She used to be,
a fairy,
translucent wings,
dances with bees.
Befriending hummingbirds,
and taking sips,
from morningdew.
Fluttering,
twirling,
in the breeze,
she used,
to be,
a fairy.
Her giggles,
made flowers,
bloom,
like fields.
She had,
tea parties,
with mice,
she used,
to be,
a fairy.

My heart,
it’s broken.
I feel as though,
all the wind,
has been blown,
out of me.
Becoming empty,
and withered,
into nothing.
Won’t you,
breathe into,
me?
Please,
lend me some,
of your air.
Inflate me,
like a balloon,
and watch me float,
away.

I got,
abducted,
by aliens,
last night.
I wasn't,
exactly,
their type.
They tossed,
me back,
like a fish,
in the ocean,
tried to catch,
another.

I held on,
as you slipped,
right through,
my calloused,
fingertips.
My breath,
got caught,
in the back,
of my,
throat.
I swear,
I saw your,
reflection,
beside mine.
Instead it,
was a shadow,
tricking me,
into believing,
you’re not,
dead.
My head,
spins,
searching for,
you.
Running,
out of,
time,
or is,
the clock,
broken?

I guess,
I’m the bad guy.
Although,
I’m not,
entirely sure,
what I did wrong,
this time.
I’m being,
chastised,
like a child,
who did naughty.
I stare,
at the ground,
twiddle my thumbs,
and bite my tongue.
I’m sorry,
truly,
I apologize,
forgive me.
Is it okay,
are things alright?
Maybe,
it’s just me,
I’m the bad guy,
again this time.

I always,
appreciate,
the plants,
that bloom,
when they’re,
not supposed to.
Because against,
all odds,
they grew,
into something,
brand new.

Please,
I beg of,
thee,
bury,
me.
No,
a snorkel,
isn’t,
necessary,
I do not,
require,
to breathe,
and I forgot,
how to swim.
Bring tools,
to dig,
a hole,
deep.
****,
I broke,
a nail,
attempting,
free.
Worthless,
please,
push dirt,
over my head,
I’d much rather,
be dead.
Grant my wish,
desperately,
I’ve been,
good,
promisingly,
let me,
leave.

The moon,
she lies.
Claims to be,
made of,
cheese.
But does not,
pair well,
with wine.

I cried,
while eating,
a cheeseburger,
and no,
it didn’t,
make it,
salty.
Right after,
I realized,
they forgot,
pickles,
but I didn’t,
really have time,
to care.
Could have,
ordered,
a milkshake,
but I don’t,
feel like,
mowing,
my yard,
or talking,
to boys.
I cried,
while eating,
a cheeseburger,
but at least,
it had,
bread,
to soak up,
the tears.

I spit my tongue,
right out,
on the cold tile floor,
I couldn’t taste it.
You stared at me,
and it,
me,
it,
horrified,
practically disgusted.
“I thought,
that was gum,”
you said,
bewildered,
basically out of breath.
I would have answered,
but shrugged instead.

I spit,
my tongue,
right out,
on the,
cold tile floor,
I couldn’t taste it.
You stared at me,
and it,
me,
it,
horrified,
practically disgusted.
“I thought,
that was gum,”
you said,
bewildered,
basically,
out of breath.
I would have,
answered,
but shrugged,
instead.

My closet,
at one point,
was filled,
with,
band tshirts,
skeletons,
and the reason,
to live.
My bedroom floor,
it was littered,
with mismatched socks,
skinny jeans,
converse,
some to my knees,
and combat boots,
even though,
granddaddy was in the navy,
and visited Nagasaki.
Now I’m a hippie,
that subconsciously,
does the hair flip,
and people,
well,
they think,
I have a twitch.
Still own converse,
but I just don’t know,
how to let go,
of my past,
to tell the truth.
At least now,
I’m the reason,
to live.
My closet,
is spacious,
and it doesn’t,
have a door.
But it’s still full,
of band tshirts,
skeletons,
and the reason,
to live?
I’m on the run.

My legs,
I can’t feel them.
Dear God,
I can’t move.
The devil,
put a curse,
on me.
He cracked,
my bones,
used them,
as forks,
and spoons.
I've become,
cutlery,
for Satan,
instead.

I sit,
in a field,
of daffodils,
while you,
make wishes,
on dandelions.
Like blowing bubbles,
your dreams,
float away,
some like,
seeds,
they land,
growing roots,
to hold onto.

Hey,
I know,
it’s been,
quite some,
time.
The thing that,
seems to last,
forever,
but we don’t,
have enough,
of.
Do you,
remember,
when we,
used to dream,
of the future,
that’s become,
the present?
It may not,
be exactly,
what we,
dreamt of,
but the clouds,
still make,
shapes.
Love always,
Me.

I guess this,
isn’t to,
You.
But it,
kinda sorta,
is to,
Me,
instead.
If that even,
makes any sort,
of sense.
I just,
really wanted,
some sort,
of miracle,
to happen,
I don’t really,
know what,
that was,
or even,
wasn’t.
Maybe it’s,
nothing,
all I know,
it’s not,
something.
Farewell,
Me.

I could,
send this letter,
but you’d never read it.
Instead,
I will write it,
and sweep it,
beneath the carpet.
Maybe you know,
possibly you don’t,
I could never tell,
even if I wanted.
Why is life,
so unfair,
leaving bitterness,
on my tongue?
I desire,
to know,
the answer.
Love,
Me.

Hello again,
it’s been too long.
I apologize,
you see,
somehow I lost,
not just my words,
but also my pen.
Maybe you can,
begin to understand.
Love,
Me.

I know,
it’s been,
some time.
I just wanted,
to write,
to see how,
you’ve been.
How’s the weather,
is the sun,
shining,
and the moon,
glowing?
Have you become,
the star,
you always,
hoped for?
Maybe you,
finally learned,
how to keep,
afloat,
and your head,
out of the clouds.
I hope this letter,
finds you well,
and maybe someday,
you’ll find,
your own way,
home.
Love,
Me.

I watch you sleep,
as the sun wakes up.
You slumber,
as songbirds,
chirp themselves,
awake.
Is it odd,
if I count,
the eyelashes,
that fall on your cheek?
Wishful thinking,
for time to pause,
even just for a moment.
Love,
Me.

I had,
a dream,
last night.
I finally got,
to see,
You.
After all this time,
You asked,
“It’s me,
don’t you,
remember?”.
And no,
I did not,
remember,
You.

I,
am a demon.
I whisper,
my words,
they wrap,
themselves,
around,
your head,
and penetrate,
your ears.
They swim,
down your neck,
unable,
to escape,
out your mouth.
As they reach,
your heart,
they tighten,
they squeeze,
until color drained,
and left white,
empty.
I,
am a demon,
and you,
give me power.

𝑰‘𝒎 𝒈𝒐𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒐 𝒅𝒊𝒆.
This isn’t a game,
or just something,
to say.
𝐼 𝑎𝑚,
𝑔𝑜𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡𝑜,
𝐝𝐢𝐞.
It’s not a joke,
this isn’t,
a play,
this is,
reality.
𝐼‘𝑚 𝑑𝑦𝑖𝑛𝑔,
right in front,
of your,
eyes.
This isn’t a,
𝒍𝒊𝒆.
I’m going to,
𝐝𝐢𝐞.

I’m considered,
a dog,
chasing its,
own tail,
dim-witted,
unappreciated,
of its,
own efforts.
Probably because,
it’s going up,
an escalator,
going down,
you may,
never make it.
But for some reason,
I’m pushing on,
climbing these stairs,
that seem to be,
working full force,
against me,
but ****,
I’m going to,
make it.

I feel,
worthless,
broken,
and shattered.
My reflection,
it's blurry,
and warped,
beyond recognition.
My mouth,
tastes of,
blood,
teeth stained,
with red.
I'm a,
lost cause,
no one,
to grab,
my hand.
A joke,
made to be,
sneered at.
Like a ball-jointed,
doll,
made for,
entertainment,
and occasional,
pleasure.

Her eyes,
follow you,
across the crowd.
And you,
your curiosity,
can’t help it.
She blushes,
turns away,
didn’t see,
the glint,
in your own.
Is this,
the start,
of a cliché,
garbage,
romance?
Big brown eyes,
can only see,
what the daytime,
can’t.
Girl’s a daydreamer,
in the search,
of a night owl,
dance.

Do you know,
that fairies,
live here?
In the day,
they play,
in the leaves,
of trees.
At night,
while you dream,
they dance,
in moonlight.
They twirl,
on grass blades,
and blow bubbles,
to make morningdew.
Only few,
know that,
the fairies,
are ones,
to play tricks,
and make you sneeze,
more than one.
Do you know?

I kinda sorta,
ran,
when I wasn’t,
supposed to.
It was raining,
and the sky,
was blue.
But I ran,
until I couldn’t,
and then I skipped,
into the depths,
of redemption.
I twirled,
and danced,
with not a thing,
to hold onto.
After that,
I walked,
and then,
I simply,
fell.

My heart,
is quite,
uncomfortable,
in the pit,
of my chest.
But it also,
doesn’t quite,
fit,
in the palm,
of your hand.
Maybe if,
you squeeze,
just a bit,
you could,
shrink it.

Love is pointless,
worthless,
and cheap.
Three words,
uttered,
purchased too easily.
It's exhausting,
dangerous,
and empty.
Love hurts,
painful,
basically scalding.
It's fire,
passionate,
put out with a simple breeze.

Like a moth,
to a flame,
you draw me in,
or is it,
insane?
I burnt,
my wings,
getting too close,
to you.
Scalding myself,
from the heat,
of your chest,
I ignite within,
a new addiction,
I inhale,
and huff,
you in.
Tasting that of,
cinnamon,
and cherries,
with a knotted stem.
You grow lavender,
in the pocket,
of your,
jeans.
I doze,
into enchanted,
dreams.

I held,
my breath,
a little too long.
Cheeks turned blue,
as I started,
to float away.
The world,
faded gradually,
beneath my feet.
Was I,
dreaming?
Most likely,
just not,
breathing.

Up and down,
like a red rubber,
ball.
Yes,
you stick,
like a fly,
on the wall.
You buzz,
my ears,
and land,
on my nose.
I swat,
I zap,
but your,
persistence,
pays off.

I saw the moon,
golden through the clouds.
Reminding me,
of the time I once loved you,
and you poisoned my soul.
You drained me dry,
as I appeared a fool.

Sometimes,
all I want,
is to kick,
and scream.
Why the hell,
did you,
do this,
to me?
Other times,
I’d much rather,
pretend it,
was all,
just a,
dream.
Couldn’t I,
have just,
been asleep?
Maybe,
it was,
a sick joke,
played on me,
one not,
so funny.

I jumped,
right in,
this black hole,
of solitary,
confinement.
It’s nothing,
like the game,
of solitaire,
we’re not,
playing with,
cards here.
I held,
my breath,
and avidly,
did I,
long for,
oxygen.
I rolled,
the dice,
and begged,
please,
don’t be,
snake eyes.
Let me,
slither away,
to freedom,
and possibly,
enlightenment.
I’m not playing,
a game,
here,
I just,
forgot,
to hit,
save.

Springtime flowers,
don’t grow,
in this garden.
Not in this mess,
I must confess,
buried it deep,
inside a chest.
It’s gone now,
only haunts me,
when I sleep.
My heart aches,
such a mess,
I must confess,
it’s just,
my chest.

The world,
is silent.
But I can hear,
the gears turning,
in your empty,
dull brain.
Is this,
that wake up call,
I was,
put on hold for?
The line,
it’s a dead,
rotary phone.
It turns more,
than you.

There's a girl in the glass box,
poor little bird can't fly.
Her wings have been snipped,
bound in ribbon,
made of knives.
Girl in the glass box,
what are you doing in there?
I can see you screaming,
why can't I hear a sound?
Please, shattered doll,
don't you cry,
you're out of time.
Girl in the glass box,
who are you?
With your brown hair,
made of curls,
won't you please tell me?
Poor broken doll,
with her bruised,
bleeding porcelain skin.
Girl in the glass box,
will you let me in?

Some say,
the glass,
is half empty,
Some say,
the glass,
is half full,
I just say,
it’s broken.
Not expecting,
anything at all.
And isn’t that easy?
There’s no line,
on that imaginary glass,
waiting to be filled,
or emptied.
It’s just,
broken.
No expectations,
at all,
not waiting,
for a,
**** thing.
A broken thing,
can’t be filled,
no matter how hard,
you try,
it just makes,
a mess,
all over.
Almost like,
the thoughts,
in your,
mind.
Just make sure,
it’s not,
made of,
glass.

I like,
the way,
your eyes,
sparkle,
and I,
hang off,
the glitter,
in your words,
that you whisper,
in the air.
Is it the,
symmetry,
maybe the,
calamity?
But I could,
slide off,
commas,
dance under,
apostrophes,
and that’s just,
the beginning.
I’m starting,
to wonder,
if the dots,
to the I’s,
are just,
question marks,
to answers,
I may never,
have.
Can you blow,
smoke rings,
like sentences,
and put me,
together,
somehow?

It was easier,
so much,
easier,
to not,
see,
your face,
when I hugged,
you tight,
so tight,
to say,
goodbye,
in my,
heart.
And I know,
you don’t,
realize,
that each time,
I expect,
your lips,
to press,
against,
mine.
But I must,
say so long,
in not,
just my,
heart,
but also,
my mind.
And yes,
it’s hard,
because you,
mustn’t truly,
know,
the torment,
I’m putting,
myself through,
because I,
have fallen,
deeply,
behind.
How grateful,
I am,
to the half moon,
tonight,
when I,
said my own,
goodbyes.

Drowning,
in an empty,
man-made lake.
Choking,
on an object,
never meant,
to be swallowed.
Dancing,
with broken ankles,
tears fall,
I am constructed,
to be beautiful.
Breathing,
with lungs deflated,
like dull,
birthday balloons.
Yet you,
expect me,
to be,
cheerful?
That is nothing,
but another,
hallucination.

This love,
melts,
like hard candy,
on the pavement,
in warm sunshine.
And would you,
call it,
sin,
if I watch,
you slumber,
as the morning,
rolls in?
Holding my,
breath,
your scent,
makes me,
spin.
Intoxicated,
only in,
your,
presence.
You are,
sour,
yet,
too sweet,
leaving,
heat,
dancing among,
my tastebuds.
I could,
swallow,
someone,
like you,
whole.
Instead,
I’ll let,
you linger,
a little,
while,
longer.

Do you ever feel,
that you’re going through life,
like a story in a book?
You keep turning the pages,
appearing to be empty,
they’re filled to the brim.
With not just words,
but wishes,
you just aren’t able,
to read them.

Do you think,
you could hear me?
If only,
I screamed just,
a tiny bit,
louder.
Muffled under this,
pillow,
of solitary,
confinement.
I’m simply,
suffocating,
in this room,
muddled in,
silence.
Am I allowed,
to run?
Escape this,
nightmare,
of breathless,
disenchantments?
I’ll scream just,
a tiny bit,
louder.

I know,
you’re here,
when the scent,
of roses,
in bloom,
waft into,
the room.
Yes,
you’re here,
when the radio,
plays the song,
that answers,
what I need,
so badly,
to know.
You’re here,
when the clock,
chimes,
at the wrong time,
and the sun,
peeks through,
the blinds.
You are here,
when the birds chirp,
and the rain falls,
just like my tears,
when you’re not.
I know,
you’re here,
even if,
I don’t.

You told me,
don’t let go,
even when,
you’re dead.
Then you,
unlocked,
our fingers,
like taking,
one last breath.
You’re not dead,
just a reflection,
in a smudged mirror,
cracked far beyond,
repair.
I won’t let go,
but not because,
you told me so.
I’ll turn my,
back to the,
past.
In the sky,
look for me,
this time.
I’m the one,
holding on,
to the clouds.

I used to,
beg to be,
different.
Longed for,
oddity,
uniqueness.
Now I’m craving,
normality,
familiar,
experiences.
God is mocking me,
finally granting,
my wishes.
While also,
divulging in my,
desires.
It’s not,
fair,
I no longer,
yearn to,
disappear.
But there seems,
to be a,
delay in,
messages.
I prayed,
at the wrong,
time,
and now,
I’ve forgotten,
how to say,
amen.
Can someone,
pay the toll,
I’m losing,
my way,
home.

My feelings,
are hurt.
And I don’t,
know,
if that’s,
your fault,
or,
mine.