His glance meets mine from across the lively room.
We are miles apart it seems, but close together too.
Staring into his glistening eyes,
My soul is captured yet set free.
This is
Undeniably
What true love must be

I jump off of the train into the arms of the adrenaline that I crave. He is the poison that makes me feel alive. I keep jumping off of more trains, trying to catch the high. Falling into the arms of adrenaline  once again. He pulls me down and leaves me with bruised limbs. And the angel that saves me again and again  whispers soft words Into my broken mind. Her words flow as she tells me that it isn’t the adrenaline that I want most.  It’s the antidote. And I looked up poison in the dictionary and found your name. You were just another train. All you do, my darling, is cause more pain.

We played "Blackbird"  by the Beatles on the bus ride back to the hospital.

And in that moment, we were more than just "sick.

We were alive-

and maybe a bit broken.

But in that moment

In that moment we were whole again

-Erica Marie Roach

"Isn't it crazy how such emptiness can make you feel so incredibly full?" She whispered into the night. And under the street light,            
I began to notice her blue fingertips and her cracked rose lips. A porcelain doll begging to have a real smile painted across her face. I noticed how warm the air was, almost too hot to breathe. How she still decided to wear her favorite long-sleeved sweater. She always seemed to be cold, and always searched for new ways to stay warm- even if it meant hiding away in her bed for days. And in that very second, I held her cold hands and wanted to make it all better. I wanted to pick up her porcelain pieces and make her feel full again.- Erica Marie roach

I gave a reminiscent smile.
The smell of lilacs soaked up the air-
And just as I remembered spring, I remembered the girl.
The girl with the kaleidoscope soul and the warm hands.
I remembered the way she danced, carelessly
Oh, so  carelessly
Along the side of the road.
I remembered the way she constantly hummed her favorite tunes and never matched her socks.
I remembered what spring felt like on my skin
And I remembered what it felt like to be me again.

Misery was her name.
"fill the void," she prayed
she felt an emptiness in her
r i b c a g e
but her illness was never vain
perhaps, it kept her sane
the paradox of pain.
-Erica Marie Roach