it's been a while
I don't feel the angst anymore
most of the time
but some days I wake up
and feel that existing is a crime
I have goals
there are places I need to get to
my future is in front of me
but it's hard to get up
I don't know how to be
I don't feel like a "real" adult
in fact, I don't feel real at all
routines play out the same
but I want it to be different
change is blocked by shame
but if I could just paint with a hand
claw the pigment beneath my nails again
it'd be creativity unplanned
but I'm tired of trying
I want effortless success,
a gift for all my endless prying
but I won't find that
because in places I've been,
there's not much to look at
Feb 26, 2017
Feb 26, 2017 at 3:05 AM UTC
Last time I went to the doctor
I was prescribed prozac
Because my heartburn was a symptom of purging
Instead of misplaced acid
One pill to stop the thoughts from urging?
Seems like a plug to a hole
In a poorly designed boat
that could barely float in the first place
The water is the least of my problems
Honestly I’d like just one saving grace
I completely lack discipline
How could I not get addicted?
Another need to prevent going mad
Growing darker and more fragile
Like a fruit going bad
Dec 26, 2016
Dec 26, 2016 at 7:36 PM UTC
My swollen face looks ugly in your mirror
I feel like my tears water my own personal hatred garden
and you pick its flowers
Maybe you should
New dirt is better than my drowning stems
I do not believe the sun is real, any more
And if it comes back it will burn us alive
Feb 13, 2016
Feb 13, 2016 at 10:23 PM UTC
i don't know what i want any more
there's a bitter taste in my mouth
and french kisses don't even fix it
apparently i've developed a tolerance
to sweet breath and a tongue on my ****
take my hand or my waist
either way is a waste of time
i don't think i'll ever be good
i've tried to be nice
and i was misunderstood
Sep 10, 2015
Sep 10, 2015 at 8:38 PM UTC
I feel like I'm constantly unraveling my own knots;
I've got cords filing every space inside me
they wrap around each ***** squeezing as they please.
I cannot ask for them to disappear, or even to unknot.
I only wish to understand them,
or at least find a place in this maze of tangles to own sanity.
I want to stop fidgeting,
********* between the loops,
trying to find an escape through them.
It is hard to uncoil a strong grasp on reality,
especially when it is
wrong.
Jul 2, 2015
Jul 2, 2015 at 11:33 PM UTC
It is strange to realize
that pleasures feel sharper
when you are broken
The taste of tears
is refreshing
to a dry tongue
And if you don't
believe me
touch your bruises
Feel the colors
of your sorrows
and tell me there is no beauty
In potential tomorrows
Apr 20, 2015
Apr 20, 2015 at 7:34 PM UTC
I really tried to let my nails grow out
but I just had to bite them
Waiting is simply not a skill of mine
I will admit that patience should be desired
but I will not lie and say I am fine
I took three baths today
I tried to scrub away my sadness
but the water was quickly soiled,
my body dissolving
in a tub of the burnt and boiled
I left a trail of wet feet on old tile
and fell into my nest of isolation
I can't be bothered to even get dressed
Because it's just another day of nothing,
and yet I am incurably stressed
Apr 16, 2015
Apr 16, 2015 at 10:19 PM UTC
If I am to die with ink on my hands,
Please leave it be.
Do not wash even the smallest scrawled reminder,
For it is part of me.
Leave it to remind me that even in death,
There are things to do.
Leave open faced palms,
If they confess my love for you.
Know of the unexpected,
And if you see your name,
Remember why it is written.
You are not to blame.
Let my skin keep its faces
For when my own is no longer revealing,
How will you know what I thought,
How would you know what I was feeling?
Mar 22, 2015
Mar 22, 2015 at 8:13 PM UTC
I feel so tired when you leave
My heart pushes blood through my body so loudly
I'd just as soon die as sleep
But my cheeks are still flushed red
And I remember that you'd be sad if I was dead
I can't think of a time I am more alive
Than when I'm with you
Living lucidly, but still wanting more
We're so young and so ******* bored
And I can't decide who's more adored
And I almost can't bare it anymore
Feb 12, 2015
Feb 12, 2015 at 1:52 PM UTC
I cannot contain my fear of death,
Or rather my fear of disfigurement;
My skin refuses to stay clean,
regardless of my constant cleansing.
I am marked and pocked,
a map of wounds and stains.
I am everything red
and nothing clear;
even my tears displace pure color.
I fear the loss of my special normalcy
of which I am barely confident.
My first defense is also my first impression,
and I can already feel the distaste.
Dec 8, 2014
Dec 8, 2014 at 8:40 PM UTC