Love Undefined ( this piece is meant to be a spoken word)

when you think of love.

what is your first thought?

i bet you its something superficial,

like maybe if i push up my breast then he will notice me.

i bet you its not something positive.

something your willing to share with anyone else.

when you pass me in the hallway,

what do you say? do you comment on my hair or my well planned outfit?


you screamed down the hallway loud enough for everyone to hear DIKE!

but what you don’t know is the reason my outfit is so perfect and my hair is in such a particular way is because i am trying to impress a crush too.

the only difference is mine is a girl

but why should it matter to you

don’t you have the same feelings about him that i have for her?

so why am i so different than you just because i feel love for a girl rather than a boy?

here’s the thing if you look up love in the dictionary it doesn’t say a intense feeling or deep affection for the opposite sex it simply says a intense feeling or deep affection.

i am sorry i don’t fit in your box that i don’t fulfill your fucked up expectations.

but she looks at me the same way he looks at you

i get the same nervous feeling around her that you do him

because i bet you that at night we have the same fucked up dirty dreams and that we touch ourselves the same way at night at the thought of them

so what does it matter whether my crush has a vagina and yours a penis

My little girl. ( Meant to be a spoken word)

I am ok.

I think.

Well i want to believe so.

You see when you became a part of me.

I was overjoyed, i picked your name.

bought you what you needed.

I was so excited 5 months went by so fast.

As i grew closer to you everyday.

your fragile little heart became, Something of borrowed time.

Soon to be stolen from me.

I wish that one of these days, I could sit down and tell you my stories. embrace you and tell you you’re my world.

Although i will never see that day.

I will forever love you, you always be my princess.

So when they ask me.

Are you ok?

my answer is no i am not

but that is fine.

Because you will forever be with me.

Smile ( meant to be a spoken word)





They tell you as they take the picture.

But why you ask to yourself.

Why put that mask on.

Because that’s all it is.

See when a person smiles.

You expect it to be genuine.

But what if we are all playing a game?

the game of pretend.

Smiling to hide the hate and sorrow in our lives?

Because that’s all smiling is.


Smiling is the drug of choice for many.

The one thing that covers the true pain in us.

Smile they say.

As if its an easy task.

All it takes is a little effort on your part.

To stop the feeling of dying inside.

So go ahead take another hit of that oh so sweet drug that Makes you slip into this false front that suddenly everything is going to be ok.

Stop smiling and they know that you are fading.

Fading into nothingness.

You think maybe if i smile everyday.

I can make myself believe that this whole thing is ok.

Do it for your girlfriend who sees you everyday.

Do it for your family to finally prove them wrong.

Do it for your job your students are watching you.



You scream to yourself.

Because maybe if i stop.

I can see the world for what it really is.

Instead of the delusion i view.

So should we smile more ?

or fix the problems that make us use it to get away ?

10 (This piece is meant to be a spoken word)

10 minutes to bed time.

He stares at me as if I had a target painted on my back.

He is a hunter.

9 pm. the clock chimes off.

I let out a small gasp.

I know what will come next.

“Time for bed” he says as he follows me to my room.

8 colors.

Is what I count as I wait for him to disappear.

The blue of his eyes.

The pink of my powerpuff girls nightgown.

The brown of his hair.

The white sheets.

The purple of the blanket.

The red of his cheeks.

The gray of his boxers.

The black as I close my eyes. Wishing that all this is a dream.

7 am. time for school.

As I wake up I roll over to see my dad holding my school clothes. I am happy. To be looking at my dad and not the monster.

6 pm. time to go home.

I turn to my dad big tears in my eyes begging him to let me stay. Him being completely unaware of why.

5 Houses.

we pass 5 houses as we drive down our road. Each one. Filling me with even more terror as we pass it.

4 days.

Is what say as i silently count down the days till i go to my mom’s.

3 fears.

I tell my dad if he asks why I’m afraid to go to bed I say the monster, the dark ,and being alone.

My dad quickly assures me there is nothing to be afraid of. Little does he know what I mean.

2 voices.

Is what I hear that night. My voice and the voice of my monster as he puts me to bed. My voice is drowned out once again only silence is heard from downstairs.

1 word.

PTSD is what is happening to me this day even after 10 years of “freedom” or that’s what I’m told but how can you be free from your demons.

Cheating ( Meant to be a spoken word)

When I say I love you.

My words are not empty.

Although that night they may have felt like it.

When you searched that history,saw every picture, those words were a dagger to your heart.

My mouth a loaded gun firing every mistake that has happened, that night my words were like oil to fire they were as explosive as ever.

When I said I love you that was the last thing you wanted to hear it was too far from the truth in your eyes.

When I said I love you you thought how is that possible , how is it that you love me so much yet you hurt me in the cruelest way.

Love isn’t a hide and seek game, love is an open book allowing even the roughest pages to be showing. I didn’t do that I made it seem like my words were like honey dripping off of my lips rather that vinegar spewing out.