Another poem book because I have learned how to write not as shitty poems

Against all, I remember her

I remember her lips, dipped in blues and reds

Of the most beautiful of kind.

They shone so bright, like the stars I once longed to find

in a sky where so much light- too much light- tainted the night

and all it had to offer.

But there she was:

Tendrils of darkness rolling off her

So she was the brightest star

who could never touch the sky

And it could never touch her

I remember her skin:

So pale, so fragile

We never knew know how strong we are until we try to break

Till we try to be nothing but watery paper, wasting away in a grave

Yet just the right amount of anything

and your breath is taken away

She knew that, and so did I, which is why I could never sleep when I couldn't touch her, see her

When her paper was littered with marks of pen 

I remember her eyes:

Those wretched things

Always tore me apart, no need to speak

So dark, deep like an ocean

But I know right away when I hit my mark

The waves never crashed, they never snapped

Just clawed back to their brothers and sisters for another day of torture

So brutal, this game you play, girl

But I can't help myself from repeating it

I remember my heart

My shaking limbs

I remember the fear-

The agony.

I remember my hands

The gripping of silver.

I remember their voices

Cutting right through me.

I remember my eyes

The ones of monsters.

I remember the glass

So sharp and pleading.

I remember the screams

They always found me.

I remember the water

That only tried to bring serenity.

I will not be that for him.

I will not see that again.

I will not pass on my bucket of sadness throughout the world

Not to ring in his friends pity,

as they rub his back after I finished my wrath

Even when I warned you—a courtesy she never gave me—I warned you to stay away

Her pain made my pain and so must I make yours

So expertly?

So cleanly?

So uniquely?

So pretty.

My tiny, delicate hands, can craft you a nightmare

The way she crafted mine for years to come

It seems like I write two hundred poems in my notes and then I come back to wattpad and see I haven't updated my story in three months and then post like three chapters and then just like forget all over again