discarded notes: 12

know my name
though i go by many
know it anyway
for it’s the only way
i know you see me
and see that beyond
the masks i wear
to protect my heart,
only you know
what lies inside
wishing it’ll remain unhurt
until the game we play
finally runs its course
and i’ll be left with nothing
but bitter remorse

discarded notes: 7

let them talk. let them bicker.
let them think they know what your life is like
behind closed doors. let them snicker.

for only you know what’s good for you… and who.
only you know why you want only him
and not someone else they *think* is better
suited for you. for at the end of the day, boo,
you gotta do you.

discarded notes: 2

to write my poems
means going on a journey
that’s mine and mine alone
even if it’s just for that moment
when i put pen to paper,
my feelings raw
and my heart cut open
only because it’s easier
to bleed on the page
than it is to say the words
i really want to say
to you.

discarded notes: 1

you have made the secret stirrings inside me come alive,
my body humming with a vibration that yearns
to match yours and yours alone.

a sound, a feeling, a craving that bears your name,
even the rhythm of your heartbeat
to match my own.