i'm tired of defending myself.
the things I do or don't do.
sick of explaining the way I'm feeling
and the reason behind my means to cope.
the less fight I put up,
the more attacked I feel.

I don't want to talk
because you don't like the things I have to say.
They're too negative
or I don't say them with enough zest.

I vent to you and I can see the hurt it causes.
I hold it in and I seem short.
What is the use.
I try, only to have the worst assumed of my good intentions:
"Don't make a thing out of this (you argumentative *****)."
So maybe I should quit trying so **** hard
(if i'm just going to end up wrong either way).


******* out of here.
I'm sick of being sorry.
(I'm allowed to have off days too.)

I used to be pretty. My skin once pitted deep around my collarbones as if my skin were being pulled so taut, the bone nearly burst through it.
He said: “I’m not going to pretend there aren’t times when I won’t go down on you for the sheer fact that I fear being smothered by the cellulite of your thighs.”
He said if I wanted to be told I was pretty I should be with a man that says yes more than he says no.
He said: “I’m not for the weak of heart.”
But he overlooked the fact that it’s my ego that’s weak.
So I punch at my thighs until I’m certain they’ll bruise. And when I wake up in the morning with legs blotched purple - I will remember what stands in my way of reaching the realm of perfection.
He said: “Love means I don’t have to be careful with my words. Means I don’t have to withhold what I want to say.”

And I believed him.

Conversing,
Conversing,
Conversing -
seen 11:05pm
Typing,
Typing,
Typing.
Delete,
Delete,
Delete.
Too busy to say bye.
Leave,
Leave,
Leave.
*******.
Let me cool down.
I don't want to talk with you right now.

Airy, airy
Light,
Lightest.
Alone,
Alonest,
But not lonely.
I feel mischievous
And full of the courage to do something about it.
I am royal.
I am a laugh and a half.
I'm mental,
In the best of ways.
Ask me why I'm smiling.
And I'll tell you as my fingers graze against your flesh.
I'm invincible
In my little dress made of red lace.
Call me crazy cause I am.
But I won't let you rain
On my holiday.

I don't want to be found.
people are hard,
People are hurting.

But I'm a fragile beautiful thing
it's just going to take the right person to see.

just get through today. Just get through today.
there's nothing wrong. You're perfectly OK.

Use people like tissues.
throw them away after one use.
discard your emotions
until you hear further news.

I'm okay with being an acquired taste.
I'll repel the wrong people.
the right people will fall in love with me instantly.

I'm not convenient.
I'm not easy.
I'm fickle.
I'm bored.

love me and leave me like all the others before.

Self destructive
Is my middle name.
I forgot its not safe to be in love if you're not numb

Worried.
Worried sick.
But you're feeling better cause your boozey.
exit conversation
Ctrl
alt
DELETE
smokey shoes
smokey feet,
From walking on hot coals.
It's why you run,
Why you leave.
Dip your toes in water
Since I can't cool you down.
It was something I said wasn't it?
Maybe you need me not around.
backspace
backspace
*backspace

I need to make an appointment.
Pencil me in at your first availability.
Then you can talk to me.
Maybe then you'll tell me what's in your head.
As for now,
I'm feeling lonely.
Buy everyone is too busy to see.

One day I won't have time to be lonely.
And people will have to make appointments in order to meet with me.

Slipping away
Or never really mine in the first place.
I can make plans.
I could.

Look at this!
Watch me flail for attention
With the grace of a beached whale!

More free time,
But it'll cost me.
And I've got no limbs left to spare.

My innards become outtards
As you twist my flesh between greedy fingers.
I'm a distraction.

I'm always here
When your plans fall through.
Our plans always fall through
When you come across something better.

I know we can mesh,
But at the moment all I feel is distress.
I want my boyfriend.
I miss the infinite bliss.

**** it.
**** me,
To say you're sorry.
To make me glad
After an argument that's made me mad.
Hold my hips
And pull my hair,
Stick your hand in my underwear.
Mouth on mouth
Muffled moans
Hand on mouth
And squirmy toes.

Forget the flowers,
I want a kiss.

This is an apology
To make up for all the arguing.
I'm sorry
I'm not gentler
Not what you need
Not patient
Not relaxed.
I'm sorry I'm spiteful
And I get hurt so easily.
I'm sorry for yesterday,
The day before.
For the times I'm argumentative.
That I don't like bowie.
Sorry for when I'm sad
And when I make you feel bad.
When I pity myself
And get jealous.
I'm sorry.

The distance is spreading wider.
Remember the days when you liked her,
Liked me.
When we got along.
When we didn't need to be alone
To cope with being apart.

Get so upset
Text your ex.
Feel so broken
You're drinkin and token.
Hurt so deep
Weep and weep and weep.

This is the life cycle.
The story behind every pair of sad eyes.
I've run out of ideas.
I'm this close to exploding.

What's wrong?
Why so sad?
Why so mean?
We've still got six months
Left of our sentence.
But you're stuck in isolation.
You don't hear me.
You're not listening.
We don't talk,
We yell.
We don't discuss,
We shout.
These bars have hardened us.
They'll be no niceness left when we're
Released.

I'm too busy looking for people to be lonely with,
To enjoy my own company.
I'm ******* thrilling,
And if you don't agree then perhaps you're not stimulating enough for me.

Independent.
One thing I've never been accused of being.
Because I'm a leech that clings and feeds.
A moth that hovers too closely to things that singe its wings.
I'm this omnipresent mass of sadness and tear filled eyes.
But independent?
No.
I'm not that.

Let me tell you about this boy I love.
His name is common, but I've never met anyone like him.

He's got mood-ring eyes
and an open-mouthed smiled.

He lives far away
but I've never felt closer to another person.

We're not exactly the same people we were as when we began.
and that's not a bad thing.
In fact, it's quite good.
Because that means we've grown
and he hasn't gone away.

It means he's the one that's going to stay.

let me tell you about something I learned through my travels,
regardless of the fact that i've only ever stayed in one place.
play with the same toy enough,
and if you're not careful - you'll break it.

shook up,
got stood up.
for a couple of gals in shorter skirts.

made plans,
***** demands,
i'd oblige without complaint.

if you sat still,
you'd get ill.
at least that's what you've convinced yourself.

i've been called a *****.
been called a tease.
been called a ******.

and that's just the start.

flinch at things that have no meaning,
but sound like they should be offensive:
****.

no, no sweetie.
the words that hurt me
are the ones laced with gold
and grown in a field of baby's breath.
no, no honey.
the words I fear
are ones you can't hear
because they're hidden between the lines.

victimize
with those eyes.
the ones I saw staring back at me.


                                           you transform my distress
into your guilt.
I'm not a scapegoat
for the way you feel towards yourself.

                                                you're blamelessness
                                                reminds me of my shamefulness.

i'm convicted of crimes against humanity
convicted of crying over you and me.

                        you saw it didn't you?
                        that I couldn't make eye-contact with you.
                        because i'm no good.
                        but good at being bad.

disappointed in me,
myself -
because my best never seems to make it into your realm of goodness.
hiding
bleeding gums from when your words are pointed at me
i'm still finding the tiny glass shards you kept beneath the sheets.

You've always got that face on.
Always the victim.
Always bored.
You always say always.
I'm always late.
Always busy.
Always waking up early.
I always say sorry.
We always snark.
We always swoon.
We always fantasize
About a day in the future
When we're never not together.

Meet me in the summer when my hair has grown out a bit.
Meet me on a Wednesday at 4:00.
Meet me with open mouth and balled fists.

I'll come to you on day with a breeze that reddens your cheeks.
I'll come to you with flowers tucked behind my ears and your favorite song stuck in my head.
I'll come to you whole.

Let's go to the beach way past our bedtime.
Let's ride our longboards downtown and dart in and out of traffic.
Let's meet in the middle and then stay put.

Do you like me?
With all my tears and scar tissue?
Even though I'm emotionally unstable
And I'm still a bit afraid of the dark.
You know I'm sensitive and grumpy.
You know I'm insatiable and clumsy.
You know I'm a writer
Cynical
And spiteful.
Could you love me?
This mess of frizzy hair and insecurities?
Even though I self sabotage
And I very nearly hate everyone I meet.
You know I have stretch marks on my ***
You know I'm clingy.
You know I'm afraid of drowning
Heights
And losing you.

Well as long as you know.

Space.
Time to erase
The scars and bruises
I've given myself after getting too close
To things that hurt my mind
My heart
My skin.

My scars will fade.
I've just got to wait for
my memories to catch up.

The dark makes us anxious.
We're recovering from our fear.
The soothing murmur of my breathing
As I coo myself to sleep.
The gentle tossing of your body
A reminder that you're near.

It's okay to be afraid.
I'll be your nightlight.

Maybe that's why I don't have a mom.
Maybe she wouldn't like me much either.

You want to keep me
But not own me.

Be close
But not hold me.

Love me
But not need me.

Have the power to break me.
I'm crumbling.

Torturous.
Surrendering yourself.
Being brave enough to give someone the power to hurt you.
And loving them all the same when they do.

I loaded a gun with good intentions
And pressed it to my head.

I didn't feel guilty anymore
Because when the gun went off I was dead.

Go sit in the corner and think about what you did.
So I sit.
And I think.
Because that's what you do in time out.

Sleep soundly
And dream of our legs tangling
Together beneath the sheets.

I'll snuggle closer to my pillow
And inhale your smell on the sweater you left behind.

You're my only source of warmth.

Excuses.
My vice.
But I'm quitting cold turkey.

Empty stomach.
Blurred vision.

The uncertainty will be the death of me.
(Should I start my mourning now?)

So take some pills
And pass the time
In a land of dreams.
Sublime.

The punishment of waiting in limbo.
(Afraid to hope for the best.)

Time to think.
To make up your mind.
One more drink
And you'll be fine.

I've burned through the trust I've earned.
(So I'll give you the power to break me.)

we're one big argument that's never going to stop.
Bickering.
Bitterness.
Bottled up hurts.

When did we get so good at this?
Causing each other pain.

When did the distance
Start pushing us apart?

When did silence start to feel more comfortable than talking?

Offensive.
Something that one of us said.
Taking turns playing the victim.
Apologies laced with guilt.
The horrifying rush of almost losing you.
Shove the doubt down deep.
Keep quiet until morning.
Don't make a mess of this.
Part of it is ***.
Part of it is just me.
I'm wavering.
Shoveling hurts into a fire.
To make them disappear.
Never sitting still
Too afraid of thinking.

Reject before rejected.
Eject like a vhs.
Perplexed
By the direction things have gone.

Forget before forgotten.
Bought some time.
Stopped
Checking watches so I didn't feel so blue.

Remember when we were driving home from a concert and held hands above the stick shift.
Recall the instance where I made you close your eyes so I could kiss you.
Think of the time we fed each other bites of mango with sticky eager fingers.

When you're sad know that I love you.
Know that I'm here for you.
And know that you never need to apologize for how you feel.

You're exactly who you're meant to be.

Send in the hounds
a brigade just escaped from the pound
to tear me to pieces with their incisors
And use their claws to wear me down
To an unrecognizable pink pulp
Of inadequacy and hurt feelings.

Because words won't **** me
Nor make me any stronger.
So have your will
Have your way
And I'll wait for your permission,
Until you say it's okay
For me to be sad
Happy
Laconic
Mad.

On your mark
Get ready
Get set...

I'm around too many people that are too obsessed with their bodies.
I'm afraid of being too skinny. I'm afraid of being too fat.
Molded into the right shape by the wrong society.
Pinching your tummy fat between sickly fingers with manicured nails painted blood red.
Your power lies in your body.
Men desire us
So we ought to be optimally desirable.
Inject fat from your *** into your lips
And give us a big sloppy kiss.

Waiting.
There's no negating the fact that I hate it.
Because it seems to end in
A change of plans.
Promises made to me have to wait
For those made to others.
Last minute rejections
Lead to further reflections
About time
And the things I spend it on.

Fool me twice
Shame on me.

I'm too available.
So I'll party to pass the time.
Dance once I've had enough wine.
An exchange of words
In passing.
May I have your attention please!
Undevided.
You're sliced up
And diced.
First come, first served.
And the fans want an encore.
How could you say no?
Nor would you know that I've been waiting all night for the twenty minutes when everyone else ceases to exist.

*Maybe tomorrow then.

and I want to be this perfect thing that you would want to show off to your friends.
maybeyou wear long sleeves now so you don't have to feel the cold against your arms.
but your arm hair reminded me how sweet you could be. How human. How thrilled by the smallest of things.
I wonder.
Do you still have arm hair under there?
too sad to talk to
sad because no one's talking
Not talking because far away.
While you're busy being busy
I'm thinking about what we'd be doing if we were together.
One drinks and the other sinks.
One's boozing and one's losing.
Mingling,
Praying - for comfort in the form of a hug
From the right someone.
Boring,
That's it.
The condition I'm diseased with.
Think of a complicated excuse
For a simple defect.
I'm that, personified.
Guilt guilt guilt
because you can't handle my wilting.
But your voice is still the same.
(I don't hear the annoyance. So if I close my eyes I can pretend it's not there.)
So why couldn't I be?

Relief.
A rush of it comes
As the words tumble out.

Because the words are true
And the feeling is nice
Which is precisely why I'd choose you every time.

It was always you
You were always the one
That I was going to pick
To give all my love.

My obsession is singular
By my love is plural.

1
Inward: humor, wit, intelligence, kindness, patience, affection.

2
Outward: teeth, lips, finger tips, eyes, hair, tummy.

You are every kind of perfection.
Even in the flaws you claim to have.
All my adoration
Especially when you're feeling sad.

Casual brush of friction wrought felsh
Causing metallic sparks of the rusty kind.*

Red cups.
Shuffling feet.
Dry tear ducts.
Unnecessary screaming.

It's only midnight.
It's only one.
It's only four.
The party's not done.

Take a shot.
Take a bow.
Keep your thoughts inside
Let the ***** out.
Not in the street.
How much did you drink?
What the **** is all over your shirt?

Go home.
Rest up.
Let's do this again real soon.

Baby your eyes are my demise
And I'm enjoying the road to decay.

****** martyrs
Tipsy tastes
Lavender coated lashes
And wordless betrayals.

We love each other differently
But that's not a bad thing.

We stay up late
Reaffirming our affections.
We go to sleep
And dream of a future where we aren't sectioned off by the sea in between.

This night and all those that follow
I'll grow to love you more and more.

Be careful with words.
Don't toss them around.
You may not realize how heavy they are,
And heavy things hit hard.