Gentle, elegant, graceful.
Long, soft brown mane, fluttered by the breath of nature.
Milky skin brighter than pearls.
A white carnation peeking out on top of her left ear.

Long, ivory dress she wears.
Gliding lightly on a garden of flowers.
Soft, pink tints creep up her cheeks.
And an earnest smile escapes her lips.

She's a princess all princes want to make a queen of.
She's everyone's dreams come true.
She's a definition of beauty.

Everyone takes a pleasure from just a glimpse of her presence.
Everyone wants to be her, or to be hers.
Everyone starts to feel jealous.
Every time she walks past, every man drools.

She takes my hand,
People turn their heads towards me,
And they snicker.

I take a look at myself.
Short, messy red hair.
Tanned olive skin.
Even nature refuses to enhance my description.

Spectacles framing my face.
Boyish shirt and pants.
Honest, strong, reckless.
Even if we run on the same garden of flowers, we are not the same.

People look at me like I'm her handmaiden.
That elegant girl is my best friend.
My boyish self is her best friend.
But still, people look at me like I'm her handmaiden.

Even if we have the same abilities, we are not the same.

We are both grown women, but we are not the same.

Because she's the universal definition of beauty,
and I'm just me.

Labels: beautiful, beauty, feminism, friendship, people, poem, poetry, princess, sadness, womanhood

Those drips of burning alcohol,
I took it without hesitation.
Five, six, seven, then I lost count.
My system digests it too well.
I wanted to get drunk.
So it might just be easier for me to dream of you again.

I didn't.

I was vast asleep, only briefly.
No dreams.
No you.
I wanted to see you.
But I woke up in this ungodly hour,
As my playlist was finished.
No dreams.
No you.

I wanted to cry, but I couldn't.
But I can only hurt.
It's fucking 4:44 am.
No dreams.
No you.
Just the darkness enveloping myself.
No more alcohol to knock myself out again.
What am I supposed to do to see you again?

I changed positions hesitantly,
Counting endless numbers,
Listening to my lullaby, my ritual to fall asleep,
Yet, I could only see black.
No dreams.
No you.
I wanted to cry, but it wouldn't fall.
I felt like I would take the fall.
Just in case I could probably see you again.
Do I have to jump?
Do I have to hit the concrete pavement to feel your breath on my neck again?

Do you not want to see me again?
Because I'm drunk?
Because I took those shots of Smirnoff?
I did it for you.
I thought it might've been easier for me to fall into my dream.
Are you mad at me for doing so?
Do you not want to see me again?

I'm drunk.
But I couldn't see you, or any dreams at all.
I couldn't even fall back to sleep to save myself.
Why wouldn't you help me?
Do you not want to see me again?
Are you sick of me already?

In the darkness I lied still.
Listening to the lullaby all over again.
With a wish that maybe I could see you tonight.
Just maybe.
So that when I close my eyes, you would be there, reaching out for my hands and smile.
Like you always do.
And in that moment, we are invincible.

Labels: alcohol, broken, depression, dream, heartbreak, heartbroken, love, poem, poetry, sadness

My days are not gloomy,

Labels: happiness, lonely, love, poem, poetry, sadness