I can’t gurgle out a love filled poem today,
even though so many of you have been dedicating work to Valentines Day all week.
All I’ve been thinking is;
almost everyday I write a poem
for the girl I love with every inch of myself,
and she doesn’t even seem to know it’s her my words come to life for.
So today I take a stand,
‘cause who writes love poems
for the poets?

I can no longer paint pictures
my hands are trembling and broken,
even though I arranged directions in the fixtures,
you know there’s much I’ve never truly spoken.
I created a simple scavenger hunt
and drew out a map to my only treasure,
my clues are obvious but clearly not blunt,
but what I have cannot be weighed nor can it be measured.

You should know me well enough
to know there’s nothing you can’t say,
go on and call my bluff,
I’ll remain feeling this way.
Kiss me gently or slap my face
give me breath or finish me,
stay connected or disappear without a trace,
I’ll still love you unconditionally.

I’ve never been one to give a speech;
words have weight and I hate my voice,
but with time and support it’s not impossible to teach
where there’s a will, there’s a way and a choice.
It feels like I’ve made it easy to see
I can’t help it, it’s plain as day,
‘cause even as I’m locked; you’ve got the key,
and your lips can read mine for what I don’t say.

I’ll never forget the smile on your face
when our lips slowly first met,
the skin that my fingers ache to trace,
a face that even death could not make me forget.
Burn my skin and scrub me raw,
or lovingly bathe me in the sea,
you can part the rules and break each law,
but I’ll still love you unconditionally.

I believe you can pull the stars
straight down from the skies,
cause I see past all your scars
and see them twinkle in your eyes.
I know everyone has their role
and everything is a two way street,
but Darling if I’m going to bare my soul,
it’s only fair that you show your feet.

Im not suicidal
I just dont want to be alive
     like I dont look both ways before
             crossing the street
     like I dont check how many pills Im supposed
             to take and hope I take too many
     like I cut food with the knife facing me
     like I play with fire and
             I run with scissors
because I still have a little
hope left
but no desire to stay alive

Nights flies, and old story lies.

sometimes i look at suicide notes as inspiration  
and anorexia stories as instructions
but ...no don't worry
I'm just sad
i love true crime, Corpse Bride, sad poems, and dead flowers
but ... don't worry
I'm just happy
i stuff my true feelings, thoughts,and desires till it crushes me
but dont worry.....
I just love you

I want a glass of bubbles
To warm my icy throat
And thaw my tongue,
Which always seems to be too frozen
To say anything right.
And I want to chase the fire down
With your kisses.
I want my heart to slow down,
Just a little,
Enough to keep in time with my
Lazy thoughts of you.

I want to hear your voice
Like a velvet dress,
Clinging to my body
In whispers of never letting go.
And I want to feel cold again
While you go out for a smoke.

And I just want to watch you
As you tug on those **** sticks,
Looking like a kind of mystery
I could ponder over for years.

I want to watch the smoke come off your lips,
I think I’m learning to like the smell
Of your smoky clothes.
And suddenly I’m as addicted to you,
As you are to them.
And I’m jealous
Because I want to be your addiction
And suddenly I’m like a cigarette
And that’s weird.

Know yourself
nothing is deeper.

Better yourself
nothing is better.