have you ever believed
in something so blindly
so genuinely
that the moment you realize
it isn't true, something inside you
changes forever?
i wanna tell you a story, see
seldom do i ever
go swimming in drinks
deep enough to drown in
but when i do
i speak in tongues
about things that none
of my memories
are allowed to talk about
like that christmas
at the isthmus
where my girlfriend
plucked a conch shell
whiter than gods teeth
out of the sand
held it to her ear
and stopped time
that day she was a shade of blue
the could've made the ocean sick
see, she loved to play jokes
when she held
the sea shell to her ear
she gasped, called my name
and said "i want you to hear this"
i said "yeah, right, everybody knows it's just the same old sea"
she replied "no. not this one. this one is special. listen. theres music in this one"
she handed me the shell
like a promise she couldn't keep
and i held it to my ear
with all the potential
of seeing shore
after being stranded
at sea for years
only to hear
a tired dirge of silence
spill from its emptiness
i guess she didn't know
how desperately
i wanted to hear it too
because ever since
something inside me snapped
now sand pours out
of every post card i open
i hear seagulls
in telephone static
sometimes i have dreams
where i bury my hands
in every beach
i've ever been on
and exhume this graveyard of noise
every time i try to sleep
i spit up fishhooks
and i guess i'm obsessed
but maybe
if i hold my ear
to enough vacant things
then i could have back
the time stolen from me
since it happened
maybe they would get it
if they knew what i wanted
when i blow out birthday candles
maybe they'll find me
face down in a wishing well
i watch eternal sunshine
of the spotless mind every day
pretending i can forget too
because this sea sickness
has followed me for years
because yesterday
i walked into a music shop
and all the pianos broke
but the only thing
i can think to say is
*do you know how bad
a memory has to be
that you fantasize
about forgetting it?

Dazed, mind filled with xanax dust.
I'm questioning who I am
When I look in the mirror I do not see myself
I see a stranger
With bags under her sunken in eyes
And her eyes, they look sad
Lifeless, dead
And her body
Her body's ugly, fat, disgusting
Covered with marks, scars, burns.
But as I look at this person in the mirror
I am over came with the urge
To hurt her, to feed her pills and potions
Because some how I think I am her
I am the sad girl in the mirror with the cuts down her arms
and the bags under her eyes
I just don't want to believe it
Believe I've wasted away
To xanax dust and cuts.

I thought of falling in love and your hands trace my thoughts like every word I mutter could mean everything at that moment and I live in constant demand of your arms around my waist and your lips pressed against my neck yet I runaway every time I get close enough to feel your breath
but the further I run the closer you pull me in never letting me get far enough away to forget your name completely and my lips only know two tastes anymore and it's ***** strung with your name
while I repetitively try to wash the stain you leave behind but it only keeps growing and you're not even here, yet I can feel your hands on my skin and I'm tearing at everything, trying to break free of your arms when all I wanna do is fall into you

The snow is so gentle
The way it falls from the sky
As it hits the ground
Ever so silently
The bitter cold touch as it lands upon my skin
Is exactly how it felt to be touched by you
And along with that the snow is filled with many beauties
Just as you are
But your touch is similar to the snow, as it kisses my lips
All I feel is bitter cold
And that kind of cold I feel
when you touch me
can't be described to its full effect
It leaves me frozen
Unable to move, unable to speak
I can't breathe
I'm numb.