Once, I told you goodbye.
It was bitter and **** and my mind would race
My heart would cry and try to keep pace
But every time i opened my eyes,
They would water and my soul would die.
I smoked a cigarette in memory of you,
Drank a bottle of ***** and ran away from it all through
Thick and thin I would still stay
But then I remembered I pushed you away

Once, I told you goodbye.
I cried and cried once I woke
Sobering me up was certainly no joke
And once my eyes rested on pictures of his smile
My heart couldn't help but palpitate for a while

I know it's my fault and I know I shouldn't cry
But I'm sorry he was my everything
And I just let it die.

I love you
because I know
you want
to take this from me
and say
“Let me do this for you.”
even though
I know and you know
you can’t.
It’s a nice sentiment, though
made nicer by the fact
we both know
“It’s okay. I can.”
Just hold my hand.

I never write poems about my anger,
maybe because I can’t find anything beautiful in it;
there’s something about sadness
that makes the poet dream in similes
probably since it’s such a crystal-clear reflection
of what you care about.
There’s no hesitance to write about love, of course.
It’s a victory, because the sheer numbers
set the game against you; what were the odds
in millions and billions of people,
you’d find happiness in that second soul
and how could you keep that out of your poetry?
But there is nothing romantic about anger
and I cannot find a reason to detail
a soul in havoc; his or mine.

Sometimes, at the break of dawn
I contemplate where my life has gone
So many bad memories,
I'm not sure where I belong
Makes it difficult to move on.
'When did I become so withdrawn?
Is it even worth it to hang on?'

Sometimes, late at night
I contemplate suicide.
Nothing but bad dreams,
Keep me restless inside
Just a little thought in my mind:
*'What would happen to my life,
If I just left it all behind?'

Just Remember youll never see the side of me that's broken
I can promise you right now with my hands on your form of the Bible that you'll only hear of it
You'll see it in my texts or hear it in my voice
If you get lucky you'll be able to read my body language and listen hard enough to the screaming within my brain and figure out I'm in distress
But other than this I'll never let you see ime broken
I'll ask for a favor I've never cashed in because I always want nothing know return
I'll ask you to pray to your God or goddess that keeps you well in mind and ask of them to watch over me
I'll ask you to give me the space to breathe and gather my thoughts before I make a major decision
I'll begin and plead for your forgiveness once that decision has been made because
I know it was the wrong one

Just remember you'll never see me broken
But you'll always hear about it
You'll hear about the scars on my wrists or the pains in my thoughts
You'll hear about the throbbing behind my eyes and the spot where between my brow wrinkles because suddenly, it's not because of a smile
Its because of tears
Just remember you'll never see me broken
Unless you walk in on me because I forgot to lock the door
Then maybe
You'll hear what my heart and head are screaming to say

sometimes I think about what I would do if someone handed me a liquid that ended my life right away without feeling any pain or putting in any effort.
a few years ago I probably would have taken it without hesitation,
but now I would stop and think about how the sky turns pink when the sun sets in the evening.
I would think about how my dogs lick and jump when I first walk through the door after a few short hours.
I would think about how the sun reflects off the buildings in the city on a beautiful day and how good it feels to look at while drinking a cup of coffee-
I would think about how at ease we laid on the train ride home that day and how whenever we're standing under a sky full of stars we look at eachother instead of up.
life is full of little moments that set us free

*do not drink the liquid.

how many times
have you told yourself
you would be better
off this way.