#youngpoets

We were ugly, but we did it together.

One fist full of hair, the other with matches.

You tore me apart and I set us afire.

What we created was beautiful,

It was raw, and it spoke truth.

Now we stand, empty handed.

Our flames died out, we watch our

Ashes fall from separate eyes. Oceans away.

The seas from which we view the world,

Change is like ripping your heart from your throat as it chokes up. 

When I finally decide to withdraw my longing, Change clings to me for a little while.

It pulls out a child that was hiding in my heart as it begs with an empty stomach. 

It wants to feel full. I know it wants to feel full and 

I wish I could be as full as the healthiest adult. 

But how can the adult be full, as once an empty child. 

I can't stagger at beauty if it wasn't my reality, 

I can't give more when I take twice as much

And I can't be a full adult after being an empty child. 

to have laughed as an empty child and to cry as an empty adult 

And to divulge into mindless self torture, feeling the pit of my stomach fold in on itself,

Change is like scrubbing a big red stain from your light colored underwear

So the smell of ovulation won't linger on your body for longer than it needs to. 

Like when looking in the mirror was easier, and you stuck to your roots. 

Change is acknowledging when you were wrong,

The surface never showed, 

A trick of the light, 

Devilish waters, 

Half up, half down,

Long dress, tight bodice, 

Large hat, trailing train, 

Ballroom centrepiece.

Like a cleaned up mirror, 

Glittering dust in your eyes, 

Gave you my scars, 

Stiches undone. 

I showed you yourself, 

But who’s there to show me, 

My limbs for someone else’s cause, 

Who am I but an idea, 

Summer promises on hot noon swims, 

A group of us, splashed out laughters, 

Thought we’ll last forever, 

Tied together, hidden needles. 

It fades, and it fades, 

Promises turned to hellos, 

Hellos turned to smiles, 

Smiles turned stares. 

The last stare we gave, 

It was done, 

Some stayed only looking back, 

A classic game of solitaire, 

Me and the cards, all is well, 

No questions asked, 

No answers needed,

Me against myself. 

I find solace in empty corridors. 

Only the ghost of laughters to call a friend,

It was me, myself, and no one else, 

My tapping feet, filling in the gaps, 

Noises blurred, just a silent melody. 

It never lasts forever, 

I hear the flood gates cracking, 

Their voices echoing, 

Shattering my peace,

Just one sip, 

Sweaty bodies and sweaty glasses, 

An odd game of truth or dare, 

Dark jokes and under eyes, 

Put me under the spotlight, 

What do they want…

Just one puff, he said. 

One never hurts, I know my rights and wrongs, 

An itching curiosity, 

Who am I to say no,