do you ever find it beautiful
how we all
find the strength
to connect
through our inevitable sadness?
if sadness cannot be beautiful
then what are we creating,
by drawing in all together,
to connect and to share
life's despair?

you changed
everything
for me
of what i knew
or thought i knew
of love
you redefined
you shaped
you molded
as if i was flat clay
which had no form
you formed me
bit by bit
slowly, gently
you smoothed out
my rough edges
you made me
a whole piece
with you,
or on my own
you changed
everything
everything
that i knew
of love

that indication should have been enough
for me to know not to get involved
you said you are leaving if i ever cut
i've already been through this before
i've played this same ******* game
the overwhelming fear attached to it
if i happen to lose control one night
and the next morning,
you are gone from my sight

because who would ever love a girl who cuts herself?

i want people to love me
but i don't want to have to be dead

everything is nothing when you are not existing

the type of love where i catch you staring at me. longingly. admiringly. the type of love i can feel, not only hear. 
the type of love where i look over at you. my eyes become fixated. locked. my heart becomes warm. full. the type of love where i look at you. and i love you. i simply. i love you. 
you meet my glance. with no words. you love me back. you love me back. you don’t even need to say.

i find it ironic and funny
how you accuse me
of not caring
about you
because when
have you ever cared about me?

if i could reach inside of you and pull out all of your sadness,
every last coiling thread until there was none left,
believe me, i would
but i'm too entangled within my own
and i don't want to infest you any more with the terror and horror of this disease that lies deep inside us each

wishing
for you and us
is probably
the stupidest thing
that i have ever done

do you wanna lose our heads tonight?
we can regret it in the morning
but that's the morning and this is right now
and it is dark and beautiful and you're smiling
and all i would rather do right now is put my hand on your knee and finish these drinks
yeah we can slip under the covers and be consumed by the warmth
and if it is okay can i hold your hand until the sun comes up?
can i brush up against your skin so mine isn't alone for once?
can i pretend for just tonight your body is mine and mine yours?
let's lose our heads tonight
you and i

old pictures remind me
that good once existed
that people once existed
who don't exist anymore
who are now ghosts
at the touch of my fingertips
old pictures remind me
that i was once me
and you were once you

lately i have been drunk on love
and oh my god
i never want you to become the alcohol which eventually wears off
keep me intoxicated, from here and always
keep me so drunk that i learn to become happy

and we think that we love each other
but we don't
and this is the most heartbreaking part

no love where there is no life
no soul where there is no heart
no compassion where there is no passion
no empathy where there is no sympathy

if people were love notes
none of us would be lonely anymore
if people bled passion
we would laugh at heartache

you're alive but you're a ghost
because you're in my head
but i don't see you anymore

there have been different versions of you
with each and every person,
that you have melded in with your life
different parts you let out, different parts you hide
for the right person, the right soul
yet none completely resonate with your own

there are different versions of you
which one is the one - that is you?
the one when you are human, and raw
and alone
the one you speak to
most true, unafraid

we think we need people
but which one is you -
truly you?
in your solitude -
isn't that where you find
the best version of you?

i wrote until my fingers bled
and even then,
things still didn't make sense

and when you said goodbye
it felt like the entire world had died

i am a concave of pain
circling, and never ending
connecting to be whole
yet i never seem to escape
this emptiness in which i am caged

breathe deep
knee-high kick me
rattle my bones
swell my skin
let blood drip
bury me into concrete
to see if i can still feel
to see if i am still alive
destroy me
beat me
let's see
let's see ....
is there a heart still beating?

poetry,
thank you
for saving my life

i loved you
because you loved me
but that isn't even
all of it
you were so special to me
you were, you were
i'm not sure why
but you were

she is so beautiful
and she is so beautiful with words
her delicate fingers
and her ever-colorful eyes
deep and resounding,
people watching
taking in the details
that pass by everyone else
in the streets, lost among the crowds
and yet she sees

she is so beautiful
her face, her mind
her bravery, her insight
her soul
oh her soul

i told her that she is a rarity
she kept bitterly smiling
like she knew
that she was an outsider
to a world so cruel

keep ******* with my mind
i hope it rots you out from the inside
that is, if you have any shred of humanity left inside of that box you live in
keep playing the selfless and innocent roadside victim
your clean and pure palms are so deceiving when you hold out your hands
only i can see the dirt which lies underneath your fingernails
choking, and seething, lying
and you thought you could be my puppet master as my blood drips down the strings
i ruined the play that you tried to create
so wash your hands, and start all over again with a new and false pretty face

he really is mean, you know
really, truly mean
and i know
yes, i know
so why do you keep sleeping in his bed?
it makes no difference
and you, you know this
you are not a person
you are hardly a body
he is so mean
and you fall asleep crying
(you've been crying every day)
but i, i love him, you know
and yet tell me this -
is this love you harbor
worth all of this ache?
this ache you can't escape
you know how to though
but you wait
you wait and wait
purely in vain
but i love him
and he loves me
but he is so, so mean

i'm having a break down in your bed
soaking up the sheets wet
with tears that burn at each and every lying word you spoke
you said you'd be here, well - then why am i alone?
i called you on your phone
you asked, why are you crying? quit sniffling, quit being sad!
(if it was that easy - believe me)
i couldn't tell you that i needed you
that lately my dark thoughts are becoming too strong
you asked me why i want to talk to you all of the time
and there was such irritation and anger laced within your voice
i choked back even more and whispered, i'm sorry, i'm sorry
ended the call that i knew you wouldn't return

i'm having a break down in your bed
wishing that i was dead
if you could please save me, before then?
but you have already left
and it is so selfish of me to ask
and i feel that it would be beautiful
to be needed like that
but i have never been needed,
i am always the needy
and i can keep saying sorry
but that doesn't change this urging feeling
that i need, i need - somebody

happiness is so fleeting
i wish you weren't so quick on your feet to get away from me

so here i find myself, sitting alone at the bar again
when i should have gone home, into your arms, into your bed

the only issue
to being highly perceptive to pain
is being perceptive to everyone else's

because i didn't want to leave her by herself
maybe it's because i felt sorry for her
it was sad, in a sweet and distant way
her always looking so out of place among the crowd
a face you cannot read, but i can see she's ready to break
tight lips and perfect makeup adorning her eyes to hide ...
hide ...
i guess i wanted to show her that she didn't need to hide from me
like the leaves falling at our feet,
i wanted to catch her before she breaks

i don't have anyone
i have nothing, and i am no one
i have no face
i possess no voice
i feel the silence that is so unsettling
yet comforting
i am alone and there is no door
i sit and disintegrate
until i return to the earth as my bones

n o
o n e
i s
p e r f e c t

y e t
y o u
a r e

m y
v e r s i o n
o f
p e r f e c t

o n l y
*y o u

sometimes i hate being a poet, because i write about everyone but no one writes about me. i am the one spilling my heart out with ink; suffering, quietly, crying, and aching. why does my mind feel the need to empty itself and write? my words don't always heal this ache, they just make my chest bleed even more. why can't i be an empty person, who can let go and doesn't let their fingers fly with passion and remorse and spite? sometimes i hate being a writer, because all of these cries feel futile, they just keep reminding me that no one is listening to me.

i have never felt so terrible
i have never been an option
it's either me, or a bottle
and you choose the bottle
every time
every single time
your addiction does not love you
not like i do
yet you cannot see
you never listen
you are drowning, lost and gone
i can't help holding on
i can't keep hurting myself
along the razor edges of your broken bottles
as broken as you are
so i only wish, for you to take of yourself
i cannot keep watching you **** yourself

she wrote
so dark
there was
never any
light
between her
lines

he wrote
so sad
there was
never any
life
between his
lines

she wrote
one last time

he wrote
of suicide

i feel as if happiness should come easier than this
so light, and welcoming
not so tiring, and trying
like having to train myself to accept the good thoughts
it shouldn't be this hard
i shouldn't have to swallow pills
to make all of the violence in my head stop
happiness is a choice they say, well -
it has never felt like one to me
it's a chore, a task, one i am uncertain i will ever complete
it is so fleeting

i need to sleep this sadness away
like a bad drug that i can't escape when i'm awake
hoping that the effects will wear off and i can forget
but i can never forget

i like you more when you are sober
yeah, you're so much better
i like you more when you are you
that's the one i love and choose

why do i continue writing when absolutely no one is listening to me?

i sailed my heart away from your violent waves
never again will i be pulled under the currents which you cannot face
i sailed for so long until i reached the shore
you became my sad and lost gone love, nothing more

so if they come looking for my body
don't tell them where i hid it
and if they ask where i was last seen
don't tell them it was by the river
and if they ask what happened
tell them that it never even mattered

sometimes writing about it just makes the emotions even worse.

and i'm tearing out my insides to give you space
you've made me so empty but it's all okay
because you simply being happy is all that really mattered to me
and you wanted me gone, i couldn't play the part you wanted me to play
i failed as i seem to do with everything
you're in a better place now, away from what was once me
we said our sullen goodbyes and you turned without looking back once
your back was so bright, and full of light
i gravitated all of the dark towards myself
and it didn't matter, because i loved you more than i have ever loved myself
and if you're happy now, then don't ever look back
i will still be standing there
decaying, rotting flesh
i am no longer beautiful and you are so wonderful
so don't let me taint you, again
you paved life, and you deserve to remain there
while i wither
i wither and die

i'm so tired of sticking around, hoping that someone eventually will care
it's a sick twisted cage feeding off whatever i have left to offer
this end has an end, it always has
it has never been so clear to me before now

i would walk in the snow and cold, just to see you smile, to absorb some of your warmth,
but you would slam the door in my face and tell me to go home

i still remember the day where you asked me to please not **** myself
we were sitting on that couch you no longer have now
and just so you know,
those words meant everything to me and so much more

the way i saw you smile
when i told you that i love you
and you didn't say it back
but it was just the way that you smiled
that meant so much more than that

when this is all i have left
some paper and a pen
to sort through what's going on in my head
i have a voice that doesn't know how to act
how to be loud, only in this silence
and i'm writing to you to tell you
just how much you mean to me
because you no longer like to hear me speak
so this is all i have left
just some paper and a pen
spilling words until everything can make sense again

you slipped your heart into my pocket and told me to keep it
you told me as long as i have it, you don't need it
i kept it as safe as i could, though i am sorry for the days where i forgot that i had it
you asked for it back one day, as hard as it was to comply
it was already in pieces so i kept one sliver in my pocket, for you and i
so that i could never forget again