The nights
When the moon
Lights up those
Normally dark streets
Are the nights
When you can find me
Wandering
Underneath the moonlight
With inspiration sprinting about
In my head
As I’m living in bliss.

Drifting in and out
Of consciousness,
Losing track of what’s
Real and what was just
A dream,
Focus is barely there.

Did I say something?

How long have I been
Gone
For?

And then my eyes
Are closed again.

It's like I'm skating

without ice.

You make him out
To be a monster of a man,
But I can prove to you
That he’s not.

Lost Dreams.

I stand
In the middle of this empty field
As my shoes become soaked by the grass.
On the sidewalk in the distance
I watch you take your final steps
Away from me,
And away from our memories.
Before you step out of sight,
You take one glance back at me
At the same time a shooting star crosses the sky.

That falling star
Carries millions of wishes
From hopeful, desperate people
That will never come true.

And as I watch that
Falling star above you,
I watch my dreams fall with it.

The First Time He Saw My Face.

The first time I presented
myself to him
while lacking makeup
I expected the worst.

He asked me
to lay down and close my eyes.
Afraid of what he might do,
and feeling self conscious,
I did anyway.

I was slightly startled when I felt
the warmth of his hand
caressing my face.

His fingers
touched each curve,
each bump,
and each imperfection
of my naked face.
He brushed and pet my eyebrows,
noticing their true color.
His fingers tickled my eyelashes
as I imagined a frown
forming upon his face
in disappointment.
He traced his fingers
along and around my lips,
memorizing their shape,
before softly kissing me.
With little pressure,
he massaged my cheeks…
and my temples,
causing me to relax.
He swiped my bangs
to the side of my face
to uncover my forehead:
a place he had never seen before,
even when buried beneath makeup.

After minutes,
he moved down to my arms,
my torso,
my legs,
my feet,
and my back,
rubbing and massaging
every inch of my body.
His fingers danced
on my body;
he used the fingernails of his
that were barely existent
to lightly run across
my beckoning skin.

And after he was done,
all I could do
was stare and smile at him,
and hope
he could read the words in my eyes:
I love you.

Come Back... Please

I must learn to move on.

When our
Supposedly romantic relationship
Dies,
I will always be the first to
Move onto another
Vulnerable person.
Yet, when it’s
Our precious friendship
That ends,
It is I
Who will forever dwell
On what was previously there.
It is I
Who freezes the day constantly
Just to reminisce
And wish so hard
For the people of the past to come back
That tears fall.

Am I the only one
Who longs
For life to rewind,
Even if only for a day,
So to say a proper goodbye?

You Were Forgotten.

Your name crosses my vision
And I have to take a second look
In order to remember
That
I used to know you.
A recent picture
Of your pretty face
With that stunning smile
I used to see everyday
Stands out among
The blurry ones
With unfamiliar people.
As memories of
Our days together
Flood my head
A pang
Of slight aching
Slowly begins in my chest
While my entire face
Droops
In sadness.

A World Without Hate

A world
without hate
is a world many long for.

Hate has been drilled
into our minds
and hearts
ever since we were children.
It has caused
emotional damage
that is beyond repair,
scarring people
and changing
their views on the human race.
Hate is often taken further,
to a physical level,
targeting specific individuals,
random strangers,
groups of people,
and people who are just
in the wrong place
at the wrong time.

Hate itself
is hated.

With the lack of
such a strong, common emotion though,
where would we be?

Most would assume
that without hate
they would be able
to walk alone in the streets
without the fear
of being attacked
for who they are
or what they’ve done.
It would be assumed
that everyone
would be friendly to each other;
no harsh, judgmental words
would be thrown at innocent people
on a daily basis
for the sole purpose
of hurting them emotionally.
And without others sending
hate towards them,
they would have no reason
to hate themselves.

But can’t you all see
that none of that is true?

Without hate
we would be without love.
Every emotion must have an opposite
in order to exist.
If there was no hate
none of us would know what love is,
because there would be no
opposite emotion
to compare love to.
The range of emotions
a person is capable of
would be lessened,
and the emotion above hate
would likely be considered
to be hate;
it would still exist.
It will always exist.

We don’t need to change
the amount of hate
in this world.
More acceptance and forgiveness
is what’s needed in this world instead.

I had a dream…

I dreamed of the day
When my skin would be flawless,
And not an ounce of unwanted fat
Would sit uselessly on my body.

I dreamed of my future career
In front of a camera.
I could show off my photographic
Body and expressions
With unique poses.
I’d be captured perfectly,
If only I were my own photographer.

I dreamed of a birthday
Full of masks.
Women in beautiful ball gowns
Swaying around a room
With handsome men in tuxedos.
I would be another
Mysterious, unknown face amongst the crowd.

I dreamed of myself
Dressing up in a gorgeous prom dress
Like no other,
With my brown hair grown long and luscious
And my face glowing with happiness.

…and it was crushed.

Moving Shadows.

Through the window
The sun’s rays shine.
Across my feet
The light hits.
To my bare eyes
The light and heat
Is unmoving,
Yet every time I look down
More shadows
Crawl over me,
Pushing the rays away
And replacing them with
The cold that comes with
A lack of sun.

Times goes by so fast,
Dragging the warmth of the summer sun
With it,
Unnoticed.

A birthday is just another day for you to get your hopes and expectations as high as the clouds, but then have them crushed into tears.

Teardrops.

The refreshment cold tears
Running down your face
Inch by inch
Gives
Is incredible;
All anger and sadness is able
To leave your body
At the same time
And through the same,
Harmless method.
Nobody knows that you’re crying
Unless they look at your hidden face,
Because the teardrops fall
Silently.
While looking at the ground
To hide your face
You can see them
Splattering on the floor
Through blurred vision.
And after the release is done
There is no trace of it left.

Eye-Opener.

You know what? I do feel sorry for you.
I feel sorry that you were weak enough to fall into her trap
And become her victim.
You were just what she was always looking for:
Someone with a good life,
Someone with potential,
Someone that’s too-nice,
And someone
Hoping for love.
You were stupid
And fell hopelessly in love with this fiend;
What a shame.
I sat back and watched her take advantage of you
And your poor soul;
The drugs she shoved down your throat,
And the classes she forced you to skip,
And the family and friends she lost you
Were all for her own entertainment.
She told you ridiculous, heart-wrenching lies
To hold your attention
And keep you by her side,
And only now does she speak the truth.
Only now do you all see what I saw all along:
A pathetic girl attempting to drag
Everyone above her
Down into her hell of a life.

A Fractured Life.

How long has it been now?
A month?
Two months, three months, six months?
A year?
…Two years?
It feels like it has been going on forever,
For my entire life.

And now,
Years later,
I look back
And realize
It was only a small fracture of my life
That I barely remember.
And then I manage a
Small laugh
At how big of a deal I made it
Back then.

The littlest things become
Magnified,
Causing panic,
Until reality kicks in
Years later
To show you
How silly you were being.

Asexuality.

Lies—
Simple one- or two-word lies
Told to hide
What I consider to be
My secret.
Is it always
The things that make you
Who you are
That you try
Desperately to keep hidden
From even the ones
Closest to you?

Am I still
In the closet
As long as I lie
And keep the truth to myself
Out of fear?
No, not out of fear—
Out of knowing that
My sexuality
Will destroy
All future relationships for me.
But I’m an actress;
Can’t I act like
I’m not asexual?
But
I am asexual.
Who In their right mind
Would want an asexual?
How many people
Can say they’ve dated one?
And how many
Of those people
Can honestly say
They enjoyed it?
So many of our beings
Are naturally sexual,
So why would one choose
Someone who is not at all?

Games.

I like the games
As long as
I’m in control.
Their
Fighting and struggling
To win
Amuse me
Knowing that there
Is no winner;
They’re just being used.

Before It's Gone.

One could easily
Take for granted
The beautiful view
Of mountains and
An ocean
Outside their window.
It’s only when
New, huge houses
Get built
To block the view
That it’s realized
They should have
Cherished what they had
Before it was gone.

No pictures were ever taken of it-
There were barely even any
Glances out the window
To admire the beautiful
View of nature.

Childhood Memories.

A splash
Of a memory
From my childhood
Arises while in the shower.

I cup my hands together
Underneath the falling water,
Gathering the warm water in my hands
Until it starts to overflow.
Then, with a sudden movement
I let it all go
And listen to the booming sound it makes
As it slams against the shower floor.
I gather the water
Once more in my hands,
But this time
Throw it up in the air
Like celebratory confetti
And feel it
Sprinkle back down on me.

Theivery.

In a world taken over by technology
It is not easy
To avoid and hide from
Cameras—
A popular electronic
Enjoyed by many
That are meant
To capture memories
In the form of pictures to keep forever.

“Photographers” are everywhere;
On the train, in the streets, at the beach,
Dying to get that perfect photo
Of those exotic flowers
Or that intriguing stranger.

When one with odd beliefs about cameras
Sees the unmistakable
Flash
Of a camera
Hit them like lightning,
Their whole world freezes
In a wave of panic
As they slowly turn their head
To spot the human
With the camera
Pointed directly at them.
The picture taken
Inches its way out of the camera—
It’s a Polaroid.
The victim of the photographer wishes
That with unfamiliar speed
He could
Run,
Snag the photo,
And disappear.
But instead
He just stands there,
Horrified,
As he fades away
With his soul.