Free Verse · Free verse Poetry · love poem · mental health · Poetry · prose · ramblings · sadness · words · Writing

Poets are Liars

Don’t believe everything we say, we’re poets and we lie often. We put together flowery words intricately woven together to hold just enough depth and emotion to make your hair stand on ends, just enough to make your eyes gloss over with tears that had been locked away.
We’ll tell you all kinds of things.
We’ll tell you
How some people are broken puzzles, crossing the earth to find missing pieces; pieces that will resonate with yours, making you believe it was you they had been searching for all along.
We’ll tell you
How there is beauty in pain, that scars heal and fix, that if you break, someone will be there to mend you and put you back together so beautifully you’ll wonder if you ever were really broken in the first place.
We’ll tell you
How love is nourishing and beautiful, that once it makes a home within you, you’ll never want it to leave. We’ll make you believe as if the colors will change and somehow the stars will shine even brighter than before.

Not surprisingly you’ll believe them all.

And one day
when your heart is breaking and you feel pain so raw it’ll gnaw at your skin,
you’ll realize
that the hurt you feel is vicious and ugly, you could dig a grave and still not find any beauty in it.
You’ll realize
that sometimes scars don’t really heal. That sometimes they stay as blurry lines across your skin and no remedy can mend the skin that was once broken so unapologetically.
You’ll realize
that the emptiness you feel is from the holes within you that could never be filled because you have lost things irreplaceable.
You’ll realize
that the colours don’t really change, the smog covered sky doesn’t part for the stars and the lights you see shining brighter are just street lights at a distance.
You’ll realize
that people don’t always stay when they see what a mess you are, sometimes the glue dries before you’re mended and pieces lost stay lost forever.
You’ll realize
that not all endings are supposed to be happy.

When all that dawns upon you
you’ll kick and curse yourself,
you’ll  wonder how you could have been so naive to sit in a dimmed coffee shop with pages of poetry strewn across
and believe every damned lie that was sprawled on them.

Originally posted on my Instagram

Love · prose · quote · ramblings · self love · Uncategorized · Writing

Appreciate Yourself

You don’t have to be soft and fragile and sweet, you can be hard and edgy and bitter. I know your eye lashes aren’t long enough and your eyes don’t exactly hhsparkle. Your skin flakes and your lips get chapped; you’re all kinds of flaws bundled into a package. You laugh loud and sit awkwardly and put flowers in your hair to make yourself feel pretty. You ask yourself questions you can’t answer, you lie to yourself too. You break hearts including your own again and again. You cry ugly then wipe your own tears.
So what if your eyes don’t hold stars and your smile is kinda wonky? So what if you don’t talk a lot and have a few friends? So what if you’re a hopeless romantic and he doesn’t want you? You’re bitten nails and messy hair and an unhealthy addiction to chocolate. There’s no other way to be you. You’re fucking art, and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.


Originally posted on instagram:

Free Verse · Free verse Poetry · Love · Poetry · prose · ramblings · sadness

I was okay being alone

I was okay being alone, till I was the only one alone.

I had enough people around me.
Someone to ask how I’d been lately,
because they’d been too busy to make time to see me.
Someone to ask me if I had attended class,
So they could borrow notes they’d missed,
while spending time with someone else.
Someone to ask for my opinion on presents,
because they needed ideas,
for a birthday gift
I wouldn’t get.

I was not alone.
I was more than it.

Best friend told
not to wait for the walk home from school
because she’ll be walking home with the boy
she tried to attain all month,
and eventually succeeded.

Other best friend cut conversations short,
because it was time for boyfriend to come home from work,
so she could spend the next endless hours talking to him.

Meet up plan cancelled with another,
because “just a friend” was turning 18,
and a pre birthday celebration was due.

Just a series of
Empty desks,
Changed lab partners,
Forlorn walks home,
Lost conversations;
Shifting priorities.

Lonely nights,
charged with caffeine,
the diary
held so dear
no longer fulfilling
the need for a listening ear,
the pillow
no longer making up
for desired physical affection.

Not quite understanding what it meant
to have someone fall for you,
to sweep you off your feet
then catch you too.

Wondering if it all really was worth,
losing friends over.

Wondering if I’d ever know.

I was okay being alone, till I was the only one alone.