feeling to my stomach
I hate lying now

now I'm cursed
I have to keep this lie

it feels so wrong
I don't want to lie anymore

I have kissed boys

Girls

People in between

But lately I have been kissing bottles

Their lips are colder than yours

But slowly I have realized that the pounding headache when I wake is less hurtful than the shattering in my chest

Yet as these toxins rush through my veins

I can't help but miss the tracing of your fingers along my skin

Miss the numbness of the world when you lie with me

But when I wake I remember that a headache is treated with an aspirin

While heartache

Well if you have a cure for Heartache let me know

He had a crooked smile
Disfigured nose
Hair,like small grains of rice
He wore his heart on his sleeves
Literally.
Bleeding
Unevenly woven
Pieces missing

The clay model of him
Lay beside me
As I contemplated breaking him more
Like he did me
I like it that he 'feels' how I feel
Maybe this is the first step
To healing my broken feelings
©

Shreds of black hair
Lay littered beside the cesspool
Of the dried blood
The smell was filthy
Carpet stained
Broken razors lay
In a rusty plate
That was filled
With half smoked blunts
Wet ashes
Half burnt notes
Burnt matches
The small candle lit
Gloriously on
The bedside table
The only sign of life
In the small unkempt room
The remains of a depressed
Town girl,a hottie
Rumors had it
Bundled notes were found
Tucked under her three
Pound mattress
Maybe it wasn't suicide after all
But then maybe it was
©