My Love, The Moon

If I get a child, I would teach them how to love the moon,

As the moon loves her children

As the moon loves her guardians, the stars

If I get a child, I would teach them how to shine as the moon does,

Not as bright as the Sun but as important.

Not as dim as the stars but just as special.

If I get a child, I would teach them how to be a selenophile

Loving the moon with all their heart,

Loving the moon as I love Her.


If my child would ever have a rough day,

Because the kids at school are being bullies,

Or because the teachers were too unforgiving,

Or because the sun was just beating down on them too much,

I would tell them to wait until the night has come.

I would tell them not to wish on a falling star but rather the moon.

Wish to the moon all your love, and share it with her.

For as she reflects the sun’s ray,

She will reflect you love’s waves

And project upon the world that is too cruel to go unnoticed.


If my child would think of themselves alone,

I would tell them to wait until night has come.

I would tell them to once again look up at the moon,

For someone out there is reflecting their love upon her,

And when you feel the love radiating from her,

My child, you will never feel alone.


If my child were to get married one day,

And she decides to have her love pronounced by the moon.

I would tell her to go ahead, have your wedding at night.

For the moon, will walk her down the aisle with me,

Her shine will be intoxicating,

Her glow astounding,

As she was and always will be


If my child were to see me on my death bed,

I would want to her to know that she, the moon, is here with me.

Ready to make me a star.

And that she would never fret,

For the moon will always guide her way through the darkest of nights,

As she has always for me



You would think that Love would make you happy all the time.

Love would shower you with faith, trust and pixie dust and help you fly up


Up into the sky.

You would think Love is all fun and games.

You would think Love is someone so totally expected when in truth…

Love is not.

Love is not expected at all.

Love is not that person with a charming aura and fancy cars.

Love is that person with a not so prominent aura there at the backseat of your car on a road trip with friends and friends’ friends.

Love is not fun, it could be. But not all the time.

Love is a game of truth or dare.

Because you always have to say the truth to Love and make yourself a dare for Love

Love is not tinkerbell.

Nor is Love Peter Pan.

Love is the Stars; you don’t see them but you know they are there.

You trust them not to fall on you.

And stardust, as we all know, doesn’t make you fly.


However, Love is real.

And reality is better than Neverland

In Neverland, nothing grows.

Not the people, Not the Trees, Not the Mountains, Not the sea.

In reality, everything grows.

The trees, The ocean, The People,

Even Love itself, grows.

Love grows more and more in love with you each day.


Yes, Love makes mistakes,

Yes, Love is unstable,

Yes, You may be hurt by Love and You will hurt Love back.


Love wont leave. Love won’t give up.

And You won’t give up too.


Love is worth it.

Make sure Love knows that.

Because sometimes Love forgets its meaning.

So it is our job to make sure Love knows.

Love knows that it is worth it.

Love is worth anything.

Worth going to jail,

Worth sneaking around,

Worth all the pain

Worth all the waiting

Love is worth it.




To My Best Friend in High School

I understand why you had to go.
We were toxic to one another already.
We couldnt stand each other,
We were just breaking each other.
But what i dont understand is why you thought i was drama.
Why am i drama?
Because i am a burden?
Do you know how many times a day im reminded by how much of a burden i am?
The sirens of my mind have already done that.
But you.
You tried to silence them once before.
Telling me im not a burden, that i never will be.
Then when you said you didnt need drama in your life so we called it quits is just pure bullshit.
Tell me.
What made you change your mind?
My neediness?
My sensitivity?
My clinginess?
My absolute longing for someone to reassure me that there are still good things in the world?
My constant deppressive and anxiety attacks?
Tell me.
Is it the latter?
Because i will not fucking say sorry for having attacks.
I will not say sorry for what i have and what i have to deal with.
I will not say sorry for my demons and how much they inconvienced you.

You never loved me.
Im sure of that now.
You never loved me.
Dont you dare say that you did.
Because you’ll be bulshitting yourself and me.
Not that you care about me.

Dont use the “i changed” card too.
Fuck you i changed and i still love you.
Yes. Until now.
Until now even if i am cursing you.
I still love you.
And you left me broken.
While you go frolick with the friends you used to tell me were plastic.
“I remember that it hurt. Looking at her hurt”
Never did i even think that this line from my favorite movie would be about you.

I hate the fact i expect to be always left behind,

to be the one always forgotten,

given up on.

I hate the fact that I make you feel like the villain in this story.

Start over

Lets start over.

Have a new slate,

wiped clean of any blood and tears.

Let me get to know you

as if we are strangers once more.

Let me get to know you

through baby’s eyes.

Let me get to know you


Let me get to know you.


Lets start over.

Start over.



I’m tired of thinking about you.

I’m tired of the constant memory of you

And how you used to be the only one to save me.

I’m tired of how part of the reason why the voices say what they say

Is because of you.

I fucking need to get my head together.

I need to be better for her.

Yet the memory of you makes the voices go

Tick tock

Tick tock

There’s the clock.

She’ll leave you too.

Better yet

Do the dance

Between death and you.

See what you’ve done to me?

You’ve turned me into a self-destructive time bomb.

I’m tired of the hurtful memories.

I’m tired of –

I’m tired.



I’m tired of feeling the isolation.

I’m tired of thinking you guys don’t want me to go with you.

I know that you don’t mean to.

I know you guys don’t mean to isolate me.

Or maybe I’m just overthinking?

I do that all the time.

I overthink as if I’m the one who is making the device that will either

End or start the war.

I’m tired of feeling alone when I’m with you guys.

I’m tired of feeling like I’m annoying.




Just fucking Honestly?

I’m so tired.

I’m so so tired.

Let me sleep,

For days in your arm my darling.

Let me sleep and listen to your wonderful heart beat.

Let me fall asleep to your singing,

Let me fall asleep with the thought that atleast someone loves me.

For I love you.