Forgiveness takes twoThe words are strugglingto tumble off my tongue,and despite havinga fleshy cushionto rest on,they stain my teethand sting like acid"I'm sorry," I stutter,but the bitter tastedoesn't leave my tongue-not because the words weren't true,but because I knowI won't hear,"me too."
The tough gets growingI'm knee-deep in mud,grumbling and mumblingabout what I didto deserve this messAnd my mother glares,saying,"When I planted you,I put you deep in the dirt,not to bury you alive,but to teach you thatwhen the growing gets tough,the tough gets growing."
A message to the brokenYou drown yourselfin liquid sorrows,letting the salty messburn your wounds,and the sadnessto drip in your mouth,consuming your wordsand you sayyou deserve the pain,but I want to dry your face,and whisper in your earhow the clouds cry too,while they hold such beauty,and so do you.
Candle WaxYou meltmy heartlike candle wax,but I'm afraidover timeI'll getburnt.
IntrovertEveryone's tryingto get out ofthe shadowof their parents-I'm here tryingto get out ofthe shadowof myself.
Melancholy thoughtsI tastethe sweetnessin your words,only to wonderhow many othershave tastedthem too.
It's okay to be differentFitting in's a trap:they put you inside the box,and then close the lid.
GoodbyeI want to mutter a million things,but they’re catching in my throatAnd my heart is heavy in my chest,with a weight that holds a heavy loadThis weight is not a pound of gold,but rather a pound of worthless rocksAnd now I’m spitting bits of gravelas I try to talk
ShipI missed you todayI regretfully say,My feelings are tidesmoving every which wayThe image of youshall be washed apart,As the shore and the oceando gently departAnd the way that my feetleft prints on the sand,Is the way that I feltwhen you held my handBut it's time to move on,this ship's found new land,The anchor is sunk,and I will withstand
Lonely:When you'reso unwantedthat evenyour thoughtschooseto exityour company.
Pretty metaphors are for pretty girlsI told you to stopspewing pretty metaphors at me,for with each elaborate comparison,I feel a bit moredetached from this worldAnd maybe I don’t feel so strong at the moment,but would you beif you felt like the entire universewas resting upon your shoulders,and someone was just there saying:But you’re stronger than the powerful beatsof a butterfly’s wingsAnd maybe I do need more confidence,but would you exuberate itwhen the part you hated most about yourselfwere the freckles that have speckled your face for years,and someone was just there muttering:They’re not flaws,but rather stars that form constellationsYes, I can’t help but hateall those unrealistic metaphorsyou choose to pelt at me when I’m low,yet the irony is,I know that those beautiful wordsare realistic in your eyes,So I can’t hate you.
Cement HeartI built a wallaround my heart,and sworeI'd never let you inbut the more time thatI spend with you,allows the beatsto crackthe cement.
LungsMaybe ifour lungsexhaled moneyinstead ofcarbon dioxide,we'd valuelifea little more(or maybe we'd just go broke).
It's Okay to be ImperfectThe moonhas craterstoo,and lookhow brightit shines,even inthe darkestof times.
When you lose a best friendWhen we said friends forever andcrossed pinkies like grade-schoolers,I could only believe those wordslodged in your heartlike they did minebecause every time I think backI can't help but remember thelate-night conversationsunder star lit constellations,and study sessions where welearned more about each otherthan we did Biology but now it's clearthat each beat of your hearthas made those words fade,and you could care lessabout crossed pinkiesbut I'll still see you,and hear your voicewhisperingforever, and I'll still wishthe meaning hadn't changed-like you.
the dead and the dyingthe funny thing abouthumans is thatwe think we areinvincible and immortalgods.no—we're allroadkill,living ina tainted worldwhere cars drivetoo damn fast.and me,well,i just try toget by withoutbeing hitmore than once.
Railroad TracksYou drawrailroad trackson your wristhoping themetal-made grooveswill takeyou somewherebetterBut these tracksyou're chugging along ononly put youon a trainthat is zoomingtoward a deep,dark tunnelAnd at the end of this tunnel,there is no light.
You only fly for a little whileShe was just four years oldkicking her feetharder and harder,as the swingset creakedand crackedShe finally reached the peak,jumped off,and said,"Mama, I'm gonna fly."and so she did;three feet into the air,sticking the landinglike a gymnastAnd I wonder everydayif those were the same wordsshe mutteredbefore jumping off that bridge,unable to remember,you only fly for a little while.
Unsaid truths and spoken hateunsaid truths and spoken hate will forever be how I remember you.I won't remember your petiteand deliciously sweet smile.I won't remember the nervous way you'd embrace meas though my open arms might be retracted at any moment.I won't remember your kindnesswrought from a belief you deservednone of what life had been willingto bless upon you.I won't remember how I nearly lovedevery little part of youfrom your crooked smirkto your large handsmolded perfectly to fit in mine.I will remember your cowardiceyour fear of the possibility of my love.I will remember your lieswhispered sweetly to mein that empty library of how you thought we could last together.I will remember all the embittered and loving words which choked me as you forcedsuch hat
The Girl Who Was Afraid To BeShe speaks to me fondlyof passions and talents,of guitars and stars,with such breathless intensitythen stops short andapologisesfor speaking at all.All because somewhere in her life,someone she loved broke her heartby ignoringher beautiful wordsand telling her toshut up,keep it down,nobody cares.People aren’t born sad.We make them that way.
shatteredi watched youlay the darkest partsof yourself along my bed,kept you safe as theygrew violent.they may stillbite like razors,but your armorhas grown thicker.
We see different starsWe see different starsWhile yours shine throughoutthe darkness of your night,light the way into your sky,and hold your wishes tilthey finally come true,mine reflect in the murky filthfrom which they can be seenacting as disgusting mirrorsinto a world which cannot be mine
Sanctuary?Shadows Can't Follow You In The Dark.
.what doesn't kill youcomes back with something strongerto finish the job
Behind the WordsWe spill our pain across the pages.But we must smile when it is read.For we cannot show our true emotions.Not of suffering, anxiety, or dread.For we are the bringers of dreams to the world.Our words are tales of healing light.So hide your tears behind a mask,And save them for a quiet night.
dearly belovedthese daysyour name has been slippingin and out of my rib cageand sometimes,my heart forgets to beat.it's funny,i suppose—how even after all these months i stilldon't want to believe thatyou're dead. how during thefirst couple of weeks i prayedto a god i didn't believe in and begged to knowif death tasted sweet to you. how once,when the monsters in my headdidn't let me sleep, iwrote you three poems and thendestroyed four.you were a supernova thatlit up my life fora few radiant moments before,like all good things in thisfilthy world,you came to an end.the sinner in me hopes that you have wings now.but i think that,most of all,i hope you no longerremember what painfeels like.
TreatyThe long warBetween the heart and brainHas ended.A treaty has been signed.Finally,Bringing harmony between selfAnd community.We call it poetry.
Apologies to a friendYou pour your heart out to me,and are willingto submerge mein an oceanof loveyet when I see the waterrushing towards me,I convince myselfI don't liketo swim