"Bye", I said.
Over the phone, which was foolish.
You were entitled to more than that.
It was foolish to dwell on the inevitability of last days together.
For fifteen months I waited and doubted.  
A beautiful hummingbird on my finger.
You never flew off.
Even when coldly advised you to do so.
Even when I had little to feed you.
Mesmerized by you, you delicacy.
But damn it all, it's ended.
I shook you off my finger and stuck up the other.
Tonight we bed down miles apart.
Lonely alone, and lonely in company.
And our love burned, but stung me sorely.
A man never repaired and prepared.
Old love scars that didn't heal.
Always frightened and delirious.
Letting my wells run dry.
So much of me hopes you call for me in the morning.  
And come despite my cold heart and shoulder.
Reject my last word, my deadly three letters.
Persist as I resist.
Stopping only when we find our wings woven and our nest warm.

they told me
                      “poetry is dead”
in hopes that when I found it I might leave it in its grave
in hopes that journeys might not begin
in hopes that I was

and, dying, I found it between
where the azalea knots its white crown and drops
between a hole in sunlight and the moon, where
between the living and the dead
a broken vase of its ashes sift

Wiping away the tears,
Seeing the scars from the blades.
Wishing for a new beginning,
Starting my life over again and getting a second chance.
Because of you telling me things will get better.

Living not for myself, but for others,
Trying to put myself back together.
Longing for someone to understand why I'm so destroyed,
Tipping over in the tiny breeze, going to be stronger in the end.
Because of you pushing me.

Getting back up on my feet,
Holding on tight.
Giving everything I've got into surviving through the night,
Hopes and prayers that are going to come true, someday.
Because of you and your Faith in me.

Blades are for the weak,
Riding in the surf of desperation for nine years.
Braving the demons that held me back,
Restoring my fire to keep on going now though.
Because of you being there for me.

Coming out the other side,
Inspired by you to turn my life around.
Crawling, eventually going to stand tall,
I am going to stick things out.
Because of you.

It's four o'clock in the morning
The only reason I am awake is because my brain thinks that in these few hours..when the rest of the world seems asleep..it will find my heart
When no one is around, when the whispers of our generation decease, and when I can peacefully sort out lost thoughts, I think it secretly hopes my heart will come back home and never leave again
An analogy of the sort, when referring to a missing child or animal
Of course in a more sentimental manner, but the point is not hidden

In the early morning light
I woke up sweating in a fright,
You weren't there, I guess my dream came true.
It hurts, it burns,
In my heart a curse,
It grows in strength like a young boy's tears,
And silently spreads, like how cancer appears.

If I ever fall apart,
You'll love and heal my quiet heart,
And thanks to you, I know no one will touch me.
You protect me from the cold,
you renewed my faith of old,
I'll take these prayers now,
Unfurled like greens in spring,
The gifts the days of light bring,
And pray to God my love returns.

I'll wait for you still, soldier dear,
I'm but a girl, but I'll not a shed a tear,
For nothing sears like a parent's worry.
Deep inside your father's eyes,
A hidden thing, blackened in the ash
Of a legacy inherited, passed,
In times of fire and peace
And you're the one to carry
What your grandpa also has.

There's naught to do,
The climb's not through,
And it's unfortunate that not just I depend
On the hopes that are born
From the loves you're fighting for,
And it's an end
Ceremony at which we'll laugh and cry.
I won't receive a pin,
Except to love the one I'm with
At last, and I've completed
A training of my own.

I don't want success. I want significance. I yearn to touch everyone. Explore their deepest fears, darkest secrets, most passionate desires, and beautiful weaknesses. My heart cries to save us all. I can't live for science. For math. For facts. I live to watch you breathe while you sleep. I live to stroke your spine and reassure you that it will all be okay. I live to trace your scars with my fingertips and leave my swirling prints on your skin forever. I live to give you hope for the present and future even though the past still glimmers menacingly behind your eyes and threatens to tear you apart. You are imperfect, and to me, you couldn't be more perfect. You have a purpose. You are beautiful because you don't believe it. I want you to know I love your every flaw. I love your every failure. I will go to the end of the world to rekindle your inner fire, and that is all I need.  Now I know that success will never make me whole. I only crave to kiss your wounds and make You while again. I ache for you to understand you are significant and I want to touch your life in an invaluable way that resonates in your dreams, thoughts, and hopes. I am intelligent, that will die along with my appearance and worldly accumulations. What will survive? What will distinguish me in this infinite circle of life-ominous and inescapable? I live to discover my purpose. I will fight to save you from a mortal fate six feet under, and that alone will save me. It is the greatest thing I could ever ask for.
Darkness will fall but we will not. I always thought my most destructive fault was my obsession with fixing the broken, but now I know it is my only chance to overcome the  monotonous pattern of life and death.

I went to church today
I don't know what I was trying to find
Hopes? Dreams? A figure to follow and some worthy morals?
I wanted advice, I wanted to feel alive

I left there with these words resonating in my head
"Homosexuality and suicide are abominable"
a short phrase that sums the fancy and elaborated speech of the preacher
Only the sinful suffer, and I guess that's why I am troubled.

I've thought of suicide jokingly and seductively
more times that I could possibly count
I have kissed girls and I am openly attracted to them
I am not afraid of saying it and with respect, showing it.

According to the bible;
Lesbians and gays was a punishment for not obeying God
Suicide is a way of controlling your faith
And the only one that has power over you is the Lord.

God gives you what he thinks you deserve
He knows you since before you where born
and because of that he is more responsible of yourself
than yourself itself.

Your brains are too small
how dare you to contradict the all powerful one with such disturbing thoughts?
He created all and everything, all and nothing
He knows what he is doing, and in no way you can try to question him

I felt more small and insignificant than ever,
How did a invisible figure matter more than my logical arguments?
Can't I decide what I want? Isn't it my body and my emotions the one in play?
There's other 8 billion people and you try to guilt trip me because I want to end it all?

Sinners will suffer only the prayer can save you, you can't save yourself, God will save you.
Isn't it better to try to put myself together? Wouldn't I be learning more with that experience?
Instead of repeating words of prayers, shouldn't It try to save myself or solve the problems?
How dare you to contradict the all powerful one with such disturbing thoughts!

If God chooses to give you what he believes is right
Then why am I the one in so much pain?
Why good things doesn't happen to good people and to the bad ones bad things?
Is it because the bad ones will always pray?

I went to church today
I tried to find support,
I wanted to confess
"Hey, I want to kill myself"

I thought that well...
If so many people could feel happy by worshiping
I didn't loose anything by trying
I instead ended up gaining: guilt, trouble, and a feeling that I will burn in hell

you made me so sick
you made me so sick i made myself sick
with the intention of ending up in the hospital
or better yet, dead
all in hopes that i could give you a taste
of your own medicine:
layers and layers and layers of pain.

but that was one long drawn out evil endeavour
and i'm glad i didn't succeed
because life shouldn't be spent with the intention
of trying to die
just to prove something to someone else
because no matter how much death
is glamorized in this goddamned society
there is nothing glamorous
about it
and in the end you will prove
nothing

there is nothing glamorous about
sticking your head in an oven
or drinking yourself into a stupor every single night
only to forget what you did or said or felt the next morning
there is nothing glamorous about
sticking your fingers down your throat
or carving poetic words into your inner thigh
just so you can feel or un-feel something

trying to die
does not make you
a tortured artist
it makes you
a miserable soul

yes, pain is useful
to create
without it i probably would not be writing this
but it does not define you
fuck them all
fuck society
stop trying to die to prove yourself to someone
dying proves nothing

take a hammer to the mirror
it's only a piece of glass
run into an open field and scream your lungs out
cry all of your fears out of your system like you did when you were five years old
stop being ashamed for feeling things
write down what kind of person you were this time last year
then next to it,
write down what kind of person you are right now
look at how far you've come
look at how far you've yet to go
be proud of yourself
think of the people who have left you
think of how good it will feel when you forgive them
think of someone who has left their footprint on your heart
now go tell them you love them
now leave your footprint on someone else's heart
make sure you tell them you love them

you matter
you matter
you matter
you matter
i swear to God i'm not joking
i don't fucking care if you don't believe me
and it isn't going to be easy
be terrified.
be brave.

you matter
you matter
you matter

you matter.