i breathe in
hold the nicotine inside my lungs
and release as i sigh
finding peace
the familiarity of the rush comforts me
calms me

life is like a shooting star
it blazes brilliantly
and it’s beauty captures all

until it’s dissent

after it falls it is forgotten
nothing more than a passing image

why is every poem about drowning?
crashing, falling, dissolving
why is everyone drowning?
an entire generation
pulled in by the tides of mental illness
why do we all hate ourselves?
was it the way we were raised?
or are we proof
that the theory of evolution is false
if survival of the fittest is true
then why do so many of us want to die?
a generation of sad
sad kids
betrayed by the chemicals
in their own brains
drowning
crying out
for seratonin

three simple words
rolling off the tongue
as easy as a summer breeze
they pick me up,
hold me in their arms,
repair what’s left of my broken heart,
and remind me
life is worth living
because
“i love you too”

a small flicker
just a slight light
off in the distance
a diminutive night light in the darkness

the darkness gnaws and consumes all
the light battles ferociously
growing in adversity
from a small flicker
to a raging fire

the light has won for now

i’m caught in a metaphor
a convoluted whirlwind
of words
and emotions

i was stupid for placing my worth
in another person
i know i was

but i can’t help it
your embrace was so soft
how could it not be genuine?

objectification goes two ways

some men daydream about Kim Kardashian’s ***
some women gawk at pictures of Zac Efron’s abs

we all argue with one another
and complain about double standards
while continually perpetuating them

true equality will only come
when we see more than our bodies
when we look past physical appearances
and understand
we are more than our shells

that at the core
we are all humans
with goals
dreams
hopes
fears
and anxieties
once we learn to look into each other’s souls
we will all truly be more than
objects

hand in hand
bodies contorted
heart pressed to heart

we became one

the scabs heal
leaving behind faint pink marks
over time the pink fades
only saying hello in the shower
you’re proud
because you’ve been clean
for over a month

but out of the corner of your vision
a silver gleam catches your eye
your blade lies on your desk
whispering sweet nothings to you
gingerly, you pick up your razor
and tenderly ****** the edges
caressing the red tinted tip

first you tell yourself:
“i’ll only make a scratch”
which progresses to
“i’m fine as long as i don’t bleed”
to
“**** it”
as you slice yourself like bread
and warm blood drips down
alongside tears
for you’ve relapsed once again