Love, the real kind, is never simple.
It is the one thing that makes life worth it in the end,
and something that wonderful and sought-after is never going to be easy to get.
You have to work for it.
Blood, sweat, and tears.
So if it’s easy, yeah maybe you won’t get broken.
But you won’t be truly happy, either.
You’ll be settling.
Don’t get me wrong,
There are lots of things in life that are totally acceptable to settle on.
Sure, Harvard was your dream school.
But you know what?
Going to your state school because its more affordable
Will still get you where you want to be in life.
And I know the hairdresser couldn't match the color you showed her,
But you are beautiful and can rock it anyway, so don’t worry.
But love?
Settling in love is like buying a pair of shoes that are a size too small,
Just because you thought they were pretty.
They may look nice,
But you are dying on the inside. I
f you had just held out a bit longer,
You would have found a pair just as beautiful that fit well, too.
Maybe that nice guy looks good on paper,
But if he doesn’t give you butterflies whenever he looks at you,
Don’t be with him.
You want someone who makes you fall for them every day,
Not just once.

everyone was dancing
having fun
not caring about
anything.
but i stood still,
scared of the voices,
feeling like i didn't
fit in.

when he bent
down to kiss me,
i pulled back.
i felt bad but....
i just couldn't.

all i do is hurt people
and I'm so sick of it.
i cant even be happy
at my own homecoming
dance.

he told me to have
a good time because
everything gets better.
but they don't,
its only for a little
while that
they do.

Tell your bedroom walls all the secrets you can think of.
They won't whisper them around when you leave the room.
Tell the walls because they won't mind if you lay around half naked, crying all day.
Your friends might.

Don't tell your friends your secrets.
Don't tell them about how you did something stupid in a Starbucks bathroom once
Or how you gave everything you had to a boy who lived too far away.

Don't tell those secrets to those girls,
The walls won't whisper but people will.
Maybe they'll tell everyone about how "she isn't a back door ******"
(Yes I know about that).
Maybe they'll just laugh behind your back about how big your *** is.
The walls won't though.

Tell your secrets to the walls of your bedroom,
Cover them with words and pictures and stay cradled in the safety of their embrace for as long as you can.
Walls won't tell secrets,
People will.

a few months ago,
you asked me: "What is love?"
As you can see,
it had taken me a long time to understand the question myself,
but I think I've finally come up with an answer.
Unfortunately,
the English language
has only one word to describe something that has limitless interpretations.
In Greek,
there are three words for the three basic types of love.
Eros;
lust.
This type of love
is when you find yourself doodling their name
on the inside of your history textbook,
dotting the I's with hearts
as if you are 13 again and you were just asked on your first date.
You chose that textbook
because it will be the only place no one would ever think to look.
You think about everything you would be far too shy to say or act in person,
making out in the back of a movie theatre
not caring who would walk past,
sneaking off away from your friends just to have two measly moments of what you both call "peace."
Most often,
this type of love is encased in "I love you"
only to obtain a certain goal.
Virginty,
a picture,
or even just one more night
of having them in your arms.
Eros is not authentic,
it is emphemeral.
Phileo;
Brotherly Love.
The friend you would drop anything for in a heartbeat to make sure of their wellbeing,
but also the neighbor you see from time to time watering their garden.
They ask you
to tend to their garden while they are away,
and you do it
even though you've never spoken more than a paragraph to the man
because it is what you believe is right.
This type of love is the devotion of time and energy without any promise of compensation in return,
purely out of the good of heart.
Phileo lasts as long as the people do.
The final type of love
is Agape;
unconditional love.
In religion,
we are guided
or pushed
towards showing this type of love towards the diety.
Yet, very rarely
it is shown towards a human being.
Unconditional love
is the ability to say so much with only uttering a single word.
I have experienced this love,
it is great pain
and great sadness
but the feelings of pain will never leave my lips
in case they are transferred to the person i wish to have the least pain.
This kind of love
is when it is not only enough that you think about them every waking moment but every slumber-filled one as well. You have hung up your needs at the front door along with the key to your heart and devoted yourself entirely to them,
even if they don't reciprocate.
They have been adopted by your body and taken the form of a vital *****.
If you do not
pay absolute attention
to them at all times
you will run into many problems.
You need to keep them running smoothly in order to stay alive and healthy,
because without them you are nothing.
You are a sorry sack of bones with a beating heart with no purpose.
Unconditional love is taking all the lessons you have ever learned
all the rights and wrongs you have finally learned the difference between and throwing them out the window.
It is the thin line between sanity and insanity,
heaven and hell,
and safety and danger.
You walk the rope
from building to building
without the promise of a net.
Unconditional love
is authentic,
but not emphemeral.
((Love *****, don't do it.))

i am not a poet.
poets are the sad ones awake at three a.m. mourning over the sad loss of their lover.
poets are the ones yearning to love, and to be loved the same.
poets are beautiful, dangerous and tragic. every word that they speak is a dagger in your side, the slow knife that cuts the deepest.
poets are the ones who realise the power of words, so they choose them carefully (they know they could be choosing their fate).
poets know that the absence of words is just as important as the presence.
poets are born, not crafted.
maybe i am a poet.

the words 'you will forever stay in our hearts'
are like tattoos written on our bodies.
we are promised to our loved ones
to never forget them
as we move on without their hobbies.

but we do,
yes, we do.
we forget them as if they were just a piece of paper,
and break that promise as if it were a broken finger.

why make promises,
when in the end, the ocean will wash them away?
why trust people,
when in the end, they'll throw you along the way?

that's the point of tinted promises.
and my promise was to live on with life.
but with the people in it,
i'm starting to get tired
of chasing cars that are not worth running for
because once they open that car door,
they'll hurt you again once more.

it begins with an apology:
I'm so sorry
that I only have words to-
express-
convey-
explain-
-my love for you
because
no words can-
compare-
describe-
-accurately this hurricane of emotion
that twists and grows,
faster and faster,
inside my-
heart-
mind-
soul-

i'm no good with talking-
that's something that comes out of
my mouth like gnats.
awkward, rather unpleasant.
writing, yes.
i can write a bit.
essays, no
speeches, no
stories, no.
but poetry,
i write that for you.
my poems speak my heart
because it has no voice box.
i think i've always known i'd find you,
always known that these poems floating
inside me
were for you.
i've always known i'd love you.

this is how i say thank you
this is how i let you know
that the pancakes you make taste like gold
and your eyes say that they love me
over and over.

boys come through my life
like pennies facing backwards

you are so much more
so much more
so much
more.
gosh
i have these feelings,
THESE FEELINGS
i've never felt
you put them there,
like you lay blankets over me when i'm sleeping,
how you rub your thumb
along my cheek
sweet, darling, sweet.

you build me up higher than
mountain tops
gosh
i have these feelings
and here's your poem. they're all for you.
because all this love
-that's what i'm feeling-
it's for you too.