i'll cut,
not one by two.
maybe even three.
ill cut so deep
not even the doctors
can reach.
and I promise not to.
ill promise ill stop.
but I've not,
its an addiction.
its like ****,
but mines a razor.
It's like ***,
but mines my skin.
ill promise I've quit.
but not even close.
this
is uncontrollable.
a need or pull towards me.
maybe a hobby,
like drawing but my canvas
my wrist.

every poem has a sheet
over it,
protecting life from its deeper meaning.
i will not do that,
I will let this world know what it does
to the people.
my friend took His
to save mine.
the world pushed me down
into a hole.
But my friend
pulled me out.
still I ran away,
toward the world.
everytime, He was there.
by my side.

Eat Eat Eat,
that's what my friends say.
that's what they ask of me.
is to eat.
so that my belly won't growl
and I won't be hungry.
but the growl of my stomach
is a better feeling of relaxation
than the regret of eating,
and feeling like a pig.

When Pluto was left out,
she grew sad and cold.
When Pluto was picked on,
she grew smaller.
I spread around warmth and
welcoming smiles
because I too know
what it's like to be
cold and sad.
to not be able to smile.

You threw me to the snakes
leaving me to fend for myself,
discarding me like an object that
you had grown bored of.
And,
when i crawled out from the pit
more powerful than before,
venom coursing through my veins ,
I became the monster.
I became the one to be feared.

How easy it is to forget that monsters are not born
but made
and my dear,
you are responsible for every inch of the creature I have become.

Caught in a daze,
thinking of your lips
against mine.
caught in a maze,
and to your surprise
its about you.
you are the start
and the finish line.
the middle and the end.
the chocolate and vanilla swirl that everyone picks,
that I pick,
but I cant have.
so I ginore.
i ignore these feelings for you
like the stars ignore the sun.
hoping that it'll go away,
but it hasn't.
so I pretend is was never there.
but ill end up
thinking of it more and more.
each day you cloud my thoughts
but of course,
I ignore.

sometimes i hope
he cries.
sometimes i hope
he dies.
but sometimes,
ill wonder if he misses me.
the way we spoke,
like the world was collasping
and our hearts
were attaching.
but now I sit here.
think of you.
thinking of this sourly
drawn world
which is still put together into one.
thinking of our hearts.
which aren't out together
with one another.
they're spread out,
wept out,
cried out,
but the tears of me.
tears of our souls.
today a masterpiece.
tomorrow a heartbreak.