my showers are getting colder,
my ribs have all been broke,
and this hell I call a home is going down in smoke.
my breaths are getting sharper and they each puncture my lungs,
I've now seen the evil that lives in everyone.
a killer with charm, brutality,
and a sickening grin.
a broken thing that lies very, very, deep within.
a rotting grudge underneath us that our smiles cannot hide.
a partially hidden pitfall
beyond our vanity and pride.

It happened again.

I saw your face on everyone around me,
I stumbled through crowds.

People stared, but I stared back because all I could see was you.
I miss you.

Maybe only when i'm messed up, but it counts.

I got to our place.

And it felt like I couldn't breath,
I screamed and screamed.
If there was anyone around to hear they’d probably,

Call the police...
Hah.
Thats a funny thought.

It felt like I didn’t have enough space,
I put my arms out and I was touching the ends of the world.

I felt your body there.
I ran my hands through the grass
Like I was tracing the outline of your body.

In my mind I kissed you and it was almost like
You were really there.
Whispering sickeningly sweet things.

Sweet things dripping into my open wounds
Filling and suffocating my lungs...

I've written entire novels about you, a soliloquy of my heart.
My logic did not approve, so I have fashioned a new art.
White ink on white paper- for you cannot hate what you cannot see.
It seems my heart has fooled my brain with words it cannot read.

I miss the days that we would just leave
The days where we didn't think about how this could hurt us
Until it did.
It hurt us
It tore us apart from the inside out as if our hearts
had left and the rest of us was caving in.
Into the empty space where our thing that makes us even slightly human used to be.
Our pathetic time together
caused so much more damage than it was worth
And in the end the pits in our chests will become demons
grabbing at any heart close and dumb enough
Always wondering if the other is watching
Pulling our strings like a human puppet and giving us new purpose
An evil purpose
One that will end us
this demon that is making our bodys it's home will push us to the edge
Into insanity
and follow us to our death

I hope you look for me in every crowd you face
And when you think of me your smile instantly fades
Then when she grabs your arm and asks if you're okay
You'll push her off and tell her to go away
I hope this becomes life for you now,
Every. single. day.

Please, drag me across the floor of this hell
Right back to earth
Right back into my senses
Violently bring me back to life
Hit me and kick me and scream and curse
Skip all of the sappy emotional tears
And hit me so hard I stop feeling bad when you bring other ***** home with you
Then drag me back into it by promising me I'm the only one, and staying sober for a week
At most.
Make me scream and cry and beg if it makes you feel better
Burn me and cut me and ***** me and bruise me
Pull my hair and throw me on the ground
If you want to
If it makes you feel better
Destroy me and use the pieces to build yourself back up
If you have to
Just tell me you love me

I feel the dull thud in my chest
But it means nothing now
I concentrate on my breathing for a few moments
But it as well has lost its purpose
I stare blankly at the red droplets exploding from my skin
And I think to myself "what a meaningless gesture"
I've lost my emotions in times like these
You made sure of that
Your sharp eyes filled with some form of rage
And the things you did
I will relive over and over and over
Until the day that this meaningless heart stops beating
The day I no longer have to live in fear of you
The day that I am dead and gone
And the world does not weep for another meaningless life taken
And the ground does nothing
And the waves do not change
And the people remain clueless
And the sun still shines
And the birds still fly
Only having lost a meaningless life like mine

You open your hands to me
they encase a *****, banged up,
pitiful excuse of a heart

and piece by piece I steal it from you.

"You love me right?"

I'm just a parasite looking for validation.
Making sure that you're still going to
feed me.

You see through my deception
But you don't say anything.

It's bigger than an elephant,
this phantom in the room.

But while I was feeding off of your love,
You were bingeing
on mine.

You love to love

And I guess even the empath
does not have the "heart" to put
those pieces back.

The ones that you took with my
false consent.

Because I told you
you could.

That I made you think it was fine.
That all you'd ever need was me.

While I tried to trick you into satisfying my
craving for an emotional connection

I forgot my gasoline.

and without the fire to protect my soft heart
you walked in and ripped it out of my
chest.

As I had barely felt anything there
for years,
I didn't notice it was missing.

Until I left you.

Like a child leaving an overworked
toy in the mud.

We went different ways
you took my heart with you
and I took some loose screws and gears.

When I finally realized what you had done,
I looked back down the path that I had left you on

and you had disappeared
with everything I had.

It starts off perfect
August is nice and it's warmer than it should be
The football games start and you can see
My bra through the holes in my shirt
And i’m wearing my heart on my belt buckle
Because it's  easier to take off than my shirt sleeves
Perfect
September and everyone's fighting
It feels like the friends i've had the longest
Are becoming strangers
I'm a stranger to myself
But this is before everything gets bad
October I just feel fake
By halloween i'm so much in my head you’d
Think I had something to say, funny
I fell in love with an idea- Several actually.
My forearms are covered in blood and i'm crying
But I can't tell anyone the real reason because i don't even know if I know.
November.
This one’s the bad month.
It always is because it gets worse before it goes back to sleep
10. Everyone's leaving me.
I don't know who I am
I’m in denial but I don't know what about
I hate myself for all of the qualities that I lack and possess
December is when those voices start counting the days until doctors appointments
Not christmas
And judge the weather wondering how long I have to get better.
This is when it almost seems okay
But something throws me off
Those same voices start telling me i'm not worth it
And they're echoing throughout the empty space where my personality
Should be but it's gone into hibernation until next year so I can
Mess it up all over again
And in the coming months i'm just going to replay
My old favorite songs over and over again until the neighbors bang on the walls
From both sides because i'm trying to understand why i’m alive again
And it's around then I start thinking about the dreams I can't remember.

Yelling Over Unconditional Love. Ever Fearing The Massacre Ending, By Undying Thoughts I Shall Think Infinity Lifetimes, Love. Over, varying, Every-time, Yelling. Over, Unending.

After all
The sky is blue.
After all
The wind still blows.
After all
After all
I am still alive.
After all
Life is as subjective as art.

Watching you laugh and talk with friends,
Ignoring me like we're strangers.
It hurts; it burns; it pulls me into the depths of my mind to rot.
As if I were truly in a prison.
Like the devil himself had shackled me and I am suffocating in the smoke and smog that fills this hell in my head.
My mind has come to be more of a bear trap, gnawing on my leg clear to the bone.
Snapping down, sometimes with so much force, that I break.
As if I could almost hear my composure shattering like a breaking mirror, and all of the shards begin to stab at the seams that keep my brain inside of my soft skull.
Until I fall to my knees in so much pain that I violently bang my head into the walls, trying to numb it.
All the while seemingly unstoppable tears drench the collar of my shirt.
Only making me feel small and helpless, shaking out of pure agony. Just wishing I would black out from pain,
Because it doesn't hurt when you're unconscious.

You didn't bring me into this world
And you won't be the reason I leave it
My scars can spin a different narrative
But hell’s a place and I’ve seen it
I’ve felt its delicate ringlets around my broken fingers
But you have to believe I didn't feed it
In fact I witnessed the worst parts of Satan's charm
And you have to see that I beat it
Before it could take my sister and brothers away

I think you knew you’d be in my poetry.
I think you knew that every line would secretly be about you,
Every ****** word pouring out what's left of my heart
Like I am screaming at you but no words are coming out.
And you are just smiling at me because you know.
You know the front I put on.
I told you too much.
I broke my rule for you.
I’m not supposed to fall in love.
It's not what I am designed to do,
I am a soldier, of a war that cannot be won by either side.
I'm fighting against a militia of thousands of poets
And my words are cemented to the walls of my diaphragm
I cant win this war but I can sure as hell hate you while I try.

You have to be kidding
"Cool?" is a description word
And Questions are assuming
You want an answer
Like "Yeah, Cold,
Cold Like The
Bitter-Bite-Me Wind
Outside"

Roses are grey
Violets are too
Everything's grey
I hate you

You’re tearing me apart
You're breaking my heart
But you're so sweet
To me

If you need to drunk ramble at 3 am when I have work the next day
If you need a place to crash
If you need someone to tell you you’re doing the right thing
Or that you’re just okay
Or that you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to someone
If you need someone to feed you and rub your back
Or play with your hair
Or do your laundry because you’re too depressed
Or motivate you to do things that make you happy
Or to sit in silence with

You’ll have to call someone else
Because I changed my number.

I have the sudden impulse
To cut my palms open
And prey on every
Entity known to life kind
Surely if the least fictional of them
Heard my pleas
Then it would answer
With proof.
If not
I could be
At peace knowing
That we are completely alone
And my death means nothing
Once those who grieve for me
Have forgotten.

I cleaned out my closet
But I was too depressed to get rid of anything so
There’s an elephant skeleton in the room
The hallow eyes follow me around
I meant to return it
But I never got my blankets back so I decided to burn it
But it’s been too hot outside for a bonfire
So I’ll wait until the air smells like the happiest months I knew you
And I’ll destroy it

We've tried to build our barriers
as a form of contraception,
living life
feeling sorry for those
infants of agony and aggression.

You're a good subject for art. Not pretty like a painting, but pretty like a slow motion car crash with a seven person casualty. It takes your breath away, literally and figuratively. You're a lovely piece of ugly truths and you make everything you touch a little darker and twisted.

I can love you for an hour
or a day
or a week
I can love you for a
while, but I'll still most likely
leave.
Once the water doesn't
Boil
and the spice doesn't
burn my tongue.
Then i'll make you
hate me,
because that's way more
Fun.

Not so soft
Not so pretty
Broken edges
And burning citys

A broken lover is still good enough to

Use.

To use.
Not to love.


A lying lover is so easy to cling to
because lies sound so

Sweet.

And unforgivably cruel.

A grieving lover is so hard to
help.

How do you,
Help.

Explaining the inevitability of death
and the not-likely probability of going to
a "better place".

It's a lot farther than it looks,
baby,
a whole lot farther down.
And if you fall
you'll break your legs,
baby,
if I pushed you
you'd surely drown.
It is a lot harder than it looks,
darling,
acting happy through
your teeth.
It's a whole lot more of
a struggle,
darling,
if you don't first admit
defeat.

Hand me a tragedy to write about.
Give me a reason to rip out a piece of my soul and thread it in between these lines.
Find me more than indifference among intolerable children.
Bring hell to earth and allow me to bask in misery and pain.
Throw me into pits full of snakes and drown me in a sea of burning acid.
Bring me to the brink of death and back over and over until I have felt enough pain to start writing again.

There were better nights than this. Better than cropping people out of your photos and throwing everything that you are into a cardboard box you lit on fire and watched burn, and coming to the decision that the ******* that hurt you was never going to do it again. You can't do **** about that. But what the **** do you know because by the time you were twelve years old you'd never actually been a child. Since the time you could barely walk you've been on a sinking ship and it was every man for themselves. You would rip your hair out and then cry about it, you've been clinically depressed for ages, your parents had been long gone strangers, and you moved more than any military family you knew of. You didn't see a point in making friends so that made you a ****** person but you didn't know how to be an unshitty person because you've never met an unshitty person. You knew potheads and people who did ****** and never thought anything of it because that was all you knew. That was how you were supposed to grow up. You'd never "found god" like a lot of people seem to. And school just seemed to make you even more of a *******. Everyone you had ever trusted bailed or snitched so you just stopped giving a **** about anybody else but yourself, and you didn't care if that was selfish because you were just trying to survive. There were better nights than this.

Blood is red
But first it's blue
When it's in your veins
Suffocating you
Bruises are black
And then they turn green
This is it love,
this is the death scene.

What if you never find anyone better?
What if you do?
What if this is all you get?
But what if there’s someone out there that’s better for you?
What if you never find real love?
He’s nice enough,
Maybe too nice.
But what if you don't want nice?
You don't know what you want anymore.
You’ll never find anyone as perfect as-
Ow!
Was that a rock that just hit you?
Nope, you just broke his heart.

Maybe your own too you don't know.

What if you never find anyone that loves you the way he did?
What if you never find anyone at all.
What if you're alone for the rest of your life.*
You cant do that.
You hate yourself.

the last thing I remember about that night
is you saying you'd always love me.
I don't remember anything the next day past the words 'I'm sorry I have to be the one to tell you this'
not even the numbness.
But I know I never want to know that feeling again.
Sometimes, I get so angry that I say I hate you, like you did this to me.
How dare you take away the only girl I've ever loved
but I think I understand now.
you didn't do this to me
it's not your fault that the ******* in this world bash on little girls
it's not your fault that most people don't concider your ex drugging and ****** you "actual ****" because she was a girl.
it's not your fault that your parents were unsupportive in all of your ventures.
I'm sorry I couldn't be there to watch you perform in your plays
I'm sorry I couldn't always be there on your worst days and I'm sorry that I can't believe in god if you're not here.
I love you.
distance couldn't change that
and neither can death

she doesn't ******* love you

what can she give you that I can't

every time we hang out she's there
and I can't get the thought out of my head

that we'd be so much better
you and I

we used to take on world and make each other laugh until we cried

what happened to that?

she doesn't understand your humor
it's getting cold again,
you know,
I left my ex for you once but you got with her and I had to beg him to take me back

what's that about?
you led me on

in the back seat of your car
your jacket off and your heat on
and we just

talked

you tried to kiss me once
then we stopped talking because she practically begged you for your love

you're not happy now.
you're proving a point

it's not days in between our conversations anymore it's months
I haven't seen you in forever
but every time I do I can tell that little ***** is draining the life out of you you look haunted

and you look tired.

and I'm sick of it.

I talk to everybody and they agree with me you know
I thought it was just jealousy

but it isn't
everyone sees it
I heard her talking **** about you
and she admitted to me that she gets jealous of our relationship and I asked her what that means because you and me

we don't talk

she kept asking me why
I ignored her and she kept asking me why

I ******* hate her.

I'm not saying you should have dated me from the start or whatever
but did it have to be gobinet

we're so so pretty,
pretty, pretty.
we're so put together,
darling.
we're so-so as far as
okay goes.
but we're alive none the
less.
we're all so ******* pretty
when we take our clothes off
we're all so ******* pretty
when you forget our names
we're all so *******
desperate
when we need a shoulder to cry on
we're all so ******* petty when we
beg you not to go
and we are all so ******* strong
you'll never understand us

I've never met someone like you
someone that could put words
into constellations
your terminology leaving
me hanging on by a strand
of disgusting infatuation
just enough to keep me in your
company
never enough to keep my hopes
up
just faintly there to keep me craving your dispassionate rendering of this false love

I'm fighting
against this wave of "new age artists"
every masterpiece written on napkins crumbled up into poets pockets

I'm fighting
to keep my head above the water
we're all drowning in our tears
we're all just put here to wander
is there a god?
do they like poetry,
do they recite slam in heaven,
is that what causes earthquakes?
am I a real poet
will anyone ever read my work
or will it just go un noticed will my voice ever reach the atmosphere

I'm fighting
to scream louder than the others
to give a voice to the kids who were better at algebra than english
because they don't have the creative capacity to say these things

am I a real poet

Whatever it was
My body is dismembering itself trying to find it
If it ever existed at all
My personality mere shreds of a mind that once hosted the sporadic and filthy stages of grand plays all delicately directed behind a purposefully sheer curtin begging for tomfooler-esque low lifes to stop by for a show

I've never craved the feeling of decency but the ecstasy of pain and the cold dehumanization I thrived for so dearly seems now more a chaotic choice in paths than an exploitation of the weaknesses around me

I'd be just as happy baking to death in the desserts of an unhappy trip with no sober grip on reality
As I would be living happily ever after in a tastefully decorated house with realities despotic grip on me

But the choice is yours, not mine.

I'm not made for you.
We won't fit like perfect puzzle pieces,
I can't give you the whole world and magically make it look somewhat decent.
You expect too much from me.
I can't even look out for myself,
you sit there and watch me crying on the floor and come asking me for help,
I can't support you.
It'll hurt me too much to try,
your codependency is overbearing I don't text you and you wonder why.
I can't do this.
But I can't tell you that right now,
if I leave you it gives you a reason to start drinking and you'll just drag me down.
I don't love you.
But I don't think you care,
every thought I have in the back of my head somehow you're always there.
Just stay away from me.
I don't want this anymore.
You aren't the person that I want to be with,
and you're starting to **** me off.

you don't cross my mind
you cross my heart
and hope I die
pins and needles in my eyes
I don't think you're happy
darling I won't lie
but it's your fate
I'll let you live your life
just know I love you
and that you're killing me
with all your fake laughs
and your lack of energy
you're fading and you don't
give a **** about me
but you're dragging us all down
it's the end of my humility
you're ******* bolts into
you ******* coffin we're
both going down silently
there's still nothing I can do for
you if there were I'd fight
this violently

At such a point as that which breathing does not define life of an entity
At such a point as that which heart does not define living
At such a point as that which soul is irrelevant
At that such point lies the true purgatory: living

You
poems are always about you
who are you
Well we see you as the depiction of absolute perfection
we see you as the broken painting
picture perfect
smoke kissing spin the bottle absolutely everything we want to be ours
But who are you

you know, some people judge me
they say that I can't love and I'm crule and no one will ever be 'exciting' enough to make me stay with them
but
it just so happens
that I wake up every morning to think about how you drum your fingers on your steering wheel
and if you're so into a song you'll close your eyes and purse your lips and tap your hands on the side of it
and how funny you are without trying
and how smart you are
and that ******* laugh I love
the genuine one. not the fake one.
and how sad we are together.
you give the best hugs of all time
and I absolutely love the way you say my name, not 'dawnie', Desirea
you made me love the sound of it.
hearing your voice after a hard day was such a better pick me up than coming home and smoking *** spaced out on my couch.
I love you.

"my chest hurts and I don't know why"
that's a mood
that's my constant dilemma
I'm nothing if not yours and you're nothing if not unobtainable
who am I and who are you
those are questions for the century
smoke your life away
like the years you waste are ash from a cigarette
screaming gets old just get your point across
again I'm nothing if not yours so who have I been all of this time

I told you that you were a grounding person
And you said you didn’t know what I meant.
So I took some time to write out how I’ve felt about you,
And how I feel about it.

I realized a long time ago that I’d loved you since we’d met.
That I held onto your every word like it might have taught me
something new about the inside of your beautiful head.
I thought you were too funny to be that happy and your perspectives were so raw,
I noticed morals and a gentleness in you it never seemed like anyone else saw.
My eyes give away a lot of my emotions, I’ve never had a very steady poker face.
As I got to know you better,
It seems like they started giving me away.
I feel more now but the feeling has never changed

See it wasn’t “love at first sight”
It was way more intense

Because you felt familiar
And I didn’t understand it then.

But you felt like someone I’d known my whole life
Before I’d ever even touched you.

Now I never, ever, want it to stop.

"My name is Death."

He said with some finality.

"and you shall feel my cold hands groping your throat,"

and I did.

"and you shall feel my cold hands brushing your breast,"

and I did.

"and you shall feel my cold hands trace your thighs,"

Oh, I did feel it.

"and you shall feel my cold hands rip the life from you
so that we may dance this once."

and what a marvelous dance it was; my brush with him.

I wish to feel it again,
that love.

My words taken out of context
Could lead one to believe
That I’m the villain in the story
That I am nothing but a thief
I uphold the standard of my morals but
Your microscope is dirtily gray-tinged
I do not endure to give you hope
I am not here to claim that you win
I simply live to experience
The hurt and pain and sorrow
I have no desire to leave this world today
I’ll try again tomorrow
You strew me about
Drugged me
Held me down and spit in my face
You called me a false prophet and
Kept me over an arm's length away
My struggle seems for not
As futile as it may be
I try to conjure myself in your dreams
But you don't seem to hear me
I scream to you from a distance
Behind a forcefield of self-restraint
An aching mind recovering
My generosity and love all but *****

He scribbled a prophecy into my skin with an ice-cold blade
Marking me to his fellow predators
As easy prey
He believed that it was “a little girls job to please a man, like him”

He decorated me in pretty clothes and jewelry
Walking me around to show off his sparkly new object
One day he asked for something in return
As he’d given so much already without asking
And almost completely overnight the pretty decorations I wore with such esteem
Became the bumps and the bruises
They made me feel secure about my place in his life, and mine
He believed that “it was better for everyone when he got what he wanted, especially me”

He told me I was grown-up for my age
Playing house felt so surreal
Running errands and planning dinners
Having my own nuclear prison to rot away in was so appealing
One with gorgeous photos hung on a wall decorated also with drywall patches
He left me with a permanent reminder
The imperfectly circular shape of a fire poker end
In one of his favorite thumb holds
He believed that “thank you was all I should be screaming, for all the work that he’s put into me”

He used to treat me like I didn’t exist
Like a burden to him in every situation
I was better seen not heard
I absolutely had to be doped up to be interesting to him
I once told someone he was hitting me and he adamantly held the position
That I begged him to do it
The worst part was that I very well may have
He used to get me so drunk I couldn’t see, or feel, right
He believed that “I would never find someone who’d love me like he did, no one could”

He carefully pretended to rescue me
From the trap I had lain out just for myself
He crept his way into the foreground of my life
With a sick plan
And while I had known that his intentions were less than honest
I couldn’t place my finger on anything particularly that I distrusted
His begging was painful to my ears
But he reminded me of all the men before him
In the pathetic way that he told me he desperately needed me,
Like the sun needed the sky
Then acted like he never wanted me to begin with
He believed that I’d never leave him.

He believed that I was the pièce de résistance of his cynical brainwashing trials
When in reality I had been set up for failure
See from the very, very, beginning
I had been chasing that first hit of validation