Don't even know why I did this.

I'm insecure about a lot of things, as I'm sure we all are. 

But if I told then all to you, it'd take too long. 

Maybe on another post. 

My head hurts now.

Bye.

Death

"A pale white face 

And deep set eyes

Your lips glued shut 

And hands by your thighs.

Your expression is painted 

Like a Victorian doll

Red lips, flushed cheeks

No expression at all.

You're dressed delicately

With flowers in your hair 

Your features absent of pain 

Sorrow and despair

The smell of rose lingers 

Mixed with decay

How beautiful you look

Now your life's slipped away."

Anonymous.

This poem is the poem I found when my best friends mom died

And I went to look in the casket, praying for it to be empty.

But it wasn't.

I sat in the corner and cried.

That part was worse than the service. 

Idk

Wrap me up in flowers
Strap me to a tank,
There is no peace in love or war
So please just let me sink. 

Loves of My Life

I love the sun.

I love seeing the tulips blooming in my yard.

I love to sweat while I pull weeds in the backyard.

Nobody likes to pull weeds. 

I love shutting out the loud voices of people

in the halls with my headphones and music.

I love getting more freckles on my face

even though I tell everyone that I hate them.

I secretly like them because they make me feel pretty.

And that's OK, right?

I love the boys who ask girls to dances

because they put themselves out there for the ones they like. 

Or even asking a girl because they know she's never been

and she really needs it. Those are my favorite boys. 

The nice boys.

I love my kitty cats because they love me no matter what. 

My sister and I plan on having 10 cats when we're older.

We'd pick cats over men any day. 

That was irrelevant

 but I felt like this post needed some humor. 

Even though half of you thought that wasn't even funny. 

Oh, well.

I love feeling the summer breeze on my face,

watching it whip my hair around.

I love to change things about my appearance. 

It makes me feel like a new person 

but my personality still remains.

I love warm blankets during the winter

because they remind me of the summertime.

I love watermelon.

As long as it's the seedless kind.

I don't like to spit out the black seeds.

I once ate 17 pieces of watermelon in Arizona

and I got a horrible stomachache afterwards.

Somehow, I still love it. 

I love the way he loves me. 

No need to elaborate.

I love the boy who played Peter Pan. 

I always wished I could be Wendy. 

Maybe I can shoot the Wendy Bird down..

I love music from movies.

Especially the ones with an orchestra. 

How to Train Your Dragon has the best soundtrack.

I love my little sister and how close we've become.

I might even get a tattoo of her birthday in Roman Numerals

when I turn 18. 

Maybe then my mom won't be so mad.

These are the loves of my life.

Fears of the Unknown

My fears are the following:

The monsters under my bed. Unlike Rihanna, the monsters and I are not friends.

Spiders. Whether you consider it an irrational or rational fear,

most of you will scream like the little girls you are when you find it to be hanging out in the bathroom stall with you.

The Future and what it holds for me. Will I get good grades like my older siblings and have the career I want?

Will I disappoint my professors, my friends, my parents?

My Parents. . The things they hold over my head, 

threatening to drop the blade on the guillotine at any second. 

The love they try to show me, 

the same love that I can see through so easily.

But fears can be conquered. 

And one day, I will conquer this particular fear, and I hope that my parents will do the same.

I hope that they can conquer the fear of losing their daughter. 

Just because she isn't Mormon.

I have a lot of fears, more than I can count.

If I tried naming them all, you'd be reading for hours. 

I'll spare your time. 

Peace.

"May I?" -Remy Raine

“I like your hair; 
May I play with it?
I like your eyes; 
May I penetrate them 
with mine?
I like your nose; 
May I nuzzle it?
I like your ears
; May I nibble them?
I like your lips; 
May I bite them,
gently?
I like your neck
; May I give it some
love bites?
I like your back
; May I leave a trail 
of kisses?
I like your arms
; May I squeeze each one
into a hug?
I like your hands; 
May I pull them to the
side of my face?
I like your chest
; May I rest my head 
on it?
I like your tummy; 
May I tickle it?
I like your legs; 
May I wrap mine 
around yours?
I like your feet
; May I use mine 
to play with them?
I like your heart; 
May I be in it?
I hope you like mine; 
You’re stuck in it”



I apologize, but I really enjoy Remy's poetry. It's another Tumblr thing.
I hope you'll understand, Nelson.

"When I Said Fragile" -Remy Raine

“Someday you’ll understand 
what I meant when I said that word


What I meant when I rested the palm 
of my hand on your chest and said, ‘Fragile’ 


What I wanted you to feel 
when I started to trace your eyebrows
with my fingers and said, ‘I like this’


What I wanted you to believe 
when I proceeded to trace the lining 
of your eyes and repeated, ‘I like this’

And how I continued with your 
nose and your lips, ‘I like this, I like this’

And how I gently passed your neck, ‘I like this’ 

And how my fingers stopped when they 
brushed your left chest again, ‘Fragile’

Someday you’ll understand 
what I had in mind when I said that word 


What burning desire I had for you to know
that I wouldn’t break your heart
like the others did in your past 


That I would never make empty promises


That you could trust me when I say 
the words, ‘I love you’


That I would take care of that delicate heart of yours

Someday you’ll understand 
how I felt when I said that word

How I was crying inside when I spoke it
 
How I felt the pain that you were denying
How I was determined to prove you wrong

How I would go through day and night for you

Someday you’ll understand 
my intention when I said that word


Why I said it even though I was more 
broken than you would ever be


Why I wasn’t willing to let you pay
for his and his mistakes 


Why I ignored my own pain 
and cried for you instead

 Someday you’ll understand
what I wanted when I said that word

What I wanted you to realize 
when I touched you there

To realize that I was ready to bleed for you

To bleed from the cuts on my fingers 
as I pick up the fragments of your heart
and make it whole again

Someday you’ll understand
why I left my hand there and said, ‘Fragile’


Why I didn’t want you to make love to me


That all I wanted from you 
was to let me love you


Even when I secretly wished that
you would fight for me too ”