i promise to make pain look beautiful,
i will make you wish for thorns instead of roses
just so you can feel my ebony words,
just so you can choke on the bitter truth
for a while.
i promise to paint love as the most beautiful sunset you’ve ever seen,
i will make you give everything
to have a world of your very own.
i promise to hold a permanent spot in your mind,
trail through your thoughts like music notes,
feelings so overwhelming you can’t breathe.
i promise to have you scribbling lines on any surface you can get your hands on,
post-its and notebook pages and tree bark
and your ex-lover’s lips.
i will make you ******* words, cloyingly
sweet with an acrid aftertaste once you realize
”oh, he’s not actually hers.”
i promise
to make you feel something.

my mother tells me i’m lucky,
father says i’m blessed.
but it’s hard to count any blessings
when i’m always out of breath.
grandma says i look pale,
it’s because i’m not getting enough sleep.
when the farm becomes abandoned
it’s hard to count any sheep.
i’m a mess who makes more messes,
sister tells me it’ll be alright-
that even in my darkest moments
i must remember to turn on the light.
but i think the lightbulb’s broken
or maybe much too dim,
because the only joy i feel
is when i’m looking up at him.
i’m tired of being sorry,
i’m sorry for being tired.
in life these days my
happiness and satisfaction isn’t required.
so it ***** if i’m a disappointment
but it’s hard to focus on grades
when instead my mind likes to relive
every mistake i’ve ever made.
i really didn’t mean to hurt you
i hope you can learn not to be mad.
i just wish i didn’t always go through the day
feeling so ******* sad.

what i would give
to see what you're listening to,
to know if you hide behind your music like i do,
let the lyrics shout the words
you are too afraid to whisper.

with words made of thread and
lips like a needle,
you weaved your words through me,
healed me, closed
all wounds.
but the thread was thin,
easy to break, and
with the slightest force, it snapped.
each time i turned away, there you were
with that same golden thread and those same loving lips,
ready to fix me over
and over again.
but how many times can the wound reopen
before it can’t be sewn up again?
how many times can i get my heart broken,
before learning that it’s okay not to forgive?
how many times does it take for you to pull back
until one day, finally
you just don’t come back?

please know that I love you more than the stars, the sun, and the skies could hold.

but I don't know how to fix something without damaging it the process.

you are fragile, and my hands have unintentionally fractured you countless times. I know this, even though you've never explicitly told me.

I dance on eggshells around you: I am atlas, pirouetting across an empire of thin ice, just so I don't mar you with my words.

swallowing conversations and feelings is a talent we both possess. to spare the pain of the other, we dampen the truth. we drink the fires of resentment and leave them to ferment.

I cannot fix this without potentially damaging it further.

I'm a storm with skin. my collateral damage knows no bounds, spares no mercy. you know this. but hear me, and heed me closely.

I don't paint you as the villain. you aren't the martyr. we are equally responsible for this damage and decay. the rot of something once beautiful.

yet I cannot fix something without causing further damage.

we are a two way street. growth of beauty cannot flourish in stagnation.

please, do not test the limits of my volatility. I cannot mend the tatters of thirteen years with a single spool of thread.

I refuse to swallow fermented resentment. I walk on eggshells carrying mountains for you no more.

this tapestry will end in one of two ways: opulent splendor, or devoured by living flames.

I cannot fix something without destroying it in the process.

after 14 years of bullying and abuse,
mentally ill she seeks a thrill,
she seeks validation from anyone in this wide nation,
she just wanted some good attention,
to relief some of that tension,
she just wanted a friend,
but her autism made it hard to comprehend.

It started out so innocent,
she could not see his intent,
he moved in slow and calm,
he had her in the palm of his hand,

they finally met and behind all of the distress
she felt like he ment well
then it all turned around and became hell

he wasn´t  who he said he was,
and the girl ran out of all her luck,
forcing her into submission,
he could do whatever he wanted,
bewitching - her with charm and kind words,
that innocent girl turned against the world,

the depression got worse,
and in the end she just wanted to purge,
she wanted it gone,
her family, her school the world,
she was alone,
nobody to her support,

and as the days grew old,
she made another attempt on her life,
she succeeded,

that´s how I wish It would have ended sometimes
but I kept going,
I held my head high,
I am not that innocent anymore,
and my soul is forever sore,

I´m still fighting my demons every day,
and I will for the rest of my life,
until I finally hit the hay.

Pain shoots through my spine,
blood flow is restricted,
to the pain meds I´m starting to get addicted,

I can hear the bones in my knee krack,
and I could feel the tendon snap,

I spent my life training, riding, playing, swimming,
now everything is compromised,
this ontop of all is hell summarized,

but Im plowing through,
screaming in pain,
but nothing can stop me now,
my head is too deep into the game.