Little Bird Poetry

Perfection is a lie Sold to us By people on the TV And a world With an idea Of what it wants However Perfect is just a word Sitting on paper In a dusty old book No one has read in years It does not exist Not in any man Woman  Or child Never has and never will I believe that something That is truly worth something Is never "Perfect" It has to be a little Rough Cracked  Worn Something that is "perfect" Is fake An illusion A bitter lie Laced with sugar and arsenic As it will be the death of us Deep scars Messy hair Crooked teeth Broken hearts They tell the best stories And are perfectly imperfect These are the people Who Even with so many flaws Make life  Worth Living

Dappled softly  Like sunshine Dancing across  Fallen forest leaves Like droplets of rain Wildly strewn Across the side walk It's almost as if The universe  Allowed its children To paint on your canvas Randomly  Yet lovingly Or The sky Decided some of it's stars Would look better burning Shining from your shoulders You see it  As ugly Hide it beneath cotton And shame But how could you Be so unaware Of the gift You were given

Blurs of motion flowing by cracked windows Cold highway air filling my lungs A heavy weight nestled on my chest Music reverberating through my body Shaking me awake 2:00 AM flashing in blue Hands gripped so hard my knuckles are white Teeth digging into each other As a sigh slips out between Another stolen night Filled with teenage dreams And crippling anxiety The only relief I feel  Is when my night ends with you Making it all worth my time

Red lipstick stains Lavender perfume The scent of burned out cigarettes And crumpled dollar bills A mirror smeared in dirt Rumpled sheets In a pile on the floor Two familiar strangers Looking into empty faces Knowing what the other is called But very little more Is this was love has become Just a messed up game Both sides being both a pawn And a king Neither ever winning Is this what love has become Photo sent READ 2:37 AM "Are you up?" "Its just one time." "Yeah but we were on break!" Is this what love has become Another shallow pool of a meaningless phrase Something to throw around Trying to get someone to stay But not being fully prepared When they actually do Is this what love has become Because if it is, I hope I am never "loved"

Fingers are charred The smell of fire engrained into my nose I am a flame But you A wild fire Destroying everything in your path  Even me

Every morning the clock restarts The day begins again Always never ceasing To bring me identical moments Like running a wheel I shake the orange tube To take my artificial joy I wash my face To try to scrub away the past Dark circles under my eyes Are a pit my soul hides in Only to come out in moments of true emotions Lately its harder I feel it The nothing Empty It consumes me and leaves my soul aching Taking a beating From an invisible enemy Chemicals flowing  But with nothing to show She's gone He's gone I feel alone in an island of people I wish I could shake myself and scream But the words don't come out I've not been ok In three long years And every day I struggle to pick up my pieces  Not knowing the bag I put them in Has a hole in the bottom

Its been a long time Since it was just 'me' Not 'us' I am fire Twisting heat dancing through brush Wildly tangling myself in tree and grass Until there was you Ice Cold and unforgiving Yet never wanting away from me You wanted to be part of me Control Every time you drew too close I'd start to shrink Smaller and smaller into your cold As you too began to destroy yourself in order to put me out When I drew away I became more wild You more frigid Never finding happy medium Always at odds with the other Too afraid to be apart As the other would grow to dangerous Too afraid to be together And mix into steam Either I was to be me Or entirely wrapped up in you Now you're gone And here I am Burning through it all With no desire to be an us Just a mad insatiable desire To destroy And rebuild