I tried.

you're a constellation all your own

and i dream of carving mountains under my skin

just so you'd know how high i'd climb

just to touch your stars

but the pain stops me from trying.

The power of listening.

You've seen her. 

Perhaps you've never acknowledged her existence and perhaps you never even knew her name. But she's there and she's always been there. She's not "beautiful", or "sexy" or "perfect" in any way. She dances at the corner of your eye and she was always standing in the background of photographs. Never in front, never taking the limelight away from others. Her family oppresses her and she didn't have a multitude of friends and she never went to any parties (nor was she invited to any). Some people told her that she wasn't enough and that she would never be enough and some people avoided her and some people, some people kept bringing her down. 

You've seen her.

But you haven't seen her.

You haven't seen the way her eyes light up and dance at the mention of literature. You haven't seen the way her pen skids across paper, curvaceous, tempting onyx ink seeping through the white. You haven't seen the way words seem to burst from her fingertips and the way they dance and open doorways into worlds never ventured before. You haven't seen her talk about her dreams and ambitions, her face settling in determination at the thought of proving everyone wrong. You haven't seen her face soften, eyes glowing with passion at the thought of her loved one. You haven't seen the way she's planning her future with those she loves and the freedom from all the oppression she battles everyday.

And that one thing, that one single thought kept her alive..She loved him and soon enough he will grow to love her because she loved him and will continue to love him for as long as she lived. She knew that this was a fact and that it was true. She knew that no one but her few friends would ever understand.

You've seen her.

And soon enough, you will hear her.

Because sometimes just seeing things, isn't always enough.

dedicated to juniper <3

and you will never.

she loves the silence

the way it hangs heavy like oceans of expectations

drowning her in their multitudes of 

"you are never good enough

you will never be good enough"

each breath taken is like drawing knives across porcelain

and each underlying bruise is like crushing blossoming flowers 

"i am never good enough

i will never be good enough"

Silliness.

she laughs in my mind

and she won't stop laughing

it's funny, my feelings, it's funny.

i loved you

i loved you

it's funny isn't it?

i love you

and how do you know when you're losing yourself?

Dried roses.

You  s i n g  to me in oceans

and i press your blossom into my crevices

temptress you are, lips moving to tides,

washing away my sorrow, my regrets

my pride.