The Poetry Series 1.0

“An opportunity is different than a chance. You choose what to do with the situation you’re in.”

his eyes

his eyes had the ability to stop time and entrance mine


the way your soul

sparkled in the darkness

like coals still glimmering

in the ashes of a bonfire

attracted my heart to yours

as I tried to ignite

your fire.

a shell


does not lie 

in the shell

it is the way

the inside 

displays a thousand different hues.

happier now

i know you’re happier now

without the burden of my demons

weighing you down.



who tells me 

they’ll never leave

always does

so i guess that it’s my turn

to leave them behind

in search for the part of 


who is okay 

with being alone.

shimmering gold

tell me

your dreams

deepest secrets

and insecurities,

let me see 

your naked soul

and allow me to 

clothe you in 

shimmering gold.

up here.

i want to take you

up into my head

where the sky is red

and the clouds are blue

and where every little thing

reminds me of you.

erase you

shards of eraser

fall to my pillow

as i try to rub you away

from my memory

but you’re like a permanent marker

your smell, your jet black hair, your defined body

everything about you

is unerasable

so instead i just let time

smear you away

until i can’t recognize 

the art of you anymore.

deleting me

forgetting me

is not as rewarding

as accepting and then moving on 

from our past together

instead of force deleting me

from your hard drive.

bribing our world

i’m afraid

of being a failure to the people

i love the most

because they deserve the world

and it kills me

that i am unable to give 

all of this universe to them.

i can only offer pieces of myself

to the world

in exchange for their happiness.


a picture captures a scene

a laugh captures happiness

a tear captures sorrow

your heart captured mine


i’m called insane

it’s more of a personal gain

everyone else sees it as a claim to fame

but it’s more of a super game.

i play with my mind

until there’s nothing left

then i throw myself away

like i was an unwanted guest.

toxic dirty soul

poisioness toxic dirty soul

here, let me cleanse you

and show you

what love can really do

let me transform you

i’m not afraid to get my hands dirty

they’ve been soiled before

with the trash 

inside myself

that i purified
not too long ago.


crave the unknown

discover the hidden

figure out the mysterious

i still need you

lost, hopless, and confused

my only thought is 

“i still need you”.


ghosts of my past 

still haunt me 

like a poisioness gas

suffocating my thoughts

as my insides

burn to ash


my soul recognized yours,

my soul loved yours,

my soul misses yours.


missing you is like sticking my heart into super glue

a rose

love is like a rose. it starts off as a tiny, blooming bud, its colors peaking through the tip of its stem. then, with time, sunshine, and a little bit of rain, the flower rose bud blooms into a beautiful flower. its leaves spread out, its petals burst with color as it embraces the sunny daze, autumn haze and summer sun. then, as winter creeps in, with dark clouds and chilly winds, our precious little rose starts to close again. its colors melt away, its petals start to crumble. all that’s left by the first frozen snow is a broken stem with seething thorns and brittle, dry petals that have disappeared under the snow.

the flower that was crushed by the cold of winter soon starts to grow again, this time, even bigger and more glorious than before. 

no matter how broken, damaged, or colorless you are right now, you can bloom again too, and you will. 

nothing 2 say

I let you in

I let you see

most of the very worst parts of me

and in that moment

I was relieved

and later

I wanted to believe

that you wouldn’t be scared

but you ran away

you gave up

and claim

that you have nothing left to say.

love fallout

people don’t fall out of love.

they fall in love with something else,

or someone else,

or themselves,

and this love is capable of replacing

their last love.


lately, I’ve been letting my thoughts take me captive.

now, my captors are sharpening their knives,

and stabbing my heart

as they beat my mind.

marry her

he told me that he wanted to marry me someday.

now he’s telling her the same thing.

woman pt. 1

she was magnetic to everyone around her

she was strong and confident

she was brave and beautiful

but nobody dared to look past the outside

and see the parts of her

that allowed her to get to this successful state of being.

nobody dared

to take the time nor energy

to care about her story

and figure out her weak spots

because they were too afraid of

getting destroyed by a woman

who to them

only displayed strength.


look up at the stars

and I’m there looking at them too

touch your heart

and mine is beating in the same rhythm

close your eyes

and clear your mind

and when I pop up

don’t be afraid to smile

because I’m connected with you

no matter how many miles.


you look in the mirror

and what do you see?

maybe you ask yourself

“is this really me?”

you put some makeup

after you’ve splashed some water

onto your face

but somehow

you still feel like

you’re just a blob filling up

the empty space.

my darling

you are beautiful

inside and out

you must train yourself to see

the canvas

you are as clean.

it’s okay to be smeared

and have your colors mixed all together

but trust me my darling

you’re an enlightening endeavor.

heartbreak // 1

I think I’m okay, that I’m getting better. I think I’m on my way to being as happy without you as I was with you. Then, much to my dismay, the cycle starts over again. Something so trivial, like a loud car passing my house triggers the memories of us racing in your car with the music blaring and me laughing at the faces you’d make while driving. Or I see something blue, something that broad, anything blue, and it reminds me of you. Your eyes, they sparkled like glistening diamonds and somehow even managed to brighten up that one time you cried on my shoulder. I had wrapped you in my arms, telling you it will be okay. You told me you were sorry I had to see you that way, but I thought you were beautiful. Your hair was all messed up, you were trembling and I was, too. You left a few moments later but that memory still pops up sometimes. It was the most vulnerable moment you had in our relationship. I wished there were more. Or maybe, the way stranger boys look at me reminds me of how much better your stare was; it was pure. It was true, filled with respect and care. As all of this started to fade, as walls became the barrier stopping us from thriving into the open, I fell apart inside. I saw the end coming, actually, no, I felt it. It tore me apart. I was already in a rough spot, a rough place I’d created myself. I thought I could fix it, that I could fix us. I was wrong. You chose the best decision for you, and maybe for us too, but it’s taken me two months to realize that us ending may have been good for me, too. I’m writing again. The last time I wrote, like this at least, was to you. Sealed with a kiss and signed with an “xoxo” at the bottom, our love letters were so heartwarming to me that I fell in love with you with each word I read on that paper. Our ending wasn’t how I wanted it to be, I never wanted us to end. I still love you, but in a different way. Or maybe, I love you more than I did when you were mine. Maybe, I love you so much that I’m okay with you being with someone new, that I’m not trying to demand answers anymore, that I’m writing. Maybe the love I have for you is stronger now because you won’t take it, so it’s just bottled up inside ready for you to claim. Maybe this love isn’t for you at all; maybe it’s for me, or for someone I don’t even know. Regardless, who my love is for, some of it still belongs to you. Your soul and mine had met before, whether you believe in this or not. Powerful connections can’t be forgotten about, and I won’t forget mine with you. I’ve let go of you for now, but I’ll always have a shoulder for you to cry on, I’ll always be a friend to talk to, I’ll always be that ex that will reach out to you asking you how you’re doing. I still care, and I always will. I won’t forget you. Thank you for accidentally breaking my heart; I love you for it. Thank you for inspiring me. Now, let me get back to thoughts that (hopefully) don’t have to do with only you.

the bad goodbye: a mini series



you were my reason, now i’m making my own.

lovely love

it was love.

you loved him and he loved you

this was your story 

for about ten years through

and then he betrayed you

confessing his love for someone new.


the night before he left you

was all a lie

but you were blindsided

by his fingertips

and the wine

dripping from your lips

covering him 

in an intoxicating love

that would be classified in vain

twenty four hours later.

is to was

it is became it was faster than i’d like to admit.


current lovers

turn into past lovers

when nonexistent lovers

become new lovers.

you helped him grow up

the man you helped grow

the man who you witness fail and succeed

the man who you became a part of

became the man you wished

you’d never seen.

you helped him grow up // pt. 2

you watched in awe

as your boy 

grew into your man

he got to know your soul

as you carefully let him in

and as if your soul mirrored his

he became the one 

you’d been preparing for your whole life

he became your husband as you became his wife

he became your children’s father

then left as if he never was.

oh, you sensitive soul: a mini series

complexity or simplicity? some would prefer the simple type of person, because they’re easier to deal with. they’re not all over the place, they’re not a tornado of torn feelings and ripped heartstrings. then, there’s those daring enough to want to capture the heart of a complex soul, a sensitive, deep, overly analytical soul. tell me this, why would you do that? how would you do that? the answer isn’t simple. we tend to fall in love with what we see or hear. we don’t typically fall in love by first feeling love itself; an interest is what grows into love. interest in the way he talks to you, interest in the way she looks, interest in the way he plays the game, interest in the way she cooks. whatever it is, people don’t automatically fall in love with eachother. it takes time, trust, a couple mistakes, and no, it is not simple.








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