To die
to sleep no more, we say,
to end the heartache.
to **** one's self
to end the heartache.
selfish of me
to want to die
to **** myself
but selfish of you
to blame me for your discomfort,
i have too much discomfort of my own,
but im happy to share.
the rest is silence.
selfish of me to want to end the torment
morally correct of you to revive me back into
this life.
interrupted in the music of being seventeen.
the summer of my life
is too hot.
i stick to myself
the bubble i exist in
grows bigger hotter clamier.
i suffocate.
i take 50 paracetemol and a half bottle to bed.
i **** myself every day.
im already dead.
im selfish.
but its fine for you to want to keep me here.
you suffocate inmorally correct of you to revive me back into
this life.
interrupted in the music of being seventeen.
the summer of my life
is too hot.
i stick to myself
the bubble i exist in
grows bigger hotter clamier.
i suffocate.
i take 50 paracetemol and a half bottle to bed.
i **** myself every day.
im already dead.
im selfish.
but its fine for you to want to keep me here.
you suffocate in your guilt
a summertime sadness.
Mar 11, 2014
Mar 11, 2014 at 9:36 PM UTC
Original sin.
female sin.
my fault.
i take your sweet ripening self
your blossoming fruit
and i crush it down to the vinegar of an old soul.
what should sweeten the summer of your life
leaves a bad taste in both our mouthes.
with each new crunch i lose
my apple chewing teeth.
you can't won't don't
touch me
i couldn't wouldn't shouldn't
end this.
ripen me. nourish me. fuel me.
my knight who doesn't know it
and never will.
ill love you forever, Craig.
im sorry sorry sorry.
Mar 11, 2014
Mar 11, 2014 at 9:28 PM UTC
Days that would last for weeks
the hot heavens glaring down
on our small confused bodies.
being an aries, the year of the rat, the sign of the ram:
it all meant something.
i let those years fall through my
chubby untouched hands.
craving the hour id lose my virginity
have my first sip of teenage love
and burn my tongue.
i miss not worrying all the time.
if my hair fell out it was because
my sisters braided it too tight.
if i cried it was for bambi's mum
or a skint knee.
boys were for racing and climbing with.
i had a *** bottom and a poo bottom.
i didn't know my dad and I didn't have to.
my mum was my everything.
my mum never cried.
she didn't even have a first name.
i crave Velcro on my pink power-puff-girl shows
that lit up when i raced the boys,
when swear words were forbidden,
and baby's came from seeds, implanted via special bellybutton key.
i was tall and thin with dark hair and dark eyes.
these were just things.
spots were marks my sister got and hormones were a foreign country.
i didn't care about my thighs or my hair or my teeth
or the colours i wore or the size of my waist.
i wanted to race on my scooter
racing from dragons and robbers and wizards and dinosaurs
into the realms of boyfriends, ******* spots and ***
i thought it would be magical to be in such a hurricane of adolescence.
but my dragons and light up trainers are a magic we only taste one.
i crave the innocence.
Feb 13, 2014
Feb 13, 2014 at 1:47 PM UTC
What happend
to the days when we'd hold hands
and have conversations that flowed
like my crimson river that would
never infect our relationship.
what happend to
when id feel your cold hands travel
up my spine and not care
that i got shivers from them.
what happend to
the time when id fall asleep on your chest
but you'd kiss my forehead
just before i dosed off completely.
what happend to when all my
bad dreams had you as a hero
and when all my naughty dreams had
you as a bad boy.
what happend to when you'd
play with my curls and tell me i was pretty
or say i didn't need to stop eating again.
what happend to when you'd
text goodnight or
apologise for falling asleep without saying goodnight.
notice none of these are questions,
because we both ******* know
what happend.
i happend.
you happend.
she happend.
Feb 1, 2014
Feb 1, 2014 at 7:52 PM UTC
Hair tied tightly in her mothers favourite pleats
as tight as the chains that aren't there.
A pretty white sundress dress
for a pretty pure girl
living in the so-called summer of her life.
A ****** touch strokes across her chest
a touch that doesn't belong to her
an *****
black as the coal she would've got for christmas
if saints existed.
cross her heart and hope hope hope to die.
a little black book called the mind
buttoned, fastened and chained
so her demons don't escape.
tormenting her freewill and appetite.
enough.
her poor mother.
if she knew they'd get her too.
keeps them locked behind her ribs and eyes.
a prisoner, master of her own dungeon.
a tormented soul
an angel living among demons
white wings torn and tainted
by their words and actions.
evil.
every man, woman and child for themselves.
you don't know who or what
is lurking.
you're not alone.
noone can hear you scream from the space inside your mind.
.
Jan 16, 2014
Jan 16, 2014 at 6:21 PM UTC
To fill an empty mind
with an emptier stomach.
my brain does not belong to me
it belongs to the creatures who chain my mind
torture my freedom of thought
and cackle at my appetite in their chokey of secrets.
killing my mother friends and lover
with the secrets
they make me keep
locked inside my mind.
i want the smell and taste and texture and idea of food.
i do not want to eat
what i don't deserve.
the guilt sorrow and anger stirs my stew
or lies rumours and inevitable attention seeking.
"attention seeking"
what attention is worth this way?
no fame no fortune
not even beauty.
just disgust.
pure disgust on all parts.
I'm sorry i cause these fights.
I'm sorry you can't love me.
Its not your fault.
I'm sorry you have to look at me.
I'm sorry you see my thighs and stomach.
I'm sorry my broken mind won't let us be.
I'm sorry my lips are sealed.
I'm sorry I can't make you understand.
what could i have done in a past life
to deserve
this body
this mind?
Jan 16, 2014
Jan 16, 2014 at 5:43 PM UTC
I want it to be summertime
i yearn for the carefree says before
the stress panic and fists around my essential organs clench once more.
but that's the trick with life.
Time.
Time is a shallow swamp you must wade through.
It takes as long as it wants and we are all
pawns in its game.
all we can do is spend it wisely.
or drink yourself into a fuzzy grave.
Jan 13, 2014
Jan 13, 2014 at 11:11 PM UTC
The pulsing goo in my skull
torn between
my better judgement and
my human nature.
i ward you off
but i crave you near.
i apologise for my mixed emotions.
i want to protect you
but my pulse sends out an echo
for comfort.
i want to be held
but i slip into the tall shadow of
human nature.
i don't know how to end this
my mind tells me to
end it but keep it going.
i don't know what to
do or say.
I'm just
sorry sorry sorry.
Jan 13, 2014
Jan 13, 2014 at 9:29 PM UTC
You've never taken bad news well
I've never been that good at creating bad news.
I live to please and
you live to hear how pleasant you are.
how could this not work?
My apparent appetite for destruction shone through.
i live to protect you.
i wrap my scarred arms around you
preserve your untouched innocence.
but who protects me in such a land of gods and monsters?
noone.
not you.
so why do i find it so hard to say goodbye?
we do nothing for each other.
you feed off me like a leech
i lay and let you like roadkill.
this needs to end.
but who will end it all?
Jan 13, 2014
Jan 13, 2014 at 9:05 PM UTC
You've never taken bad news well
I've never been that good at creating bad news.
I live to please and
you live to hear how pleasant you are.
how could this not work?
My apparent appetite for destruction shone through.
i live to protect you.
i wrap my scarred arms around you
preserve your untouched innocence.
but who protects me in such a land of gods and monsters?
noone.
not you.
so why do i find it so hard to say goodbye?
we do nothing for each other.
you feed off me like a leech
i lay and let you like roadkill.
this needs to end.
but who will end it all?
Jan 13, 2014
Jan 13, 2014 at 9:05 PM UTC