I wish I could stop
My hands from stalking
your page
from refreshing just to see your name

an expert in
pushing people away

My tongue is best tied up
instead of exercised

it's exorcism is backwards
demons it will spew
right into your insides

the things i say
aren't like the things i do

But my conscience blurs
all those lines when I'm with you

Who is this new host
of parasitic infection?

Making overly
sexualized suggestions

Who gave her the key and locked me out?


I wish I could stop
My hands from stalking
your page
from refreshing just to see your name

I went back to all the hate mail
I went back and retraced all my scars
I went back and followed you to the start

Of all the none believing
In your heart

You don't believe in
yourself
your face
your hair
your smile

You used to smile at me
and say things like
I wish I could make the pain go away

From his hands
His knuckles
His teeth

Everything he ever used to beat
you, break you, eat you
alive

I always thought he was broken
But I never thought he'd cut  you with
all the shards

I keep having dreams where you're
standing now

But you've been pushed down so low
That theres no getting out

I'm sorry I chose Mary Jane
I'm sorry I chose to Escape
I'm sorry I chose to Look away

But I'm not going back there
No way

I liked to think
I chose to leave
and You chose to stay

But I know you just
chose him
instead of liberty

The course of two years
didn't come cheap

We spilt blood and money
Because living isn't free

Neither is dying
you said to me

So we hang onto our bittersweet
memories

Singing Paramore
into an empty sea

Bring more bottles home to me
at least I can press my lips to them
and remember
how you kissed me

Your alcoholism is killing you
My dreams go with you
into our placid sea

may the sweet lord
recognize you

your body
has been the cost of living

two years
didn't come cheap

I don't get it
I'm not like this
I don't do things like these

I've burnt to many bridges
But with you I've grown wings
What connections do I need?

When there isn't any soil beneath my feet?

your voice used to sing me to sleep
@ night
not no more
you grew up and left me
got big with
the boys and kohl liner

you used to sing
like a whore in church
but i guess this new music
is the  only sound you got left

and its vibrating in your chest
(undress address)
your voice used to sing me to sleep
@ night
not no more
you grew up and left me

ive grown in
not up
my thoughts are expanding
getting more violent and
repressed

i shake so hard
my knuckles are white
but i cant
bring myself to
you

the ground im standing on
is so goddamn broken
that the time when i wanted
to peak
ended

the monsters are more
real now
and less so out there
but in me

get the voices outta my
head
babbling schizo
half dead

i wish i could prove my point
in politics
or say what i need to with white
out in hand

my mistakes are many
my flaws are pointless

wheres the flashlight?
i need to shine it inside

been a while
been out sharpening my nails
   on the backs of boys dressed like
     crocodiles leather and lace all hooker mace
           lines out here deliver like the best punch line
               i dont do it for the show no more cuz
                    no ones watching and no one knows
                           been a while
                                 since i carved a smile into
                                      your face but tears roll
                                            easy now dontcha know
                                                         been out sharpening my nails to
                                                              use em on you  
                                                                   but the rain wont stop
                                                                      an my flights delayed
                                                                             get out the house get away
                                                                                    cuz i been out fightin and its a while since
                                                                                       i been away.

I keep on having dreams
Where my only comfort is
knowing

That your out there
Somewhere

Hiding,Sleeping and Alive

Out of Harms way
from my broken lips
And horrid mind

But I can't keep hoping
Like I do

That you'll come back

Crawling, Groveling, and Love Sick

From the many nights
I've spent up
Cursing You

Because In My Dreams
My Only Comfort

Is really

Only The Idea Of You

It's funny
How missing you an entire
summer

Is quickly turning
into a "what was I thinking"
Fall

Into Eternity
My Brain is washing
Thoughts Of
And us,
we,
a you and me.

God it must be like
Dying
To be living on edge

Tip toeing
between whats real
And that gimme gimme ectasy day

Like breathing threw spandex
Just enough to
make you want more
oxygen

Never wanting
to hear
what anyone else had
to say

Besides the
music would be
too loud anyway

I wanna live that
way

but you know what they
say
Live Hard Die Fast

A week ago I never knew
That an avant garde
music style existed

I also never knew that
it would remind me so much
Of you

With your looks
and stares
always knowing what to say
without moving

But of course all good things
come to an end.

Like when I found out
Avante Garde
doesn't really have to
many bands

and that  I never really
liked you.

I'm getting sick with
The Sickness
Of back to school

Back to backstabbing
Sad girls with pretty eyes
Writing poetry on the wrist
Of they're album cover
looking baby blue

A state so contagious

Fill me up with
Sun and Sand
Let me be
who I am

I don't wanna go back
I don't wanna go back

My mantra
is still spilling
Little ink driven
paper
'You can't..you can't..."

Live without
You

I'm getting sick
With the sickness
Of back to school

What happened to you?
Did your family never give you enough attention?
That you gave it up for a boy
who only came to solicite
your affections?

Can you not see
That she
who gave you air
and birth
struggles with the
daily idea of having you hurt?

I knew your mother
I knew her good
She never hurt you,
like other mothers would.

Being  a runaway
from a home of opresssion
and depression
where you are scared
is different

than running away
from your own reflection.

I don't know where
you are, who your with
or if your even truly that far.

But once you've given all you have
to give

He will leave
dead dying
in a ditch.

You'll be left to roam
in streets,
bar rooms,
shelters,
alleyways.

With the rats
the mice,
and wild men.

Do anything for a dime.
A Nickel.

'Please sir I'll make it worth your time.'

You still have time
Turn back now
Walk away
Don't Make a sound

The doors still open
Come Home Now.

If
my insides
where as gritty
as my taste

would you still doubt
me?

Because every morning
when I wake
up from
my sleep

I get shivers
down my spine
remebering the things
you told me

last night

You make me sick
beyond my reasoning

Yet here I go
again

Playing doctor
Like I Do

Telling you
To keep the
sword away
from
Your Heart

Suicide isn't
As glorious
As a new start

Have you
ever written
poetry
so
persnal?

It's like a tattoo
on
your skin?

But an open
secret

To the one
you let it
read?

Hoping they catch on
To the
real poetry
written in
between?

To the
tear drops that aren't on
the page

Because you held them
in

To the sweat on the
palms of your
hands
from
the pen
that kept dripping
ink?

And as the
beauty fades away
and they become

just words
on a page

they look back at you
and you at they

and for a second
you can see

just passed
their worried eyes
and their
frayed jeans

( or their trembling lips)

that they know
exactly

what it means.

There is a room
In a small highschool

Where the teenage
Heart aches
Came to die

On a couch where
the poets
came to lie

And contemplate
The diffrence
between dying
and suicide

While the future
Directors
organized

Asking whether
she was ugly enough
to be beautifully alive

Or just dead inside

Such a place
Such Liberty

Watch your children

For in this
On the couch where
the poets came to lie

and the directors
conversed

in the small highschool

There
They learned what it feels
Like to be  alive

I want to
Hear your voice
As clear as I
Can hear

That Dixieland
Whore Voice
Of Hers

And The Acoustic
Set
Behind Her

Chanting  The Rythm
Out Of Words
That Held Meaning
Only Two
Years Ago

But If I hear your
Voice
It would Have
Changed

With
Time
And Age

And I would
Have to Strain

To Remeber
The Little
Boy

I met long ago
Once Upon
A September

I want your voice
Over an acoustic
Guitar set

In the back of my car
as we drive
Past the beach

Clean
and Pristine

Earsing our Sins
With The Petrol
On the Sand

Because when
I get up
Every Morning

I can almost
Not breathe
Between Our distances

And truthfully
I Can't stand it.

Figuratively speaking
You are the smoke on
My wind

Empty from Promise
And Eager
To be

Photographed
With The title
Underneath

' The One Left Behind'

I am not a self promoter
I do not write my name on mirrors
So you can see it.

I do it neither for art
Or exposure

I  do it for the simple
Pleasure
Of seeing all those syllables

Forming me

On a surface
So Illegal

That
Its reflecting
Surface

Is staining me