gItcH prInCeSs

He told me don't be vanilla so I let him put his hands on me but not in a nice way though because I thought it would make him like me But im convinced I only ever wanted it rough because he conditioned me to believe that the time I look most beautiful is with his hand wrapped around my neck he told me that watching me look up at him with lifeless eyes gets him off So I compromised soft touch and caressing hands for hands that would rather grab me and pull me and expect me to be in two places at once and god forbid I want the type of kiss that doesn't leave an aching I told him tonight I don't want marks scattered on my skin I want you to litter my heart with fingerprints And he told me don't be vanilla You see i'm afraid that the time I look most beautiful to him is with my head buried in the pillow

You can write for hours on hours, Of all the things that you wish you could be, But the truth of the matter is simple, People are not poetry, And I know that you wish you weren’t awkward, That sweet words could roll right off your tongue, But your time here’s too short just to worry, How each single sentence is strung, It’s okay to be rough round the edges, To be bruised up and broken and scarred, But it’s not okay to let people tell you , That it’s a reason to change who you are, Your hair doesn’t always sit neatly, The way a poem sits so neatly in lines, And sometimes you might feel like a word, That nobody has learnt to define, You might not be a star that lights darkness, Or a bird that can teach us to soar, But it’s okay, because you are too complex, To be crammed into one metaphor, It’s okay not to know what you’re doing, Since your feelings don’t have to all rhyme Through a poem once complete is eternal, You have the freedom to change over time, You’re much more than can ever be written, There is no title to say, “ This is Me”, You can’t be trapped in the lines of a notebook, Because people are not poetry.

You are not your age, Nor the size of clothes you wear, You are not a weight, Or the color of your hair, You are not your name, Or the dimples in your cheeks, You are all the books you read, And all the words you speak, You are your croaking morning voice, And the smiles you tried to hide, You’re the sweetness in your laughter, and every tear you’ve cried, You’re the songs you sing so loudly, When you know you’re all alone, You’re the places that you’ve been to, And the one that you call home, You’re the things that you believe in, And the people that you love, You’re the photos in you’re bedroom, And the future you dream of, You’re made of so much beauty, But it seems like you forgot, When you decided that you were defined, By all the things you’re not.

Perhaps we’re not afraid of death But of our name plucked from the air, Of the silence that surrounds a thing That’s just no longer there. For we never really know The lifespan of a single sound, How many years after a body stops A name will stick around. Perhaps it stretches generations Echoes one last time, then never, Until the space it filled’s replaced By it’s unknown loss forever. Or maybe there’s another way It lives after we fade, It’s why we write our names’ on books we own And all we’d ever made. It’s a sliver of remembrance In a world prone to forget, The taste of who we were On lips of one we never met. The hope they’ll stumble on the stories We have loved, worn down with age, That there they’ll find what we had left: Our name upon the cover page. And for just that fleeting moment It’s as though we’ve beaten death, That in the whisper of those words We have taken one more breath.

You hated your eye color, Called it a dull and dirty brown, Wished for the deep blue of an ocean, Where admirers hearts would drown, And it pained me when I realized, You’d never see it like I do, The way your eyes hint at a story, That I want to read right through, They hold specks of stolen sunlight, That you’d miss with just one glance, And a depth of raw emotion, That can freeze you in a trance, They’re a fix of melted chocolate, When I’m craving something sweet, But hold a gaze that’s so unwavering, That I find it hard to meet, I fall right down the rabbit hole, When I look into your eyes, The brown of the earth’s unfettered beauty, That I yearn to memorize, When I was tired of not belonging, They made me feel like I’d been found, And I hope you never say again, That your eyes are simply brown.

From the second that you’re in this world , They tell you what is “ fair” , The questions you’re allowed to ask, And the ones you wouldn’t dare, Placed on the path they’ve paved for you, Life pushes you along, Without the chance to stop and think, If it’s right where you belong, But beyond your pathway’s edges, Is where living really starts, A land of risk and danger, And a land of broken hearts, They’ll tell you you should fear this land, That there’s no good there at all, As they live their lives as they’ve been taught, Behind expectation’s wall, But the best people you will ever meet, Have wandered off their track, Found themselves along the way, And have no need to wonder back, So forget about life’s road map, Follow your heart at any cost, For you’ll never truly find yourself, If you’re too scared to get lost

Our lives are one big puzzle, we don’t know how many pieces we’ve got, There are people that fit in quite nicely, And people who try but do not, We’re constantly adding more pieces, All the memories of things we’ve been through, We add laughter and tears and adventure, And the lessons we’ve learnt to be true, Everyone has their own puzzle, Their will be ones where you do not fit, Don’t you ever dare make your piece smaller, Just so you can live there for a bit, If you keep cutting off all your edges, One day you won’t recognize what you see, And you’ll forget the person you once were, Before the world told you who you should be, Make the most of each piece in your puzzle, It’ll be a grand masterpiece when it’s done, So you won’t have to look back when it’s over, And realize you’ve left out the sun.