Before I met you I could breathe on my own
Yet now, everytime you look away
My throat starts to close
And my breath is trapped in my lungs
Before I met you I could stand on my own two feet
Yet now, everytime you leave me
My spine begins to crumble
And I end up sprawled across my bedroom floor
Before I met you I felt ok for the first time in my life
Yet now, everytime you ignore me
My heart longs to stop beating
And I wish I could go back to a time when you weren't the only thing on my mind
May 27, 2019
May 27, 2019 at 5:49 AM UTC
Between us there's this ticking bomb
As my insides are set on fire
And I choke on all these words
The tension is so suffocating
I feel like Im being buried alive.
My world has turned apocolyptic
Each and everyday is a fight to survive
While you just stand there...
A glazed over gaze...
Unaware of what you have done...
Or maybe just oblivious by choice....
But I can feel the timer running out
And I swear to god
That if I become a casualty,
If I am caught in the blast zone
I'm taking you down with me.
May 12, 2019
May 12, 2019 at 4:49 AM UTC
I could write love poems for days
Yet not once have I been in love
(With someone else that is)
I could write a book of sonnets
With no one to recite them to
(Except to myself of course)
I can preach about the danger in our love
And the joys in our heartache
Because I am a Narcissist who hates myself
I am an utmost contradiction
An antithesis, an oxymoron
(or maybe just a ***** full stop)
Either way I have loved myself
The way the moon loved the sun
And yet I've destroyed myself
The way Mt Visuvius destroyed pompeii
Relentless, and still gentle,
A beautifully tragic mess.
Self love turns to self hate
With the flip of a switch of my bedroom lights
Light turns to dark
And I turn into my own worst nightmare
Becoming my own demons
And when morning comes
And I'm so bloodied and bruised,
Ill nurse my broken body tenderly
Reviving my former self
I'll look in the mirror and see
The only friend, the only lover, the only person
That has ever stayed
And i'll remember why I love who I am
And how I am strong,
Stronger than my demons,
Than my own thoughts ,
And stronger than myself.
Dec 27, 2018
Dec 27, 2018 at 6:52 AM UTC
this isn’t going to make sense
cause it’s not supposed to
and if I’m being honest
this isn’t for you
it’s not even for me
I’m stuck
I’m trapped
I’m lost
I’m every other word that describes people who feel at a dead end
I’m typing on a ****** phone
That’s connected to a ****** connection
That could possibly be a metaphor for my life
I’m writing
Because I don’t know what else to do
I’m writing
Cause that’s what they told me to do
But they also told me that what I think isn’t always true
That I’m special and I just don’t see it
But that’s the thing
I don’t see it
And if I don’t see it then why should it matter if anyone else does
And if I’m thinking something why should it matter if it’s true
What matters is that it’s in my head
What matters is that it’s always there
But here I am
Stuck in the same place
Back to square one
No progress made
The same questions, whether true or not
Will I amount to anything?
Do I really help?
Am I really worthwhile?
Do you actually care?
I see these people
When I’m online
They smile and post
They edit and pose
I can’t help but wonder
Do you really smile, or do you just do it to look happy like me?
Do you really feel happy, or are you trying to lie like me?
Do you understand what I feel?
Or is it just me?
I’m not trying to be selfish
I don’t want a lot
I just want to be happy
And I want others to be happy with me
But neither is happening
So instead there’s a poem
That doesn’t even ryhme
That makes no sense
I’ll try harder
Dec 10, 2018
Dec 10, 2018 at 9:05 AM UTC
A friend asked me
how to be a writer.
I wanted to say,
lock yourself in a room,
scream until you have
a poem and no voice.
Open your veins and bleed
until you know that your bones
are pure words and sorrow.
Act as if you slit your own throat
and all you can bleed
are your own regrets
and all of the darkness
you boxed up for inspiration.
Write your mom a letter,
tell her you're leaving
and you won't be back for awhile
Because being a writer is traveling
through all seven layers of Hell
and denying anything is wrong.
Forget loving yourself
when all you have is a pen and paper
fused to your wrist
and Jesus is tapping at your skull
saying turn back now.
Warn the neighbors that if they smell burning
It's just your soul
clawing at the front door trying to get in.
Learn how to be alone.
Learn how to lose everything you have
in order to feel release,
learn how to only feel deceased
from now on.
A friend asked me
how to be a writer.
All I said was
don't
Dec 4, 2018
Dec 4, 2018 at 11:03 AM UTC
Someone stole my color
And threw it to the wind
Scattered like ashes
I don’t know if I’ll ever find it
Someone stole my color
From the face I know so well
I saw it in the cotton candy clouds
And the teal ocean swell
Someone stole my color
I guess that’s where it went
The world looks so much brighter
Like something heaven-sent
Someone stole my color
And that’s what no one knows
Depression isn’t black
It’s the color of a rose
It’s the light orange in a sunset
And the yellow of a peach
Light blue, my favorite color
So simply out of reach
Purple like my favorite eyeshadow
No, lavender, I’d guess you’d say
And my favorite music artist
Although he has passed away
Someone stole my color
Now everything’s too bright
I suppose sometimes darkness
Isn’t the opposite of light
Someone stole my color
So I’ll wear grey and black
As if in mourning
Until I get it back
Nov 12, 2018
Nov 12, 2018 at 11:06 AM UTC
Sunday morning coffee
Old books and ***** snow
I don't believe in angels
I don't believe in angels
I don't believe in faith
Because roses can be mistaken for weeds
And the devil can be mistaken for human
But honey, last night I watched while heavens collided in your eyes
Nov 12, 2018
Nov 12, 2018 at 10:59 AM UTC
Spiraling
down
a pit
of anxiety.
When suddenly
A
f
r
e
e
f
a
l
l
headfirst
short
sharp
burst.
And then
P r o c r a s tination
spilled un e ve nly
on a tiled bathroom floor.
Nov 7, 2018
Nov 7, 2018 at 8:52 AM UTC
I want to be a supernova
An explosion of stars so big
So magnificent
That no one dare look away
But I am not that special
I am less than ordinary
I am a blackhole
A void in space
Empty of stars
Empty of emotions
Empty of words
Oct 21, 2018
Oct 21, 2018 at 9:24 AM UTC
We grew up together
Two peas in pod
You were my sidekick and I was yours
My one true platonic soulmate
So how did I let this happen?
How did I not know what was
Happening behind the four walls of your mind.
Behind the baggy sweaters that
Were suddenly "fashionable" all year round.
But if I think back carefully
Maybe I didn't miss it
Maybe I just ignored it
Ignored how when you got back from your
Summer in France the snug hoodie I gave you
Was no longer very snug
But rather hung like an ornament
On the thin frame of your body
Or how your legs began to resemble sticks
With a thigh gap most girls would die for.
Maybe I should have known the first time
You refused to eat your favourite ice cream
(chocolate mint chip) because calories!
When you told me you were in hospital
You said you were sick
But not in the way I thought you were
Because you didn't have chicken pox
Or pneumonia or bronchitis
You were sick in way that was much more twisted
You had a sickness of the mind
One that toyed with your thoughts
And messed with your sense
Until your body was wasting away.
I must admit at first I was angry
Because how could you keep this from me
I was your best friend and
You never told me your biggest secret
However then I was shocked
I could not understand
how you were in so much pain
And yet I did not know.
How had I cried for months
Proclaiming pain and suffering
That I believed no one could relate too
And yet here you were
Silently proclaiming the exact pain .
Oct 12, 2018
Oct 12, 2018 at 2:17 PM UTC