I wrote a note today, how I felt. I was finally honest, even if only with a piece of paper. I loved that note, the comfort it gave me. It didn't cry or shame when it heard my pain. But like scars, it was visible. It could be seen. So I had to shred my honesty, piece by piece to make sure no eyes would see my insides. My words were not for anyone but myself. The graphite on my fingers is easier hidden than the blood on my skin. So tonight I wash my hands, so I can write again tomorrow.

Life hums a tune of sweet deceit.
Identity, a tender crime
Tells you falsely you are special
When truly all you have is time.

Success is stale and rarely true.
Existence never spends a care
On your final destination,
As purpose is a common prayer.

The victims of society
Avoid temptation to rebel,
As straying from the Promised Land
Will risk a trip towards doubtful hell.

Life hums a tune of sweet deceit,
The course you take you will decide.
Identity: the wisest choice,
Success in death is useless pride.

I selfishly await my own demise,
While fearing death of those who are around.
It’s only for others that the heart cries.

A cruel joke the world plays, love dies
Ensuring all the mourning heads are crowned.
I selfishly await my own demise.

People around me try to dry my eyes,
But I know tears are meant to stay. I’ve found
It’s only for others that the heart cries.

Our final dreary rest is food for flies.
As others meet that cold and final ground,
I selfishly await my own demise.

Life claims my will, in my casket it lies
With memories in which their deaths are bound.
It’s only for others that the heart cries.

No faith on which that I rely, the skies
Are holding out on heaven so profound.
I selfishly await my own demise,
It’s only for others that the heart cries.

Kiss me with your hot breath, lick me with your tongue.
Make me bite my lip, and hide the mark after you're done.
I want you in the morning, I get you every night.
Then I keep the proof of you hidden out of sight.

My ears act as bowls
For tears when I cry.
My heart turned to holes
When you wished you would die.

Trust has been tested,
Left weakened and tried.
It's earth that's eroded
By tears that I cried.

Refusing to move,
You sat in the storm.
I offered you shelter,
But you hate the warm.

With ears full of tears
I braved the rain.
For you, I was drowned
in a sea of your pain.

There is nothing like feeling
Your heart stopping beating
When it stops its breathing
And wants you to follow

If God is real I’m angry. Holy theft
Is no excuse for youthful death. I cry
And pray, but it’s too late. Until you left
I had refused the thought of heaven. I
Feel guilty for not knowing the whole truth
Of death. To wonder what is after life
Is painful when we’re stuck in naïve youth.
Our hearts and minds are stabbed by grief: a knife.
What if I had been there for your last breath?
I cry. I’ll never know, would you have smiled
To hear my voice before the calm of death?
In terms of life you were only a child.
We won’t forget, our hearts they wear your pin.
For you, I’ll be aware of what’s a sin.

You took my breath away. Hearts beat much louder without the distraction of lungs. Long and slow, and so rewarding, you showed me things from imagination. Your thrill made me dizzy, a dangerous game. You could be temporary or permanent, and it was never up to me.

I miss the way you touch my skin, the surprise of your cold setting me on fire. Your motions trace against my life, reminding me to breath. I'm consenting to loss of control, giving into impulse. I count the days since, and crave the next.

Even when the water isn't running,
I have an overwhelming urge to curl up
On the shower floor.

I'm on the ground when
You look down at me and say
"Just get up".
But I'm glued to the floor.