Pretty Girl With Sad Eyes

I wish it would go away, the trembling of my nerves when I wake up and her face is the first thing on my mind.

I remember those days when I first met her.

She was a gem. A Rose amongst Dandelions. 

Little did I know her thorns were razor sharp.

I’d’ve seen them had I not been blinded by her smile, luminous in its deceit. 

The kind of smile that hides her sad eyes.

The eyes that have watched her heart break a thousand times. 

The eyes have watched her hands build a wall so massive Mongols couldn’t get through.

I tried to bring it down but I couldn’t. 

I tried to bring love to her doorstep. Tried to help her feel again, but I failed.

She’ll be hiding behind that wall, like her eyes behind that smile.

Forgetting what it feels like to let someone in.


To Her

I hate when I don’t get a reply from you. I also hate that I haven’t heard your voice in four days. I hate that you live so far from me. I hate that you’re the first person I think of when I get up, but I also like that it reminds me of the good times we’ve shared. I like to read our conversations but I hate that there aren’t more of them to read. I can’t look at the color red or pink without thinking of you. But it makes me miss you. It makes me smile when I think of how affectionate you are when we’re together, but I don’t like how distant you are when we’re apart. I don’t know if to call it an infatuation, or if I’m actually feeling something for you. We’re not committed to each other but the thought of someone else enjoying your presence makes me cringe. The thought of them getting to feel your skin, smell your hair, kiss your lips, and bask in your radiance is difficult to bear. I wish I could just turn a switch and make these feelings go away when you’re not around. It’s painful. I want to skip this part where I’m competing for your attention. You have all of mine, when will I have all of yours?

Don’t Forget

Don’t forget you’re beautiful. You’re beauty personified. You make men tremble when you walk by. You make every igneous piece of matter burst back into flames. There’s no end to the glimmer in your eyes. If I had only one sight for the rest of my breathing existence I wish it were you. Incomparable in your confidence. Your voice can reach my drums in the vacuum of space. It’s unique, unmistakable, musical. You smell of a thousand roses dancing in a crisp spring morning breeze. Your taste is sweet, like cherry pie. Your skin smooth and inviting. I need a night with you, maybe two. I want to make your body shiver as it’s driven to ecstacy. I want this memory of you forever. Don’t forget I want you forever. 

the truth

“…everyone I know says…I always seem, happy, truth is I’m always depressed, sorry I let you down.”

People go through things they often don’t share with others. It’s important to think about what you say to people because you never know where their real emotions lie. That dark cloud hides in plain sight.

Those Words Are Dangerous

Those words she says to you. Syllables have never been so beautiful. They make you feel invincible. The right ones coming from her perfect lips. A piercing  sound through a flawless smile. This moment is sublime, until it changes. 

Hours come and go, that perfect moment is long gone; but you were unaware that behind her eyes was the truth. Those words were dangerous because they carry an air of uncertainty. Your ears hear one thing, your mind another, and your heart braces itself hoping for the best. Those words are dangerous because they change overnight. One night she’s yours, in your bed, in your clutches, the next she’s gone, not looking  back. 

Words aren’t final, they don’t mean anything. 

One Decent Leg

This is the time when things get deep. This is the time when I start thinking about the heartaches and the stressful moments that led to bad decisions. The texts I couldn’t unsend, the words I couldn’t unsay, the hopes and dreams I couldn’t take back—empty promises. Dreading the thought of having ever taken someone’s happiness and replacing it with sorrow.

 “That wasn’t me, it couldn’t have been, I’m not that kind of person.”

I lie to myself and pretend I’m not capable of hurting. I know the feeling too well to place it on someone else. If only it were true. If only I weren’t human, then I wouldn’t have that capacity. I’m a decent person. I don’t do it intentionally, I don’t do it because I want to, I don’t do it because I enjoy it. It just happens. Again, and again, and again, and again…