I don't worry as much,
which is strange to me.
I'm not constantly thinking about you,
and that's probably a good thing.
You were my best love,
and it's okay that we're just friends.
I don't hurt anymore,
I've given in to the numbness within.

Dreams are often interpreted as lovely and fantastic,
but what some seem to forget is that nightmares,
as scary as they may be, are also dreams.
Those types of dreams are not lovely or fantastic,
hence the name: Nightmares.

Life is often interpreted as wild and exciting,
but what some seem to forget is that Staying Alive,
as agonizing as it may be, is also life.
That type of life is not exciting or fun,
but it's also: Life.

A swirl of need, want, and terror resides within me.
I need to connect,
I want to connect;
however, the connection inspires my innermost fears
to come slinking out of the dark
showing their faces
and grinning as I become
hopelessly afraid.
Unfortunately,
if this terror persists,
I fear that I may soon
come to an end.

"smile darling" my mother states.

"Yes mum," I must comply.

"stand still sweetheart," my mother crowes.

"Yes mum," I must obey.

This was the worst family photo ever.

I'm a critic,
a professional if you will,
I can find a microscopic flaw
and write a review a paper long.
Each review gets a massive cut,
unfortunately it's not a profit,
but a decrease in my blood.
Yes, I'm a critic.
And I tear myself apart,
finding each and every bug
and bringing it to the front.
For who is best to critique,
but the one I know best.
You're right, I'm a critic.
I have numerous flaws.
Each one eats at me,
and I must critique them all.

I want pain
I need pain
Not the pain on the inside
I need physical pain
So that maybe,
just maybe,
I won't remember
the pain on the inside.

I remember the memory
Of that silver blade
Flitting across my pale skin.
I remember the pain,
And the emotional anguish,
That led me to commit the act.
I remember the repulsive thoughts
That led me to believe
that I was not enough.
I remember that it was easier,
To cut and have real pain,
Rather than something that wasnt concrete.
I remember how hard it was
To curb the addiction
That I had developed.
I remember it all.

The struggle to breathe has become too much.
Just yesterday I had a dream and almost couldn't get up.
Lost in an irate sea, slowly sinking to the bottom
A dark figure watches as I lose the air that fills my lungs.
Hands outstretched toward the surface.
No, not the surface.
Toward you.
You, my very sustenance.
The water I drink, the air I breathe
and without it, I shall drown.
and with too much, I shall also drown.
And so, I must keep you at an arms length.
Never truly embracing you,
yet never truly dismissing you.
Awaking with a start.
A pressure on my chest.
I hadn't been breathing.
Even in my sleep, I am unsafe.

O-F-F
                                
                                                          M
    ­                                                            I
   ­                                                        S
                                                               ­   S
                                                            ­   I
                                                           N
                                                               ­    G

                                             Something is missing.
                                                        ­It's not lost
                                                            ­    or

                                                         ­          J
                                                               ­        U
                                                               M
                                                               ­            B
                                                               ­         L
                                                      ­        E
                                                       ­           D

                                                  I­t's simply not there.
                                            And I do not know what it is.
                                                             ­     
                                                           ­  I love him,
                                                 but something is missing.
                                          
                                                                ­ It feels
                                                           ­                 
                           O
                         F
                      F

                                                            Temp­orary.
                                                            not concrete.
                                             As if the wind could blow it away.
    





                                                 ­                                                 I've finally dropped my walls
                                                           ­          For someone new
                            
                                ­   but it just feels...
                                                                ­                                               off

I will be open with you.
I won't lock you out of my heart.

I will communicate effectively.
I won't hide my feelings away.

I will tell you small things.
I won't shut you out.

I will confide the larger things.
I won't bottle them inside.

I will give you all the love in me.
I won't let this relationship die out.

I always mess up.
Somehow. Someway.
Each and every time.
I accidentally hurt you.
I don't mean to.
I never mean to.
Yet I cannot find the proper words
to convey that I am not abandoning you.
to convey that I am not against you.
It's overwhelming.
Overwhelming to the point
that a knife to the stomach is preferable.
For maybe it would provide
more release than temporarily solving the problem.
A permanent fix.

I'm walking down a path
And along the way...
I just keep getting stung and bitten.

I'm enduring this path
But is there any point...
If I just keep getting tossed to the ground?

I want to disconnect
Away from this reality
Off to some fictional world
Where nothing truly matters.

I want to leap far away
From the bumpy road,
Miles from this stupid situation,
That just keeps knocking me over.

I try so hard to clear my mind and breathe,
but my brain speaks too often.
The words don’t connect with one another.
They’re all over the place.
From one to the next–I cannot focus.

You're gone now,
but I can focus on me.
I can copy and paste more smiles on,
while deleting my feelings and opinions.
I'll turn on autocorrect,
and format myself the "right" way.
I'll accept suggestions from my peers,
and stop straying from the rubric.
Maybe this way, I'll be worthy of an A.
I won't become the F that's in everyone's brain.
So the revision begins, even if what's inside me ends.
Wish me luck, I can't take another failing grade.

Lately I’ve been struggling with my body.
I am not skinny enough: I’m chubby.
I’m not feminine enough: I’m ugly.
I’m not masculine enough: I’m frumpy.
I cannot look at myself.

Im ****** up.
Everyone leaves me.
I guess I'm not good enough.
And I don't think I'll ever be good enough.
I think its time for me to leave them.
Because they're too good.
And I think they will always be.
So with a steady hand, Ill let my blood seep.
And my soul wither away into nothing.

I was just so numb,
and the blade pierced my skin
as if it had a mind of its own.
I watched the sad drip away,
All the pain seep out,
in a vivid and bright red.

Stopstopstopstop
You're not supposed to listen to these
Thoughtsthoughtsthoughts
Remember what happened the last time, all those
Cutscutscutscuts

You're tearing yourself apart. Stop.
Just stop.
You're being stupid.

My voice is small, but fierce.
My heart is fiery, but soft.
My eyes are cold, but honest.
My life is short, but real.

I love you, I hate you.
There is no difference.
Each phrase is simply three words,
That without action, mean nothing.
So, I guess we're nothing.