Suicide, Suicide be my guide.
Show me if its time.
In my room.
These retched cries.
Hear me scream, hear me cry.
My thoughts that torture me.
The ones I hide.
Tattooed on my arms.
The scars of a thousand knives.
My tears have finally run dry.
As I cry, on this silent night.
Suicide, Suicide. be my guide.
Show me if its time.
To stay or to die.

they tell her to let her imagination fly
but they don't know how much her hands shake
when she thinks of his smile.
the sun always sets
but the sound of his laughter
ringing inside her mind won't.
she wants to make a home in the stars
that twinkle in the galaxy of his irises,
but she knows better than to find comfort
in someone else's body,
especially a body that she has never
had the chance to hold.
they tell her to let her imagination fly
so she keeps thinking that she will someday
make a bed inside his collarbones
and that she will spend her mornings
watching him trace the outlines of her hips
with his fingertips like she used to do
with the strings of the violin
she used to play as a child,
but no one ever told her
that you can't make homes out of human beings.
she tries to imagine a world
where the distance between them is shortened,
where she doesn't have to look at the moon
and pretend that he is looking at the same one
even though he's probably asleep
and dreaming about someone else's eyes.
they tell her to let her imagination fly
and she wants to let it skyrocket
past the ozone and land next to where he is,
on the other side of the solar system.
they tell her to let her imagination fly
and she does, but not because she wants to.
she has to make up all the words herself,
the way he smells and the way he tastes
and the way he sounds in the air.
she knows that everyone needs a place
and that it shouldn't be inside of someone else,
but imagining a world with him
is better than imagining a world where there is no love
and where everything goes wrong.
which is to say, imagining a world with him
is better than imagining a world without him.

that feeling in the pit of your stomach as you raise your eyes to look at them, it's lethal

my love is like poison and the second upon exposure i'm left vulnerable but you're left affected forever, one step forward, a single blow to the lips and he has to open his eyes to see her face and remember this is real, she is real

it won't be movie love, it will be real love, and for that you must be warned - do not engage if you don't want after-*** cuddles and life contemplations, hot chocolate runs and holding hands without gloves since the heat from your hands are enough to warm the lack of oxygen reaching mine, late night laughter and cheesy dancing

do not engage if you don't want to let yourself fall in love, because it will happen slowly and if you realise when it's too late that you need to back out you need to know that like a bee who stings and dies, pushing me away from you after i've loved will cause me to be crippled not only by the weight of the falseness that i've been living in, but also the dense, crushing weight of my own love, of the letters and the kisses and the laughter

if you see me contemplate running after you when we say goodbye because i've always had a fear of departure, if you see my eyes light up when you walk into a room with an expression that can only be described as warmth and admiration, if you see my hand slowly make its way to yours in a desire to be held and comforted, if you see me love completely, depressingly, you need to stop me, because i'm warning you that if you don't i will get hurt and the pain of being locked out of my life forever will hurt you more in the months proceeding than it will hurt me as i learn to build myself up again for somebody else

you can fall in love with my lips, my humour, my dresses, my laughter, my smile, the emptiness of my eyes, the constant fear, the happiness when food comes, and anything else and everything else - but please, remember that it's lethal

it's lethal to love and to be loved, but it's the best poison i've ever really known

Skipping
Smiling
The pain kept under lock and key.
Rushing
Running
Don’t let them-can’t let them see.
Covering
Coloring
Paint away the evidence.
Shivering
Shaking
Posters on the wall’s indents.
Yearning
Yelling
Go the **** away!
Punching
Pushing
No one listens to what I say.
Groping
Grabbing
Here they come!
Slipping
Stumbling
I am so done.
Gasping
Gaping
Did no one teach you not to stare?
Black
Blue
The weight was too much to bare.
Flashing
Flocking
You’re gonna get what you deserve.
Bars
Beating
I have a family to preserve.

The relapse has already begun

He doesn't know that and I hope that he won't.

He doesn't realise the aftermath of saying something like that to someone like me.

He doesn't know about the bottles and bottles of water to feel full,

He doesn't know about the counting of calories.

He doesn't know what goes on behind the bathroom stalls

He doesn't know the reason I have a toothbrush to purge and a different one for my teeth.

He doesn't know about the tracking of kilometers reached,

He doesn't know about the regret of takeout,

He just doesn't know how bad it is