The madness was inside of me,
but it ignited at the touch of your hand.

A single kiss started the fire and it has been consuming me since.
You are my bad disease,
the consequence of my desires,

and my end.

Leo: Remember everyone is fighting. Be patient, forgive, but never allow yourself to be a doormat to those who care less about you than you do them. Forget the wrath. Find the joy in the power it brings you.

Virgo: Do not stunt your growth trying to entertain the opinions of other people. You know in the end, you have to be the most important person in your life. Grow.

Libra: Quit running. You will never find yourself in other people, so stop trying. Desperation does not look good around your neck. Hold your chin high and look inside yourself for what you need.

Scorpio: Go. Stop leaving claw marks in your wake. Know that what you think you need is not always so. You are worth more than what you have been selling yourself for. Pride is important to you, but it is still okay to cry if you need to. Say goodbye to what is less than you.

Sagittarius: It is okay to say no. Don’t apologize anymore for having an opinion. Speak your mind, let yourself be heard. Do not quiet your desires for someone else’s.

Capricorn: The past doesn’t matter anymore. Close the book, shut the door. Stop searching for answers and know that it all happened for a reason. It will make sense soon if you let it.

Aquarius: Do not make friends with your demons. Clean the skeletons from your closet. Take a long walk tonight and allow yourself to feel the weight of sadness like a moth eaten sweater. Fold it up in the morning and put it in a box. Throw it away.

Pisces: Stop being selfish and cruel. Put the bourbon away, put your phone away for the night. Sleep by yourself and see what you dream of. People are not trying to ruin you like you are them. Forget revenge.

Aries: Let go. Do not cling to what you think is saving you. Do not drink tonight, do not tell them you love them again if you do not mean it. Be careful to not push away the people who truly care for the one who doesn’t.

Taurus: It is time to stop caving in on yourself. Reach out to someone, stop to smell the flowers. Find beauty in this world again.

Gemini: You’re almost done hurting. I know your mother told you the storm never lasts forever and you doubted her. Let the rain leave you now. It is okay to not define yourself by your sadness.

Cancer: Let the things and people you are bitter about leave you. Do not let memories haunt you any longer. Wash them off in the river while it’s still warm. Baptize yourself.

I was 7 when I learned the art of touch
but that doesn’t make me ******’s sister.

I was 14 when I thought I figured out *** and love
were one in the same.

So tell me why everywhere you touched me
I began to turn black like a the band of a fake ring on a child’s finger

I began to turn a colour I could not wash off
with soap and water.

The darker I became the more you began to
smell of rotting meat left out in the sun.

You were festering and the holes in your heart
burned through to your skin.

Sometimes in my sleep
I still smell you waiting in the darkness.

And sometimes in the shower
I still find deep marks I cannot ever seem to get rid of.

Everyone in this life might mistake the look in your eyes as love,
but I will never be so easily fooled again.

She wrote about guns caressing her body in the summertime.
She got lost in the mountains to purposely create panic within herself and kept walking through spiderwebs until they coated her eyelashes.

In August, she dreamed of October
but never wanted November to come.

At 5 am she takes walks on the river before the sun comes up
and listens to music that hurts her ears through headphones.

She goes to work like none of this ever happens.

She sits in the dark until 12 am,
when her mind finally decides the day is done,
there is no more suffering to be had.

She dreams about knives.
She blogs about columbine.
She blogs about him.
She wishes he knew the streets can't love him more than she can.

She touches herself until it hurts.
She pops her blisters.
She waits for him to come back.
She knows he never will.

She wonders what would happen if
she flung herself off of the bridge a half mile from her apartment.

She writes about him.
Panic and sadness ensue.

She knows people call her a mystery, she loves this.
She decides to deny everything that makes her feel human.
She thinks she can do without it.
She thinks if she could go without breathing, she would.

She waits for the sun to come up.
She knows it never will.

He asked me, once:
"Would you die for me?"

I looked up at him, a smirk forming at my lips.

I slowly ashed my cigarette,
as if I was thinking of a suitable answer,
one that proclaimed my undying affection.

As I caught his eye, I said:
"Well, frankly love, I wouldn't even **** for you."

My body has not once been a temple.

I remember years ago,
sitting poolside with my grandmother,
her spidery, veined hands touching my knee:

"Your body is a grand temple,
only those who are holy are worth admittance."

And her stern sincerity made me laugh.

My body is a wet, lush jungle.
My body has been trampled through and lived in.

Destroyed, burned,
yet always continues to rebirth itself from the rubble and debris.

Am I any less for this?

My body is a mystery,
a slow wafer on the tip of a school boy's tongue.
A dark, cool place to rest your weary head.
A place to let your feet press into the rich soil
and feel like maybe you can call this home.

I think one time,
a man with dark hair and light eyes thought he could
reduce me to mere trees and rain,
not knowing the jungle is not a safe place.

Unlike those with temples for bodies,
my heart lives deep in a hidden cave guarded with
sharp memories that feel like claws.

My memories have teeth,
and my heart has a brain.