I Am Terrified That

butterflies

there is something so nice

about having a new crush

someone new to look for

in the hallways on the way to class

someone i can tell my friends about

someone to text and to giggle over

i wish that the butterflies

could always be so uncomplicated

words may never truly express

the gratitude i feel

to have travelled to

the depths of despair.

after all,

it brought me you.

the combination of unlikely events

flutter in effect, endlessly changing

the possibility of what could be.

even then, i'm still content.

it brought me you.

isn't that enough, then?

tribulations and uncertainties:

i shed my past "self"

in the aftermath.

it was all worth it,

because

"it brought me you."

d.b.a

for s.

Recognition

one day i will be

able to see myself in

the mirror again.

time wasnt right

there is dust

in my childhood bedroom

cobwebs span the corners

reaching out

to touch

the abandoned walls

everything is covered in dust

my books

my floor

my collections, long since abandoned

touch anything and you'll

come away

with gray residue

reminiscent of a life once lived

only

i am still here

living

right?

or am i, too

covered in dust

a relic

of a former girl

this isnt how life is supposed to be

i told them i love them

for the first time today

and i half expected their

response to be, "i know."

i have said it in

a thousand ways already.

my love, for you i will learn

to say it in a million more.

—mars

It's okay if it takes a little longer than you thought.

i wld peel my heart like an orange for u if only u wanted it !

with every inch of you a miracle, their palates growing weary of wine, this grace from which you've fallen, that grave from which you climb,

with every mile of you like magic, stretched, a black ribbon round me,

a hare in your hat,

the curtain drawn - you saw me in half

and every half of me a creature, atlas-shoulered brittle, butterfly wings

flapping,

a sea of typhoon winds at my command

everyday it’s like. tomorrow will come and it will get better. and sometimes it does, sometimes it doesn’t. and that’s how it is. and we have to keep hoping and hoping and hoping because you never know if the sun will shine or not the next day. and you know it will always eventually shine.

“When you can tell your story and it doesn’t make you cry, that’s when you know you’ve healed.”

— Unknown