all around me

the 1mages never stay the same
as soon as 1 think 1 see 1t
1t changes
a small shift
throwing my percept1on 1nto a d1zzying dance

c1rcular room
m1rrors enfolding me
1n a reflect1ve embrace

1 see myself
1n a million d1fferent places
a superf1c1al 1mage of me

the embrace of the m1rrors
turns strangling
constr1cting snapshots of my face

for air

but relief does not come

1 am encased in a million different vers1ons of myself
who am 1
I hope you know
That I'll never forget
When you said you didn't want me around
So, I distanced myself
Like you wanted,

You said it was 'odd' knowing me
You said I was a lot of things
But I'll give you your space
Because I don't think I deserve to occupy it,

And I know someone would tell you,
That you were in the wrong
But it's just my job
To grin and bear it,

And be the little girl
you want so badly to see
So I'll take a little hell
I'll live with it

Because you don't want me around,
And I just want to make you proud.
I know this is a little sloppy but I just wanted to get some sad out. God I haven't cried in so long. I think I needed it.
#s #a #d
M   oonlight in the sky and in your
O   ver the moon and heart in the
 O  pal glasses and petty
N   ightime masquerades and
L    it streets and crowded
I    nternal conversations and quiet
G    roups of crowds and fairy
H    appy faces and spread
T    onight though, all I see is the moonlight.
As long as the moon sits in the sky,
so reigns the night.
perfer it
If you turned
on your heel and
just walked away
And I'm not 'tired'
I don't 'hate you'
I just can't let
you see
        I can't             let you see
            when I                   feel like dying
    I need                         the quiet
     To fix up                             my feelings
     To stitch                              up my cuts
       To fix                            my heart
   With clear                       plastic tape
the only
way I can
ever apear
'happy' So
give me
some space
So maybe, I
won't have
to worry,
about the
“There are two types of people in the world: those who prefer to be sad among others, and those who prefer to be sad alone.”

- Nicole Krauss
#s #a #d
I distinctly remember
One day in the end of April
One minute
One second
Of laughter
And mockery
Three girls
One with scars
On her wrists
And the other two
With cheshire grins
Chanting and mocking
"Oh little girl?"
"Do you want to die?"
"Why didn't you finish the job?"
Leering smirks and wild eyes
And I
I remember
Looking at my scars
Looking at my wrists
Asking myself
If it ever ends
Or if it ever begins
And then I stood up
I stood and I looked
At the girl with scars
I took her hand
We walked away.
I wish I could have done more.
What do you believe in?
Do you believe in the sky?
Do you believe in the things that pass you by?
Do you believe the answers they tell you, when you ask 'why'?
Do you believe in truths or in lies?
Are you able to see when someone isn't fine?
Do you believe in always being right?
Never giving up when you've started a fight?
Do you believe in an all holy light?
Or rather do you believe in an never-ending night?
Do you look at the world and whisper
"Hey, this is right."
Or instead do you wish you had another life?
Do you wish you were 'nice'?
Or do you warp your sight,
And believe that everything will just be alright?
Do you work day and night
To keep your money airtight?
Or do you give and you work
For what you think is right?
Do you hate yourself because
someone with a small mind
went up and told you
the way you are wasn't fine?
Do you look in the mirror
And regret what you see?
Or do you look in the mirror
And shout
Never put yourself down because of who you are.
You are beautiful, you are unique, and you all inspire me.
A box of envelopes waits on the desk
Open and lonley,
Torn at the ends
Ripped apart in fear,
Or maybe hope,
All to get to a weathered old note.
The box is abandoned,
I guess you could say,
It's broken and empty,
made to throw away,
But there the shreds still sit,
Loved and worn,
Weathered and ripped
Letters we've loved
And letters we'll miss
Whispers of the past
Scribbled away on parchment
Inked in every color
Loved in every way,
We box them away
And then we say
That in time
We'll throw them away
But there they still sit,
There they wait
Wrinkled paper and ink stains
They wait to be held
They wait to be remembered
So they sit,
And they wait
That box of
empty envelopes
love letters
We hold onto love with an iron grip.
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