Scarlet Amour

Once there was a white girl.
acne Fair skin, braces straight teeth. had cancer Thick hair, has no self esteem slender. flawed in every way Flawless without comparison.
She woke up, and doesn't believe in God said her daily prayers. she was hardly Human.

She went to Starkbucks.
 to nostalgically drown. to feel any kind of warmth glide down her throat to the inside her body where she could relive the warmth she used to have.
to pretend to fall in love again.
to fill that void deep in her heart mind.
 She drowned out those memories of those boys she never kissed
that made her bleed to redirect the pain into her beautiful mind. She dated the tool shed and never had her fist kiss kissed her way through high school.
She fell in love or so she thought.

She danced but her legs decided to give out because her heart wasn't was in the movement.
she could barely move. all she could feel was the numbness of her bones that break with the touch of the knife that was thrown so deep into her back heart. she hurt. but she had to smile.
She was perfect imperfect.

her entire world was sunshine inside of a computer screen that she forgot what life looked like inside of a mirror. The world took over her thoughts like how that boy took over her soul and her mind that she forgot to think for herself.

so you may ask who is this girl? she doesn't even know herself.

Im different.

2 chains? 3 chains? doesn't make a difference.
 This world is a joke. and life is a joke. so put your hair down and get drunk..
drunk in love. drunk in your dreams. drunk in your kiss. drunk in this world. drunk in your arms and in your chest. 

 drunk enough to lay there with you. Unconsciously humming the tune of the duet in our hearts flowing with alcohol. That runs through our bloodstreams and into every one of our veins and where in your very eyes, I swear I see stars.
 Drunk enough to scream our favorite raps songs from the rooftops so we don't start the fight we know we'll lose because we fight. We're all fighting.
We fight for that front row of life. We want those "free tickets" you win on those radio stations no one seems to listen to anymore. but the hesitation and the doubt seem to get to our heads before the phone.
and the process of creating our own music comes to a halt.
We went to make something unique and of our own,  but we're all liars and cheaters just trying to make our pennys worth throughout the day.
we steal in the process of putting on a show for those judgmental strangers in the world to clap to.
"middle finger up to my competition" became so real.

Take me to Paris.
Travel with me to a place of unceasing love and romance.
Give me your simple words in a language only we could understand. 

Take me on a tour through the garden of your hiding places & show me what it's like to fall in love again.

Show me your look outs.
Tell me what I am in your eyes. 

Give me the light in your heart & show me the safety in your touch.

Shower me with a love so thick no soap could wash us off. 

Whisper the words that captured my heart in place with no remembrance of pain and heartbreak.

Take me back to heaven where you & I belong.

Hike with me to the top of the world. Where one day we can create worlds of our own.

Hold me tight and never let go, so we can fall & fall asleep.

Create a life through a journey in your mind where all we do is dream. 

So lets dream. 

Rules to writing a missionary.

1. keep it short

2. don't get too deep

3. don't talk about your life

4. keep it clean

5. restrain from pouring out your heart

6. don't swear

7. don't talk about your problems

8. don't send pictures
9. don't make him miss you
10. don't make him upset

11. don't fall in love with him again because he's not here
12. don't tell him you're sorry and that you made a mistake
13. don't tell him you don't know if you believe in a God anymore
14. don't write him back

15. Don't write a missionary

The Intellilectual are a species of humans beyond this world with hearts that go no farther than the ribcage.

They're stuck. with desk in a classroom where they exercise the only organ in their body they know how to use. 

We've been taught to base our futures off a series of numbers and AP Classes. But news flash, the world goes beyond a textbook.

As a youth they took away our crayons full of color and were replaced with gray #2 pencils to be exactly like the other kid. They told us to dress a certain way. To learn the same information. To earn to same letter grade. To color in the lines. For what? 

Knowledge is outside of yourself. It's travel. It's loving people and creating your self into something beautiful to write about.

So don't tell me that bookwork is the only way to create a future. and don't you dare tell me that my life is determined by a number on a 4 hour test or that my skirt is too short, 

because it's not. 

Create yourself.

Leave the Chemicals and Equations to the non-religious and the 35's and get the hell out of High School.

After graduation everything is erased and you're left with a blank sheet of paper. So pull out your crayons and create your life. Be yourself. because no one will ever care enough to look at anyone's paper besides their own.