they say all of it is worth it
in the end, it is.

weeks maybe excruciatingly long,
but the universe gives me these
tiny breaks inbetween
as if it's telling me:
"here's love, comfort and home.
there's a storm coming,
more destructive than the last one.
but i know that you're stronger.
your bones are steel,
your spirit is unbreakable,
and you will survive,"

and i will.

The painful irony
of when the words you want to hear
are spoken from the wrong mouth
'You are worth waiting for'
What makes me worth it to you
and not to him?
Why is it, that the one who offers me the world,
is the one I don't want
and the one whom I offer the world to
doesn't want it
What kind of disturbingly ironic world am I living in?

Please don’t fall in love with me
I’m not someone to trust with your heart
I don’t even trust me with mine

Please don’t find me attractive
There are storms raging beneath this surface
Evil things dancing in fire and brimstone

Please don’t desire me
I’ll only let you down just like I do everyone else
I’m not what you want or need

Just keep looking... okay?

Time is all I have to spend,
though, I'm not sure on the exchange.
I'm negotiable on how I lend,
I'm sure there's something we can arrange.

You see, Time is all I have to spend,
I can't sell it for minimum wage;
but if I really had to,
I guess I'd spend some Time in Rage.

Time is all I have to spend,
So, I put my pen to page.
Time, to me, holds Everything,
It's worth thinking how I engage.

Some days it's going to hurt
Its going to feel like my body is a stiff, unforgiving cocoon
And my vibrant colors are trapped deep inside and aching
Some days my bed feels like a cage of comfort
Self soothing but at the cost of others
I **** on a pacifier at night sometimes
Dipped in honey
So I can just barely connect with my cousins
Maybe tomorrow I'll fly with them

Sometimes I get real sad
That I don't have hard edges, and defining lines
I have dimples and ripples
Covered in marks and scars and hair
Take refuge in a branch that appreciates me
Enveloped from the sun
Barely audible whispers through growing tangling veins
Saying I'm enough
But others think I haven't hatched yet
That I have work to do
A droplet catches
I'm sensitive

Sometimes I understand it deeply
as deep as I'm inside myself
Other days I fantasize about breaking out
Vibrantly, with elegance
But at the end of the day
Beauty, and what that means
Isn't exclusively me
or you
There's no right way
Or wrong
I'm not a project
Or an unfinished song
At the end of the day
Its every single piece

And when it comes to yours, someone sees

Be patient with me
I’m still a work in progress

Somedays I seem put together
But that paint’s not dry just yet

One day I’ll get this right
I’m sorry

Who am I?

Someone you loved
Or perhaps hated

Your friend
Maybe a lover

Some stranger on the street
Someone you dreamed of

Someone with piercing eyes
Or a forgettable face

I’m not really sure right now
But I’m still writing this story of me