these ghosts I hold
they shriek, they moan
a reminder of a past
I cannot atone
I wish to one day find
peace in this violence
see the message in the static,
I'll find myself in the silence

every single day I choose life
not actively, but a small whisper
behind the static that murmurs
"You can do it for another day"

mysterious stranger clad in
white, a beautiful visage, a
tiny laugh is all she leaves
behind, and little whispers
in the static.


"Who are you?" I plead
...
"Who am I indeed?"

made of dead stars
broken dreams, and
a heart dripping with
ink black as night

you called me beautiful
and I am still reeling
because despite my
flaw stained soul
you think I'm everything

even when I feel like
nobody at all

I'm tired of worrying if
I'll eat my words one day,
say too much; love too

much

I would rather regret
what I said over what
I can no longer say

I'm an addict for love
feel the heat of a moth
growing closer to flame
my wings already kissed
by growing fire. I live for
the warmth, even as I
burn alive

empty shell filled with
butterflies, beautiful
liar; the mysterious
whisper just where
you almost couldn't
hear

hot air fills my lungs,
scream softly
"I'm just tired."