I wear the badge of honor on my chest,
saying I've been through hell and back
and I'm still living,
some say
that when they've looked into my eyes
they see an undeniable strength
and deep intense pain
so what do I say to that ,
I say that is truth.
But maybe I wanna stop having to feel that
my victim stories
are all who I am
because they are not,
I am only now starting to find myself
at 26 it feels so late in a way
its so hard to relate to many people

I feel like the  small talk
makes escape feel easy
or hard whichever way you wanna see it
I feel like I wanna just run again
change my name
so I forget my family
so I forget the religion
that brought me up
to shame myself
my body
my sexuality
and to make me hate my gender
of being a women
when will we stop allowing others
to teach our children hatred
I wanna be a force of fire
in the world
a fire to eradicate the abuse
the hurting the pain
to be the voice of the voiceless
maybe my poetry
helps someone I don't know
maybe this is why I write
real pain exists in the world
but it doesn't end there ,
I am healing ,
but the road can be quite rocky at times
so I wear my battle scars
as a badge of honor
to know I've made it this far
so I can go on
for more
for longer
to hold out for hope
that things will get better and improve.

All I craved for
Is to see more
Of many opportunities
That opens much doors
But I was left with an option
Fake this -perfect this!
What might pays big?
Thou,
Fake burns fast like the enstrunch fire
And perfection rebuilds, reframe,  re-brand  the inner success fire.

Let me be who I really am with you
My eyes directly train upon what’s true
My realness experiences your realness
Avoiding deceit or pretense
Authenticity unimpeded
Open heart, sharing my opened mind
The real thing unadulterated
My words and feelings unalloyed
Let me be who I really am with you
An undisputed portrait of me
Meaning what is said honestly
Frankness displayed in every word
Candid truth is what you have heard
I’m the legtimate and upfront article
Let me be who I really am with you

Your voice is one in which I crave.
You make me feel.
You've made me cry, real tears. Not those crocodile ones that the children cry.
Real, wet, hot tears -- euphoric in a sense, the tears, they clear my mind.
They make me see what I couldn't before. A sense of -- enlightenment, perhaps?

...is a purple curtain

behind this curtain
is your flesh

behind your flesh
is your ego

behind your ego is the real you
we've been on a journey
like grandpa and grandmom
take me away
take me to the place of the real you

I got a tattoo for my best friend,
It’s a tombstone,
And every time someone sees it they tell me “I’m so sorry for your loss”

I say that’s okay, she’s alive, we just have a morbid sense of humor,
And they look at me strangely,
Like there’s something wrong with me,
And I always reply,
If I can’t laugh at death, how can I live without fear of dying?

We are not promised tomorrow,
There’s a chance this second could be our last,
My lungs could refuse to **** in air,
Your heartbeat could stutter out at any moment,

Why worry about that ticking tick?
Let me laugh about it now,
So when death does come for me, just like he will come for you,
I can greet him as an old friend,
Instead of the monster we all dream of.

I think you are the only one,
    Who’s normal in my busy feed.
In crowds, my affection you’ve won,
    And are the one who I do need.

They post those pretty, prideful pics,
    While you just share so modestly,
Upon a day from one to six
    Pictures who are so glittery.

You have some friends who post like you,
    Dainty with their beautiful styles,
With pastel pink and pastel blue,
    Evoking love, evoking smiles.

Thank you, my distant star-like friend,
    Who I know only through my phone,
This with my peace to you I send,
    While I do stay to you unknown!

writing poems is pretentious they say,
did you know?

apparently I'm stuck up my own ***
if I don't

sorry you act to good to express how
you really feel

you think its 'gay' and 'pathetic'?
well okay

say what you want
I dont care

it makes me feel alive
do you like feeling dead?

it's like your thoughts come to life

and it feels so real

I feel sorry for you,
if you think you're too good to express

or maybe on the other end
you're just too insecure to address?

everybody tries to be
a perfectly created masterpiece
yet all i want to show
are my flaws

i want to be so
inevitably flawed
that no one can help
but stare at me
and taste
the bittersweet realness of my being