All these weeks of not admitting.

My weekend is spent trying to decipher the reasons behind all this pretending.

I latch on to a conjured up ideal only because I tell myself I deserve this to fulfill my emptiness. There is so much pretending, so much delusion, I don't even know how to be true to myself anymore.

I am open and delirious for a few days, then cold and avoiding the next. In both states I am untrue to myself. What am I.
An entity of nothingness. A hollow vessel.

A few days ago I met two strangers on two different occasions. Both times I found that I had something in me that was possible to permanently adopt.

I don't need to be selfish, arrogant, sullen or angsty. I don't need to try so hard to be charismatic, or despair over my lack of it. What I discovered was that I have the ability to be kind through and through. A smile is all it takes to reel a stranger in and change their life.

As much as I can, I am going to look for the good in everyone. No matter how much they act like they  probably don't deserve it, I am going to strive to look for the good in them. Everyone has a parcel of good in them. I will sieve it out and focus on it so that it it is the only thing of them that I will recall, and I will bear no grudges.

It is going to be hard, but I can do this.

What do you fall for?

What do you truly adore?

The razor sharp cheekbones, the pouted lips?

The elongated legs, the curved hips?

Or maybe something way more precious-

her enigma that made you curious?

Or her soul sculpted from words

of broken, hardened absurds.

Something out of the ordinary

that caught your eye.

Making you never wanting to say goodbye.

could it be the way she stares into the distance?

The way she tilts her head-“hear me”- she listens

It is as if all the words she’s ever said

engulfs you in a blanket of never-had.

Every inch of her you’d drown yourself in

Every part of her nearly free of sin.

As you struggle to untangle

all the hate that’s trapped in her wounds

so afraid she will dismantle

from the height of her imagined doom.

She doesn't even realize

that every part of her,

although mesmerizingly small in size

conjures up something; makes your heart pound, heart stir.

Maybe as you watched, watched her dancing fingers

you felt the sense of something tender, it lingers

on the air of everything she touches.

She- afraid of the smudging patches

You- awed by the way your own heart latches

Every single glimpse you steal

makes you wonder if she truly is for real

Could you really have found

someone so profound?

So delicate.

So intricate.

That makes your world go round?

Yet she doesn't even know it

You don't know if she'd see you fit

She could look at you

and sadly, this might be true-

She could think a thousand different thoughts

all the ones about you, maybe naught. 

There may be a time you will have to part

and that, I'm sorry, it will break your heart

But what will never make you forget

Is how you had had your heart set.

Because you fell

for the girl

who had so much more to tell.