Girl, I love those scars
that branch up and down your arms.
Girl, I see those eyes
that stare daggers and stare knives.

I'll get you to feel again
when you see my fake smile.

I'll get you alive again
at least for a little while.

But at the end of the day
once I've had my way,
I'll leave you just like the last
guy from your horrid past.

Because I don't want to insist,
but I don't care for your happiness.
Because you can't forget once you've learned this,
I only want my name bleeding from your wrist.

I only want to be another tally mark
of scar tissue on your thigh.

I only want to leave you in the dark
and listen to you silently cry.

Loving you was like jumping off the stool to hang yourself, just to find that once both feet are in the air, the rope has disappeared.

Why do the most truthfully heartfelt
statements begin with, "I know it's silly, but..."

No. Stomach your apologies so that
the rest of you won't remain
undiscovered. You're a map made of
resignation
with feelings about yourself more
tangled than yarn woven in and around
all your bones.

I want to make brutal honesty the new
fad. Have everyone fall in love with boldness
in words
so that it becomes
therapeutic to hand out paper keys during
conversations
to unlock someone's heart.

Scream out at the top of your lungs,
I WAS A FAKER TILL NOW
and smile
because you know you've never spoken
truer words
and because
nobody knows it.

Honesty has now become your
secret, and it will be the lightest
load you've ever had to bare.

My mind never intends to write
Yet my heart bleeds poetry,
The naked dark secrets,
Spilled all over the blank page
For the world to judge and see
My mouth never speaks
But words on my tongue
Long for the day
They get to taste
The voice of your lips


My mind never intends to love
Yet my heart gives it to you
As if they are the left over pennies
The world no longer has anything
To give In exchange for.
My mouth never complains
But my love is getting wary
Of being the love who loves
But is never loved back.

My mind never intends to confess
My love so profusely
Yet my heart does it so often
If people could hear wind talk
The whole world would know about our story
A story never ends
It just gets abandoned
The author finds another muse
But you shall always be
My favorite unfinished draft

i would say i felt in my soul
your words like a loaded gun
but i am a ginger..i don't have one

Your words are dull knives
With a tendency to leave a bruise
Who taught you to speak bullets
Without considering the exit wound?
Are we simply soldiers
Marching in fields of decaying youth
Or are we stars, burning out,
Supernovas of mistaken truths?

We will drown in the rain, the waves, trembling under the thunderous voices of those who oppose us. We are more than flesh and blood, we are stardust.