When we met I built you a garden in my heart
This way I could pick you a flower every time you needed it
I sent you flowers when your bed felt too big for one
I sent you flowers when I missed your voice
I sent you flowers when your tears sung you to sleep
I sent your flowers when small things made me think of you
I picked
I picked
I picked
I picked until there was nothing left of my flowers
But the roots from which they grew

I'll be sure to send you a vase next time
Because at least you will think of me
The next time someone else sends you flowers

I'm scrambling trying to find the pieces
And I would like to say a few things
1)  I'm sorry
I start to see the fear of what made me
What made me will break me
I carry this familiarity like a knife to my skin
And I'm scrambling to fill the bleeding holes with the very things that Caused them to bleed
I am thoroughly convinced I could destroy an entire city with my hands
Which brings me to point two
2) Don't take it personally if I stay three steps away when you come close
I'm a ticking tomb in a building that starts to burn when I crumble
My mind is the building
Every story
Every window
A part of the person I used to be
3) I don't want to die
I still can't figure out if the building is the people I love
Or if it's myself
But It  burns just the same
I don't want to die

The string of you was wrapped around me so tight that I was no longer able to
feel the skin underneath it
Every time the string would come loose I would reach out and pull it closer
closer and closer and closer until my body turned purple
And when the string started to snap I found some yarn
I found some time in the silence and I spent it on one single thing; a plan
Ways to keep the string pressed against my skin and around my wrist
Yarn, tape, glue, double knots, braided string
Anything to keep you tangled around me
And when the string began wrapping around my mouth silencing me I nodded
approval
When the string found its way towards my neck I breathed through you
instead of through me
Still I watched the string come undone one thread, one laugh, one memory
one tear at a time
I reached for you as you floated away
I stood on my toes, I found a ladder
But like a balloon carried by the wind, you became smaller and smaller
And though I could still see you floating, I saw you as a
speck, one hint of yellow in the sea of blue within the clouds
And I realized as you became smaller that I had been mistaken
I held the string in my hands
And I realized your strings had never touched me, I wound them around myself
By the time I looked up at the sky again
you had already disappeared

There was once a man
Who looked at the moon and asked
"Is there anything I could ask,
that you can answer?"
There was no reply,
as expected.

The next morning, there was a dog.
The man crouched down
in front of the dog and asked
"What are you up to today?"
The dog walked past,
as expected.

In the afternoon, there was a girl.
She was sitting on a bench in the park.
The man sat beside her and asked
"Are you waiting for someone?"
She kept gazing at the sunset,
as expected.

Night falls in a pub in the city.
There's a drunken man, had many bottles.
The man approached him and asked
"Is something the matter?"
The man finally collapsed after too much drinks,
as expected.

Lastly, in a room there are antiques.
One is a mirror in an intricate frame.
The man looked at the mirror and asked
"How do you feel today?"
There was no reflection,
as expected.

Let me get one thing clear; I don't cut myself for attention.
I cut myself to release all the unspoken words that float around my head like torn up pieces of psalms in the wind
the blade is my psalm
It is the scripture I imprint on my skin
Every drop of blood is a prayer
A prayer that one day I won't find the color red, the color of my life, to be the only color that sticks around
The color I find in my sink and on my skin
It is my religion
I talk to God but he doesn't talk
The blade talks
Talks when I cant stand to look in the mirror
It talks when I stand alone in a room full of people
It talks when I can't think about anything other than my next high
It talks when I can't get out of bed on the weekends when everyone else around me can't sit still
The blade is my religion
And if this is religion maybe God doesn't exist

"Ok but can someone love me like this please."
An instagram post.
A post about the kind of love everyone hopes to have someone feel towards them.
A post that talks about how when you meet her you'll want her all to  yourself
how you love her laugh
how she'll always tell you how she is feeling even though she likes to deal with things on her own
she'll make you smile when she walks in a room.
That's *******
I loved you in a different way
A way that was too deep to ever write on instagram
A way where the beat of my heart pounded hard enough
To make me feel like it was going to break through my skin Whenever you got close enough to me for me to reach out and put My fingers on your face
My heart became my body
Pumping through every part of me
I loved you so much that I would think about your lips as i kissed my (ex) girlfriends
I loved you so much I drank until I was passed out on the sidewalk in my own **** and *****
Why?
Because  I couldn't accept the fact I will never feel you next to me
I loved you so much I ignored everyone else when they told me you would never be mine
I put my love for you ahead of the truth
I smiled when you told me you ****** someone
Because even though my heart felt like it broke more and more every time i took a breath
I wanted you to be happy and if he made you happy
I'll take the pain
I loved you so much
That I wrote your name over and over on a piece of paper until you couldnt even decipher the word I had written because it filled the entire page and more
I loved you so much that even though I still wanted to die
I regretted trying to **** myself because it meant I had to be in a mental hospital and I couldn't talk to you
I loved you so much that I would stay up a little later after you fell asleep to hear you breathing over the phone
Just so i could smile even while knowing I will never hear that same breathe next to me in bed
I loved you so much.
My love for you was not put in an instagram post
Because it was not beautiful
It was real