i've had my heart broken
more by my own father
than any other boy

... and isn't that ****** up?

I'm a gaping void
A walking mannequin
On autopilot

I'm submerged in ice cold water
Numbing my lips
Icing my soul

My fingers yearn for your touch
And the breadth of loneliness
Reaches farther than my thoughts

Darling, it would take light years to reach you
But yet I still wait
Drifting
And waiting to be whole again

perfection is unattainable
and darling this is why
i'm unable
to utter the words
i love you
because of the lighting
or because of the aura
not being quite right

or maybe it’s the fact
that i know deep down
in my heart
that you’re not quite right for me.

no matter how crooked a tree gets
in the end it manages to grow straight
and i guess i kind of admire that
because that would mean there’s still hope
for someone like me.

Um
Anxiety. Pain. Fear.
Crippling me
A cocktail of narcotics
Succumbing me
Into blatant
Paralysis.
How can you feel
So much
Yet care
So little?

honey
how does it feel
to be sipping on that
cold brew
of coffee in the morning
and a cold steep
of tea at night
to parallel
the numb
and the cold
that radiates
through your bones
and spreads to your
spindly fingertips
hoping for reprieve

i want to love you
but from an arms distance

i don't want you close enough
to see the hairline cracks throughout
my body

i don't want you as collateral damage
when i shatter

i don't want you to cut yourself
picking up my pieces

because honey,
you don't deserve someone like me
and i don't deserve
someone like you.

how to bite the hand that feeds you
oh darling, i’m an expert at that
you slam the door in their face
when they ask you to let them in
and you hold your breath
when they say i love you on the telephone
you purse your lips into a perfect line
as their arms encircle you in a hug
and with their last breath they’ll tell you
they love you
and only then -
will you return the gesture
along with the regret
of years of neglect.

she tells herself it's much better
that these wine stained lips
are better that blood stained floors
and that these lapses in consciousness
are better than collapses on floors.

Wow never have I felt so truly alone. You were always kind of my safety net. No matter what I did I knew you would be there for me. That's why I kept you at a distance because our friendship would be preserved in all it's glory if I did so. But I didn't realize that you were drifting away. I didn't realize you would. I just always, depended on you. You were a constant in my life and now that I know that this immaculate friendship I tried so hard to preserve has been dirtied I don't know how to feel. Actually, I do. Disappointed. And guilty. For not saying that I'm sorry until now. Maybe I should have held you closer.

what do you do
when loneliness makes a home
in your very bones
and your skin crawls
with emptiness?

your heart thumps
to the discord
of piano keys
and the ache
tingles and pumps
ice through
your human veins?

let me tell you about my father
who loved me
and my two brothers
at an arms length

on one end he held the world
for us and the other
held a rope that led
to the noose around his neck

he told us
he'd **** himself
before he'd let anything happen to us

and when they found
my eldest brother comatose and
sprawled across the linoleum tiles
at a ******* college party

day seven came and
he prayed to the devil
because apparently
god wasn't listening

well,
my brother's alive and well now
and every night
i pray for my father's soul.

i'm glad that you love him
and i'm glad that you were there.
i'm sorry that you lost him,
and he's no longer here,

but his memory still remains,
because you are here
to remember and maybe to forget.

you have a beautiful brain
with lovely worlds
and lovely thoughts
and never underestimate that.

honestly,
i'm just a ******* child
masquerading behind
big words and bold lipstick.

the kind of girl who craves
falling leaves
and coffee shop loves
with the soft plucks of a guitar
and the vague taste of tobacco
on his tongue

i tried so hard
but you hid the key
in the deepest crevices
only to be used as the last resort.

i tried so hard
to find meaning
in the words you say
envious of the way words
flowed out of your pen

i tried so hard
to put words to how i felt
little did i know
there was nothing to describe
all that was left was
the match on the ground
and the image of your back.

be kind to the earth
for it rewards you with its skies
and you choose to destroy it

it offers you its greens
and you choose to poison it

it rewards you with its tools
and you choose to
dig your own grave with it.

forgive me for i cannot see
beauty in sunsets
but instead beauty
in the soiled snow
on the sides of the main road

i'm sorry that instead
of flowers in my hair
and the wind's songs in my heart
i find joy in the strain of my eyes
from staying online a little too late

i'm sorry that instead
of the awakening of the sun
being the first thing on my mind
it's the thought of a train
on my way to the welcoming city

forgive me.

for i immerse myself in humanity
as opposed to the wonders of nature.

at four i wanted to be a princess
at eight i wanted a prince
at nine i wanted a bad boy
at eleven i wanted my first kiss
at twelve i wanted someone to love me
at thirteen i realized no one cared
at fourteen i wanted attention
at fifteen i stopped being there.

oh dear,
you reek of self loathing
and cynicism
i'm surprised you haven't
fallen off that *******
cross you nailed yourself on
and i'm sorry for the crude metaphor
but really i'm not
because this god didn't die
on the cross
just so you could hate yourself
and wallow in self pity

love, you're hardly sixteen
but i'm starting to think
you're digging yourself
a grave sixteen
feet under

does it tire you
hating yourself
because baby,
you're not the only one
without a perfect mommy or daddy

honey,
please step off that pedestal
you've put yourself on

my dearest,
i just fear
you might
tumble right off.

you know,
poetry is one
big pile of ****.
or should i say
****?

excuse me,
i hadn't had anymore
euphemisms to spare.

poetry is one big ****
euphemism.

my life *****.
i'm sad.
well ****, no one's ever gonna love me.

but instead,
no i waltz across
these subjects
and pretend all is well
because plate this
**** you have for life
in pure gold
and call it art

and hell,
you'll make ******* millions.

you know,
i'm really tired
of being the girl
that hates herself
and i'm really trying
to change that, i swear.

you know
i miss you so much
i miss you more than i even knew i could
i just want to wrap my arms around you
and for you to do the same to me.
i want to tell you all that's happened since you've been gone
i want to tell you while you hold me close
and kiss my forehead and listen to me *****
because that's how it is when we are best friends.

and well ****,
i miss my best friend more than i would ever admit.

All good things have to come to an end right?
This is what I can’t understand.
This phrase literally just dooms your whole life.
You’re having a good life right?

Wrong.

All good things have to come to an end.
Life is going to ***** you over in the end.

I can’t help but think that when I’m having an especially great week, it’s going to end. The better it is, the harder I’ll fall. The harder it will be to get back up and go back. This is why I ******* hate life. I can’t seem to comprehend the fact that life is always going to ***** you over and continually make you wish that you didn’t have emotions. Emotions run your life and I hate that. I hate depending on things. I hate depending on people because in the end they’re going to ***** you over. It’s human nature, or maybe a higher being’s, I don’t ******* know. My life seems so meaningless right now and all I want to know is that I’ve made a difference because right now I feel as unwanted as the dog **** that you end up stepping in on the sidewalk.

when i was little
i promised to myself
that i'd never be like my brothers.

i promised to myself that i would never
tire of our road trips together
and the hours we had just talking in the car.

but once i hit my teen years,
i understand.
it's been harder to talk to you guys you know.

and as much i want to be your little girl again,
i'm not sure if you want me back.

you know something?
i've typed your name
on my instagram search feed
a few times
and i think that's probably
the closest thing
i'll ever get to
writing your name
over and over in my marble notebook.

... it's nice to know that you're doing just fine without me.

******* it all
i want to be kissed
and have someone
who cares about me

because it's hardly midnight
and it's hardly
a late night convo

when the only person
that you have to talk to
is yourself.

you know i kinda
just feel empty.

yeah,
like. empty.

i don't know what it is
because i've had everything
that i wanted

but now i know why they say
that everything isn't always
what it's cracked up to be.

... and i'm trying to learn
how to deal with that.

you know what i admire
trees, yeah that's right
******* stepped on and used
and cut down and burned
but hey i bet the trees
only whisper
good things of us.

so you aren't my ideal boy
but somehow
the thoughts of you
steeped into my mind
like the tea i drink
late at night while talking to you
and somehow your smile
that vaguely resembles a fish
makes me smile at the very thought
you tell me about the girl you like
and although it isn't me
seeing your eyes sparkle
and your voice waver
and the uncertainty of
the way she looks at you
breaks my heart.

thinking of you
brings a sort of
sickness in my stomach
but do not fret,
i like you
maybe it's just that
i'm disgusted with myself

Never would I have thought
I'd come to dread
The many choices I have

How rude of me
To feel claustrophobic
Feeling run over
By the crossroads

I'm sorry for being
A privileged girl
In a first world country

Sorry for dreading my choices
In a world
Where I have the blessing
To have so many.

remember when we weren't?

remember when you drew me pictures
under the oak tree in the school yard?

remember when we kicked our feet so high
in hopes of beating each other in swinging contests?

remember when you gave me blossoms
from the boughs of your family's magnolia tree?

remember when our brothers were best friends
and we were partners in crime?

remember when you sat in the peanut-free table
and i followed because we would be together forever?

well i remember the day you told me you were moving
and forever barely lasted a month.

insensitive *****
self depricating
pile of trash
oblivious to the
feelings of others
what the **** is wrong with you?

wow
what an *******
what a jerkwad
what a *******
what a conceited,
selfish, self sacrifical
*******.

what makes you think
that you're stronger
than the rest of us?

what makes you think you can carry
this burden meant for others
and not break?

what makes you think you're not
loved like the rest of us?

what ****** you up so hard in the head
that made you believe that
you're not important?

why are you so quick
so willing
to jump in front of a moving train
if it meant saving another's life?

aren't you only 15?
why are you so tired of living?

that's you
"a lustrous rainbow-like
play of color"
an oil slick
a soap bubble
a precious stone
different lights
differential refractions
light waves
dark fringes
brings a new hue out of you.
i guess freshman physics
taught me a lot.

oh darling,
you must understand
i never meant for it to be like this
never meant for it to be us
locking eyes
and quickly looking away.

oh darling,
you must believe me when i say
you're merely a figment
of my wild imagination
you don't exist
and if you do -
well it's in my mind

but darling,
don't worry
i'll look for you in
the crescent moon eyes
of a real boy
to call my own.

for the first time that night
i screamed
i mourned
i bawled
over the loss of your heart.

i asked him
why
why speak with such
sharp words
and exact phrases?

why must it matter so much?
in turn, he quoted twain
cupping my cheeks and saying
"the difference between the right word
and almost the right word
is the difference between lightning
and a lightning bug"
he held his tongue in search for
the perfect word.

and i told him,
love
dear
darling
speak in the vernacular
for we all share the same blood.

sorry love,
i hate to break it to you
but we are all just minds
skirting around the idea
called the truth
instead,
we mask it
and veil it
with these tools
we call words
and in turn
the euphemisms
of our raw
thoughts
are diluted
and strained
and
never
to
be
taken
seriously.

"my god"
how conceited
how vain
how naive
of you to believe
that you're the only one
who feels pain
come back to earth
isn't the lack of oxygen
getting to that head of yours?

Maybe the stars are sad too
singing bright
with their tears.
paralyzed with sadness and
unable to move

maybe they’re sad
seeing each others’ beauty
but never their own
sad because they’ll never touch
sad because they’re stuck
in a cold, dark vacuum
that we call space.

maybe we’re all just stars.

i don’t think you understand what it’s like to feel like you’re lower than the grave six feet under that you wish you were in. i don’t think you understand what it feels like to wish that you carried the burden of a thousand people because they don’t deserve it, but you do. i don’t think you understand that everyday you wish you weren’t alive but yet you still live for the ones you love, because let’s be honest, if you were living for yourself, you would have been dead years ago. but hey, maybe you do understand. because this is adolescent angst and maybe, just maybe, you’ll live through it and see that it does get better.

oh dear what a mess we've made of ourselves
eclipsed minds skirting around each other
hoping to never cross paths
our darkest sides never to be revealed
i never meant for it to be like this you know,
you must believe it
crescent moon eyes smiling
to mask our strangled yearns
nebulae of thoughts from galaxies
with supernovas too strong
and black holes that consume us
both of us walking vacuums
void of emotion, void of contact
our planets revolving in different ellipses
and our constellations,
merely stars that will never connect
the universe expands
and how tragic it is that we just grow
farther and farther apart.

this boy,
he saw her pastel heart
in the petals of the peonies.

he saw their love
in the blossoming
buds of a magnolia tree.

he was reminded
of her floral scent
in his mom's gardenia patches.

he saw her untamed hair
in the wildflower patches
on the walks home from school.

but darling,
he was just painting flowers
for a girl who
would never love him

and that's okay,
because flowers wither
and so did his love.

pathos

it's a sort of
Petrarchan love
loving within an arms distance
don't get to close to him
he'll see your flushed cheeks
and inevitable smile
and think you're
absolutely pathetic.

ethos

the way you stumble over
your words and
all eloquence
shatters against the wall
as you fall hard for
the smile that reaches
his eyes and your heart
coursing through your veins.

logos

of course
it's not love
you idiot
you're too young for love
and it all ends
in heartbreak anyway.

i was hoping that
the next time I woke
i would be graced
with the presence of your body next to mine.

to be shielded
from the harsh clutches
of loneliness and desperation
that only you can counteract.

hey,
remember when i stayed up all night
thinking about all the possibilities
of you and me?

well now i knock out before the clock strikes 12
because i'm done chasing after you,
i've given up.

and there's a certain kind
of emptiness that comes with it
that only the bliss of unconsciousness
can numb.

sometimes
my heart swells
but lately
it's from
the thought
of you and i
bundled up
with your lips
pressed
against my forehead.