meet me on the edge of loneliness,
and i will push you over the edge,
into my pit of despair.

these bones trap my soul, like
a bird in a cage it longs to be set free, from
all of the pain and the misery, it
longs to soar into the sky and into the sun, to
kiss the clouds and feel the light, but yet
flesh and bone reject its request for freedom, I wonder
if it will ever escape this labyrinth of suffering.

every year, the sky weaves a blanket of snow and places it gently onto the earth, slowly
suffocating what once was alive, and
suffocating parts of me that have yet to die, I wonder,
what could possibly be left to **** in a graveyard.

your past tragedies cradle you like a child,and
i suppose that no matter how hard I try to pull you out of their arms, and into my own, you
will never be able to depart because
being wrapped in tragedies arms is what you think of as home.

you did not pour your love onto me, you
poured gasoline, and
the spark, the
beginning of something I thought would light up my life, lit
me on fire.
I am nothing but ashes now.

over time, my garden has become desolate, and
i told you that i feared for its demise, i
told you that at night i would cry, as
the petals from my flowers would fall, one by one, and
you knew, you
knew of the darkness that was consuming me, and
i thought you were the light, i
thought you were tending to my garden of loneliness, words
acting like sunshine and rain, but
you weren't, when
i thought you were digging holes to plant seeds of love, adoration,
and happiness, you
were digging graves to bury the broken parts of yourself, you
turned my garden into a graveyard and i still don't know why.

I've always known that the glass was half empty, and
not half full, you
have only ever wanted to leave me empty, abandoned
and all alone.

it's sort of funny how we convince ourselves of many things,
in order to fit into our perception of reality, like
take for example, you
this person who I thought was like the universe, so
mysterious and beautiful, so
underappreciated and ignored, so
I launched myself into your space, and
I suppose somewhere along the way, I
saw the black hole in the distance, I did yet
I chose to admire the millions of stars and the planets, thinking
that that inevitable end was oh so far, yet
I was wrong because, the thing about black holes, and
the thing about you really, is that nothing can escape them,
they consume everything no matter what, they
have no regard for beauty, no intent on doing anything I would consider to be good, but
they do not know any different, that
is what they have to do to exist, and
I just wish that you would have been the universe instead of the thing that destroys it.

I am sure that somewhere among the wilting and lonely parts of myself, somewhere
six feet deep within the graveyards of my brain, there
is something to be salvaged, something
that can grow again, something
that can save me, but
I suppose it is simply a matter of whether or not I choose to search, whether
or not I think it is worth searching, whether
or not I think that I am worth saving, and
as of right now I do not think so, but
somewhere happiness does lie, and
perhaps I will find it someday, whether
I choose to live or die.

dark clouds cover the sunshine in the dismal sky of my mind, creating
thunderstorms of sadness that spiral out of control and suddenly,
suddenly the flowers I have been trying to grow, and that
I thought would be helped by the rain regardless of its abundance,
are drowning,
they're dying from the very thing that was supposed to help them, and
I do not think they can ever be saved.

please, spare me the spoonful's of sugar you claim will make the sickening medicine, meant to heal the wounds you created, go down.
my dear,
just because you sugarcoat your words,
does not mean they taste any less bitter.

why is it only death that I desire?
why is it o n l y,
the thought of her carrying me away from this world,
this world full of emptiness and despair,
the only thing that sets my soul on fire?
please, wherever you wish to take me I do not care,
as long as it is not here, please I beg of you, take me there.

."I'm sorry I broke your heart", oh
what a silly thing to say because, you
can not break something that is already b r o k e n, perhaps
you can shatter one of the pieces, making
it harder to reassemble, but
you can not break it, you
can not break me because I am already broken beyond repair.

I'm sorry to say,
that the sadness has swallowed me.
It is truly beginning to feel like the end.

just f l o a t through my brain,
and when I am able to somehow quietly rearrange
and place them on a page,
I suppose in some w e i r d way
it makes me feel less insane,
it helps to release some of the pain
that has been t r a p p e d in a cage,
and so although what I may say
might not make sense tomorrow or today,
or may lead to your dismay,
it is what helps get me through each day,
and keeps me alive,
so even if you do not understand, what or why I write, that is okay.

I fell into the trap once again,
as I was w a n d e r i n g,
through the ill forest of your mind,
and so I will sit here quietly,
waiting for you to free me........"

I am not alive,
although I am breathing, moving, seeing, touching,
I am not alive.

I pour my sorrow into the hands of the unholy
because they make me feel less lonely,
I cling to these addictions I adore,
because I can never help but to want more.

I have become a slave to my body,
i m p r i s o n e d in this flesh longing to be free,
because on this planet there is nothing left for me.

Every minute. Every pill,
Every second, oh the thrill
of not knowing whether it is I,
or the bottle that will become empty first.

I now realize....
that there are far more graveyards, in my brain
than there are gardens.

.although my mother is not apart of my life, in my sixteen years of existence she has still managed to teach me sixteen things
.........................................................­..........................
1. When you crawl towards hope in the dark, make sure it is not the devil in disguise....oh mother dear you always seemed to dress it in the most loveliest of fabrics and the softest of silks, making it seem so desirable.....how could I have known?....
2. Never leave the dinner table until you are finished....those words seemed to speak more to the demons in my brain than to me because, every night they have their feast and they never leave until they have finished consuming e v e r y i n c h o f m y   m i n d
3. Actions speak louder than words, and mother dearest believe it or not, the marks you left on my skin and the scars on my heart have always been able to scream louder than you ever did
4. The eyes are the window to the soul and they speak their own language that often times is hard to understand.....perhaps if I were to have been able to understand the words your eyes spoke, then I would have been able to hear them say you did not love me before your mouth ever did
5. You must obey and no is not an option... I wish you never would have taught me this out of everything, for perhaps if I knew differently I would have been able to let the words slip from my mouth as his lips caressed my skin....if only he had looked into my eyes, although I am sure he would not have been able to understand what they were saying anyways
6. I am a hoarder...but instead of collecting clothing and art, I now collect my misery and regrets because its all that you left
7. Punishment must be given to those who do bad things...or perhaps its simply bad people...I mean it must be bad people or a combination of the two because you always rewarded almost everything I did with punishment....and still no matter how hard I try, nothing is good enough
8. Do not bother trying to plant flowers within the graveyards of your brain because the dead parts of you have nothing to offer...is that why you tried murdering every inch of my mind?
9. Always is valueless and forever does not exist
10. I love you is like the ocean, something so beautiful and that I rarely get to experience..... so you'd tell me you loved me and lure me into your waters but, I only ever drowned
11. By the age of eleven, unconditional love can become conditional and when you do not achieve perfection or meet certain standards...then you do not deserve love, you do not deserve anything...and no matter what, I believe I deserve nothing at all
12. Happy Birthday is said to good children who respect their mothers....thank god I have never valued the day I was born
13. God is love...but you showed me that love does not exist, so tell me how can there be a God?
14. Your body is not a temple, it is a cave.. and everyday your words sent sparks to the dynamite within me...waiting for the day where my walls would  c o l l a p s e
15.  Your addictions will lead to countless contradictions but they are the only thing that will ever love you so, hold on tightly......eventually they will carry you home
16.  Always forgive and forget...now I always tried to forgive you, always....but tell me, how can I ever forget what you have branded into my memories..?

I never knew how much I would notice the spaces you once occupied
and how you will never be there to fill them again.
Tell me, why can I still not comprehend,
what it truly means when something comes to an end?

The sky is crying tonight,
perhaps it’s tears signify it's longing for me to say goodbye.
please, give me back to the sky.

Hours filled with you,
has lead to years filled with less of me,
please, I am begging you,
just become a memory,
my darling, my dear,
you have only left me more empty.

And I suppose I still miss how we drank the moonlight,
how we never felt trapped by time
and instead banished them away, within

those moments I was hypnotized,
by the scent of your skin,
the flow of your hair,
and your eyes, yes your eyes, I

suppose in a way I was not free at all
because as your eyes greeted mine,
they captured me there,
and although I was not imprisoned by the human construct of time,
I was imprisoned by something new, something

beautiful and oh so blue,
your eyes were swallowing me,
and they trapped me in that room.

I am not the sun.
Do not misconstrue me as so.
I am not the moon, I am not the stars,
I am no where in the galaxy,
I am a flower,
wilting away in the garden of loneliness,
and you, you are the sun, the moon, and the stars,
you help me grow and make me feel warm like the sunshine should,
and captivate me and comfort my soul, like the moonlight,
and you shine brighter than all the stars.

You are like the sun up in the sky,
you hurt me when I get too close,
but I need you to survive.

But what is sadness and what is sorrow?
Do we dare to define them, or allow them to define us?
And shall we allow them to determine whether or not we see tomorrow?