A year later, I'm still terrified
In light of everything,
I dont think I'll ever find clarity

She hears me not when I call
for her but when I call her name
I see the lines that catch around
her frame, but cannot see her face
I think to speak although she's nowhere near
And dare to dream although I know
she lies awake
in hopes to lie alone and lie for long
Along that growl that she hides behind her
dully, she stares, nothing
And I see it
And I know
She won't let me pry myself apart
but shes gone from me

Smooth and undefined
My pen is unguided
My papers scratched apart
I fear the tear in the white
but I ruin it still

How can we be when you don't let me near you
How can you wish i was near when i'm 10 minutes on foot away
How can you dream i'm on your doorstep and lock your door

Didn't think id make it this long
Accepted that im done for
Not sure if ill wake up but if I do
What will it mean for me
Accepted that im meaningless
or at least dont want a meaning anymore
I just want to be done for

god you're so pretty
god you're so pretty
god you are lovely
I want to hold your waist
I want to feel your hands
I want to feel your words
As you speak to me
in the flesh
I want to secure you
in the flesh
With my affection,
infiltrate you

I remember hearing the words
I remember feeling found
When she spoke of isolation
When she spoke of being alone

that word keeps coming back to me
vessel
i am to write my means
in 600 words
what is it I believe in
can I write that I do not believe in anything

Cant go on
I cant go on
I cant go on

Dont get too close
Or I'll get cocky
Stare in awe
Only when distanced
And self-depricated
From that my pedestal is built
You see me raised
In my only light
When yourself lowers

a day again
and still I'm saying
I need help

shake away my body
hustle when you tear at it
i don't want to be perceived

unlovable
for the last time I
will hope that another will come along
I hope that
Looking out these windows is a sign
that death is near
and nearer than you
I am so poorly written
i'm sick of it

The ascension and depletion of self-worth
When you lose the ability to write
Relatable poetry

There arent any teams
but they're both against me
I live in two houses
And am welcome in neither
I will forever be stuck
Sleeping on this basement couch
Confined and silenced
A servant of time

Horribly hollow
I face the bell jar
with daydreams of face paint
And a pair of nail clippers

its the horror
of seeing them at the age you were
facing the same pain

Different meanings to the passing bird
I heard you've been mentioning my name
I heard it all until 5am
I dream I'll hear it again
There was no moon today
In the place where it should usually be
At this hour
It was full the night before
The sky is clear now
I wonder what it might mean

I went on a walk
And failed to find any cool rocks

god is a black hole

I am not the same
And nothing new

I never should have said it

watching you like this is weird
through a one-sided mirror
there are moments you look straight at me
without realizing that I'm there
you forgot to turn screenshare on,
I think

I open my phone
its a text from you
that takes all of passing
to read
3 paragraphs to delicately explain
how and why we are through
If I knew
I wouldn't have opened it
The door shuts
and she tells me to read the poem aloud
My stare that compensates
For the dull of my mouth

I feel worse for my apathy
Than I do for you

jack white on the radio
i'm headed home,
afraid that im too far
i feel further from you, too
but too many journal entries
are my doubts
and too many closers
are testaments
of your patience with me

Once I'm on my own two feet
It'll start to make sense
I do not want to be provided for
Anymore

scrubbing the tears off from under my chin
this was an accident
but i don't have the heart to change it

await me
& forget me
this terminal state
this lawful ending
like an archived scrap
waiting to be trashed

I am my own blackhole

she is so terribly personal
do i burn her?
but she is so terribly beautiful
i'll rip the pages out again
soon she'll be only her exterior

I made my mother cry
Hurts to see I'll never change

People were shuffling into the halls in tears
I turned to her and said
'I think I have apathy issues'
She told me she loved me
Squeezed my shoulder
I didnt say anymore

Theres one picture I want to paint
However that may be
I need to grasp
This loneliness
I need to see it in front of me

I feel closer to my childhood self
When I am sobbing

I'm choosing to no longer believe
what anyone tells me about healing
healing is not care or rest
healing
is not sleeping for a week
drinking endless amounts of coffee
writing about isolation
writing about your childhood ghost
and how you've decided
to play your own tricks with time
I am detached and livid
at the assumption that I have processed
anything they've tried to tell me

Handprints on the wall
I'll never know their names
They'll never know our failures
Resting in peace
Without the weight of our legacy
Which has been scrapped thereafter
And withers the print

Can't get rid of the smell of smoke
And the wounds at my side won't calm down

I think some of us are still hopeless
by the end of it
They went through a rough patch &
got over it
but not all of us can
I think some of us are born
Knowing that our end
would be the result of our own hands

Get out of my heart
I dont need a reminder
Of the stone in my future
I dont wish to grasp you
If I cant forever

How many more times am I going to return to this corner of my room
Asking why I've come back to this pain
The bass of it pounds and cancels all other noise until I
Can no longer fathom overcoming it
When will this pain leave me behind
Will it return to me always

exiting out of **** sites to google
life advice from morticians

my words have completely lost me
but even i am not gone
i am in love
and without a word
to describe this solace

I think one of these days I might try to rhyme

here i am again
somehow eternally stuck in this position
scrubbing the guilt off your shoulders
as I pack my bags

o god o let me find you
in this time where you are buried
so far beneath and
all I can hope to do is guard the soil
let me lay over the ice top
not to warm it from the outside
but to let my silhouette be present to you
you who are so far below
this premature hibernation
with no telling of when the ice will crack
and when the ice will break for you
you who are free on the inside
and I
trapped on the outside
I will be here the moment you return
I will be here every moment before then
If only to be a reassurance to you
beneath my feet like an earthquake that I know someday is bound to happen
even if there really is no telling
I know you are there and
I know that you will find me too

Everything that comes out
it is manipulative
it is lonely
I can't force the connection

Time and time and time and
Time again
They guide you
And even they discover
That this isnt the answer
This isnt the answer
Every time
There is only one end

I feel like doing something horrible
But I cannot let it out
So I let it harbor
It is a blow
That I can redirect to my gut
Save you lest it collapses me

My fifth grade self got down on her knees
In the center of her childhood bedroom
Held a steak knife to her stomach
Juliet-style
Because that was the only way she, (at that time of her life), knew how to do it
Other than jumping off a London Bridge into some clamoring river
But she couldn't figure a way to get to London
And was more afraid of heights than she was of death