.
The stories change from person to person.
I embrace my madness and my flaws.
Look me in the eyes, what do you see?
I am insane and I am okay with that. Other people aren't okay with my insanity. I can't cure my insanity. It's simply there lurking and waiting for me to feel insecure.
Look me in the eyes, do I seem like the person to manipulate anyone?
Let me answer that for you no I don't use people that's boring and evil. People use me not the other way around.

If I touch you will you smile? If we go into a deep conversation will you be interesting to me? Are you worth me losing my mind?
What obsessions and passions you have?
I am curious. I have always been curious about everything. When I read people's stories through social interactions I notice a lot. The little details that matter in a story.
How Real Are You? Will you cry when I tell my tragic story? Will you love me for my quirks? What kind of jokes do you tell? Do you have a sense of humor? Let's figure it out.

Snow falling.
Shivering in a coat.
Sun covered up by the clouds.
Snow glistening.

Blues and greens
Lighting appearing
The small town surrounded by gray clouds
No cars on the roads
Everything is louder in the Thunderstorms

Mind spinning
The dizziness of wanting to *****
Whole body feeling numb
Heart racing
Shallow breaths
Lungs in pain

Sometimes it's like I am restless. I read book after book. I don't know how to stay still. As though my thoughts are going a mile a minute.
Sometimes it's like times slows down. I like that I get time to myself.
Time to heal. Time to think.
Sometime it's like with all this happiness I want to do on adventures. I want to get out of this town for a little while. I want to get out of my head.
Sometimes it's like I don't know where to start. I am afraid to trust people.

I have anxiety, depression, bipolar disorder and schizophrenia.
I am medicated and I have good doctors taking care of me.
There is No Cure, Just Mindset.
I used to be consumed by anxious and depressive thoughts to the point I was hurting myself with my own expectations of people.
People looked at how weird I was and abandoned me after a brief season of friendship.
They turned out to be popular, normal people who forgot about our brief season of friendship. Because people like that will never understand people like me.
My mindset is too set in psychology, sociology and philosophy for normal people to understand a word I say.
Sometimes it is nonsense to them and wisdom to me.
I grew to know many things either from experience or books.
I am not normal and I never will be normal.
Normal is an overrated expectation that society puts on children of the past, the present and the future.

Here's to Love that one day I will someday find my true love in a forever.
Here's to Love that one day I will have more friends that I trust and stay by my side.
Here's to Love that one day I won't be alone anymore.
Here's to Love that one day I won't be trapped in someone else's world ever again.
Here's to Love in hopes that I won't be lost ever again.
Here's to Love that one day I will listen to my instincts and learn to walk away at the first red flag.
Here's to Love that one day things will change.