Collection Of Personal Poems

I hope she has love in her life:

I hope she has love in her life when she opens her eyes in the morning, I hope it wakes her up as much as that first sip of coffee. I hope she can create art through out her days just off of the love that surrounds her. I want nothing more than to watch her arm's reach out like branches on a tree asking for flowers to blossom on them through spring. Does she yearn for spring? To be made a new? Or maybe she doesn’t want a blossoming spring this year, just a rainy summer.


Sleepwalker:

At 3:02 am I would always hear the sweetest things from the one I loved

She would sleep walk and talk at this certain time, but she wouldn’t just walk around; she danced with every word that left her mouth. “I love you” was stringed with a pearl of pirouettes and “I hope to always be yours” was marched around with such intimacy..

Her eyes never opened but her smile was always clear and bright as the moonlight She remember doing this or she just says she doesn’t

So from 3:02 am to 3:46 am I would watch my precious sleepwalked tell me I was her world for years.


Watching from the outside:

She fell once in front of her friends and they all aided to her as if she might of lost her balance from a basic mistake but her bruised and swollen esophagus matched with her frail limbs told a different story than just stepping one foot over the other.

What happened is not a romanticized version, it’s rather the truth of the demon that took her into his arms. How her throat is covered in scabs, how her head is always begging for food, how emotional she tends to be, how lost she feels. It’s not romantic, it’s devastating.


When I realized you weren’t the first to not want me:

“If you’re not admired for your presence, find a different room.”


Gender identity/ sexual orientation

What is it?:

Is it the doctor that proclaimed it to the parents or the parents who bought the specific toys from the companies or the companies that label shampoo “for girls” and baseballs “for boys”

Is it the friends who ask you “what boy do you like in the class” as they pull on your ponytail

Or the clothes that are an XL in the woman size and tight as skin but a M in a men's shirt is comfortable and not so sexualized.


Comparison will kill you:

I compare myself too much to the girl next door, the one with thighs that don’t flop around when I walk or chins that don’t double themselves every time I laugh. Although I do like my smile, but that quickly fades the second I see how well she can contour her face. I mean i like the way my hips look in a flattering dress, but hers doesn’t have her belly sticking out like I do. Am I less because of how much better I perceive her to be? Should I be jealous or inspired? Oh no, I’m being rude to her by just having a different body than me. She can’t have the same self esteem issues as me, she is so beautiful.


I compare myself too much to the girl next door, the one with the thick thighs that attract so many people and the laugh that seems so effortless and full of joy. Although I do like my smile, I had to spend hours contouring my face when she looks just as good natural. I mean I like the way my hips look in a flattering dress, but I don’t have much underneath to show them. Am I less because of how much better I perceive her to be? Should I be jealous or inspired? Oh no, I’m being rude to her by just having a different body than me. She can’t have the same self esteem issues as me, she is so beautiful.
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