I want to turn my self-hatred into something physical,
I want to keep feeling like death because
I'm so used to these feelings of guilt and regret-
in an ever-changing world, it's my constant.
You say you despise change-
then how on earth will you be able to stay by my side
as my eyes change with the seasons?
This nicotine tastes like (self) destruction
and I can't get enough of it,
because without it I could put the devil to shame
with the way my mind bends
and seems to snap away from reality,
leaving me shaking and seemingly broken.
The razor caressing my skin
takes my blood and breath but it gives me life.
This old journal I found reads about how
the voices in my head were trying to **** me,
the epitome of my anxiety
tears drip down my face,
I'm getting more light-headed with every passing moment
and I can't help but smile
despite the fact that I'd given up on life
a while back.
Up, down, my moods change with the hour
and these thoughts devoured my sanity
a long time ago.
You say you despise change-
how on earth will you be able to stay by my side
as I change with the seasons?

When I came back to school after being ill
and I got an ungodly amount of compliments on my weight,
something inside me sparked
my heart was beating so hard I thought it would stop
and I got a taste of a kind of happiness that I hadn't felt in a while-
happiness with myself.
Eventually the feeling subsided
as my meds were rearranged
switched around
dosages altered, types differed
and I started eating more again
and gained the weight back.
Now at 141 pounds
my mind is preoccupied
with daily fat and calorie intakes,
I keep reminding myself that
my stomach isn't growling,
it's applauding my strength and willpower
only giving in to the desire to eat
when I start to fall over.
1 sandwich,
turkey, lettuce, whole grain bread,
180 calories.
First and last thing today...
I promise.

I dreamed that
I was my own god,
that I had more control over myself
than you, but
2. I must have dreamed that
I was filled with air
and tied to a string
because when I woke up that morning in October
all I wanted was to get high
and hammered as hell, so
3. like Sean Thomas said,
I must have dreamed I was a nail.
4. I must’ve dreamed that I was deathly ill
because I wanted your touch more than anything
but woke up completely isolated from you,
and reacquaintance comes at a great cost;
I really shouldn’t be feeling
as lost as I do when out of the blue
you show up to my house at 1:30 a.m.
5. I’m sorry.
The few hours between kissing another man
and my decision not to tell you,
to leave you instead,
haunts me, but
6. I dreamed that he was the one holding me
for weeks on end
for weeks on end
for weeks on end
I did not say a word.
7. I dreamed I had a crush on him,
but I’m fairly certain I woke up
falling in love.

They say if you want to know
what someone is afraid of losing,
pay attention to what they photograph.
Maybe that's why I take so many pictures
of you and I together.

Looking up at the stars,
i remember how long ago
I tried to hide myself inside of you.
because darling,
you are a galaxy
full of blazing stars
and circling planets
and vastness,
you are infinite
and you always have been.
I remember how
we walked outside my house at night,
you tapped your feet against the pavement
and i gazed at the sky,
and at you,
longingly,
i watched you dance.
i've been wishing on the same star for years
but now, all i see
is the dullness of a cloudy sky
that you created
out of the dust of crushed pills.
You are beautiful.
your tired eyes and yellowed teeth
are not.
You are gorgeous,
but the scars and protruding bones
are not.
You searched for yourself
in glass bottles and burning desire
to wash yourself away.
you are a masterpiece,
your long flowing hair
your hips
your lips curled into a smile,
i was madly in love with you
but I have no idea who you are anymore.
you are worth everything,
but the alcohol is not.
the drugs are not.
Dying is not worth anything.

If I shot myself
in the heart,
maybe the poison
that is your voice,
your lips,
your smile,
your touch
will stop flowing
through my veins.

I value my light.
I value the rain that I can dance in
and the words and actions that make me laugh
that make my broken wings take to the air.
I value the virtual worlds that distract me
from reality
in the best way possible.
I value simplicity.
I value the writing that shields me.
I value the ones who protect me.
I value the notes and chords
that soothe my aches, dry my tears
and numb my pain.
I value the eternity that passes me by
every time I look into your eyes,
every kiss carries the gentleness of a first
but the intent of a thousand to follow,
but a thousand could never be enough
to show you what you mean to me.
I value the way that you wreck
everything about me
in the best possible way.
I value the things that show me
there's still a little bit of beauty
and hope
left in this world.
The word freedom needs perspective
because you say you wouldn't feel free
were you not cuffed to me,
and I could say the same about you
a thousand times over.

how i envy the sun on the days it hides away.
clouds dark enough to trick the streetlights into flickering on
layer themselves across the sky
and rain pours down,
giving everything it touches an opportunity
for a fresh breath and a new start.
drench my soul and let me emerge anew,
whole,
unbroken,
cleansed.
chill my skin and flood my heart
until it stops beating
and start it again with lightning,
i am your muse
your music
that you dance to in the pouring rain
and the lightning that starts your heart again.
trapped behind your eyelids in a distant memory
cars honking and speeding down a motorway far from here
is where you'll find me;
dancing in the rain.

i have so many idealized words for you
for your soul
for the way my heart sings louder
than any guitar, and softer
than the whispers
of early summer winds in the trees around you
as your fingers
pluck notes
that tell of times i can't put my finger on
but still sound like home,
and yet this skip in my breath
when i see you, even in my dreams
feels so indescribable,
as old as time and twice as unforgiving.
i can see years of feeling
in the way your body curls
around the guitar,
all of your memories
as plain for me
to see
as the burning soul in your eyes.
the sun bathes you in secrets
and i knew then,
it's always been you.

I close my eyes and I can feel the notes flow through my blood. My heart beats faster, my breath catches, every nerve in my body simultaneously more alive than ever and decelerating to match a sultry voice that sings of slowing down.  
I close my eyes and I see my grandfather, young. A fire, smoke billowing into the night, smooth tapping toes and closed eyes and a soul that knows more than it ever wanted to, a soul that sings secrets effortlessly to those receptive enough to hear them. Hands that move like water, burned into my eyelids, a voice decadent and rough that soaks into my skin and the sound tears me away into a reality I was never a part of, but always dreamed of. Smooth, soft, full of laughter, full of longing, full of feeling. Full of soul. Tapping toes, tapping hearts, tapping fingers on fret boards for listening ears and listening souls.