MelodieRox

Am I a lost cause? Am I incapable of love? Am I hopeless? Am I even really here? What is my purpose? I want love I want to love the one who loves me I want to overlook the flaws That I see. I want today to be More important than the past. I want to look forward, not back I want to see meaning when I look In the mirror. There is a deep screaming cry inside Resolute, desperate, sure That says, I want to know my worth. I want to know my worth And nothing matters So much as this.

I'd hoped you'd be the kind of soul with whom I could compare notes the kind who'd never stand me up when invited to tea. But if I came to your door, two or three years hence, would you even recognize me? Because now I am warm and I'm real I'm full of life I don't look the same; the other day an old man saw me and thought I was a boy and I grinned like the fool that I am always and forever It was you who taught me to rhyme "green" with "unnamed" and "untamed" with "desolate". I live in the bookshelves, dusty, rainy nights I fall asleep floating among the stars. I am still so young and unbroken but I'm no good at letting go. Yet, if y

I've been there, I know I draw better than you do such beautiful eyes.

You had a chip on your shoulder from day one. But you were never empty: you were warm, full and vibrant. You held out your hand to me. I was little and lost, and you knew the way. I was a dreamer, a drifter, and we were both so full of life. I set the nearby tents on fire. They reduced to a pile of ashes on the ground, but I rose with the flames. I lightened with the smoke, and I became a sunflower stretching up into the sky. All my memories were left back down on the ground; I always soar too quickly and forget what I've left behind until it comes back to bite me. You came back to bite me, a leftover sting too quickly forgotten and I

There you were, complete and fully formed. You were scraping out a place for yourself on the inside of my skull. You were beautiful and cutting and still you are. What did I give up on? My dreams? A kindred soul, perhaps? Or the way your eyes shifted skyward as you smiled crookedly star-cast and brilliant. Did I give up on poetic ramblings, blue and defeated? Did I give up on fame and fortune, all that I lived for? Is this sinking feeling merely the result of dark music and stale vision? You were strong and true. Still you are, despite your inability to formulate a cohesive, witty and philosophical comment on Twitter. I named my angels

so many colours so much pure, overwhelming innocent beauty

Worry not, for you are held in open arms as the sky falls into you. Stare out of the blackness and see the light always shining for you (only you) for your beaded hair and hipster glasses for your camera bag your pinstripes and moccasins. You are the green and the gold you are my sunrise and my candle They say that depth is a clouded lake ethereal, untouched but you are so close so present, so real absolute I could reach out and touch infinity on the horizon, I could whisper and you'd hear when I say I like everything, everything about you that every ladybug goddess and every leafy green sprite has been humming about you that every s

A castle in the sky- that's where I was when I looked down from your window. And I could've learned to dance with you it seemed easy; you were my flowers and love songs you were my raindrops on roses and I was so high And all those old songs that you mourn over, they're mine now to miss, and so are the freckles on the bridge of your nose. And they say I can trust you sitting behind me not to stab me in the back but that's not what I fear not at all. What I fear is that I'll keep wanting and wishing and that the pain will not subside and that I'll become like you- numb, broken and incomplete. Those beautiful dreams that were mine, not o

Still you reply, confident and well-versed in quelling fears, "Forever and forever, as long as life and creation and conscience persist, I will be here." And I believe you because I can.

I don't want to know or believe, not when he split me into twelve pieces; one for you, one for himself, one for idealism, one for romanticism, one for love, one for loss, one for hope, one for stabbing pain. Two for being impulsive, two for being sensitive, and none for me.