If nothin else therapy
reminds me that I am still
a broken piece of a bowl,
that needs someone else to fix it

I love you,
no matter how much I hate you.
Its just that simple,
just that complicated,
and just that amazing.

Windy streets
quiet towns
let the snow
come
          c
              r
                 a
                     s
                        h
                            i
                               n
                                   g
                       down

love is about the quiet moments
the moments between breathing and speaking
it is about just holding someone
not talking
not speaking
just holding them

But it is also about the things you don't say
the shame that pours across your face
as you look at your loved one
the chasm that the things we don't say make
is the one that will cut deepest.

I can’t scream
I can’t move
I can’t breathe
they air leaves my lungs
but I don’t care
tears well
but do not run
they are still, like me
perhaps only they know
how fragile this moment is

Is thirteen too young
to write with abandon
to publish work
to thirst for new words
to gaze with no purpose
to get lost in your own head
am I to young for poetry

our relationship was like confetti
the parties gone, the guests have left
but it sits, damp, lifeless, alone
in the grass

Our relation ship was like glitter
even though the sparkle is gone,
its still turning up
in the couch cushions

Our relationship is like the party long gone
every loves to reminisce
but no one wishes they'd stayed longer

the thaw of the ice
is a sad goodbye,
a parting gift from winter
to spring.
the gift of growth,
of flowers pushing their way up
to inform us:
spring has begun

How long can piece last
in a valley where havoc reined
where wanders get lost
hopefully a long time
hopefully forever
but don’t answer
anticipation ruins everything
even if you’ve waited forever

the moments,
the time it takes to get somewhere,
are like cracks in a sidewalk.
plants grow in the impossible here,
pushing there way to the sun

in the hollow of my bones you rattle
striking panic in my brain
but from collapsing I must refrain
a finger strokes my wrist
my hands shake
as I realize my pulse is there
and I could destroy it

the word die used to
just slid, simply,
with nothing to hide.
Now the word die
sits in my throat,
like a pill half swallowed.
I'm not sure whether to bring it down or up.

If you constantly
remind me of the past
then tell me to be happy
that’s hypocrisy
you opinions are not helpful

My momentum
sweeps me in an arch
I can almost touch the sky,
I can almost feel her again.
She is a butterfly,
passing, with her stained glass wings.
She is too far,
I’m plummeting
away, away from the sky,
down heels dragging
My wings are clipped,
with you just out of reach.

i take my ant-depressaints dry
the move down my throat
unwillingly
chalkly in my mouth
and sticky in my throat
sticking there.
taking it dry is a punishment for taking the pill at all

she choked on the petals
while the rest of us
savored their sickly sweet taste

Hue in the sky’s
silhouette trees
brighten the darkness
and open my eyes
to a new sunrise

I sat there thinking
Voices thoughts swirling in out
What does crying cost

no one loves you when you're choking
on your own breath
the look at the rope binding you
and believe it is beyond them
to begin unraveling them

I feel your presence behind me,
dragging me down
I see you in my quiet eyes
framed with a deep purple

I fear your whisper
a song of loneliness, laced with lies
as I move through the hours

You sneak up in the daylight,
grabbing wind in my lungs
you never seem to let go

I’m constantly at your mercy
fearful of your defiance
I’m prey and you are predator
and the hunt is almost over

depression just hugs me
in all the right places
like a dress that you've tailored

it hugs me because after I've had
two panic attacks and a cry
I want to thank the giver of these wonderful gifts

you hunger,
you hunt and stalk.
sloth, loss, despair
you know it all.

but you want most
you lust after power and purpose.
you want and wait,
never doing.

you stalk,
never pouncing,
unless the prey moves to you
you are stagnant

yes, yes, my friend
you can wait,
and watch
you will always crave though
because you will never do

Tears roll
D
     O
           W
                  N
my face
goodbyes roll
                  O
             U
        T
my mouth
and my arms
W               P
        R   A
around my friends

i like how you keep the word 'suicide'
locked up as if its for my own good

its a fun way to remind me, that i am a broken peice of furniture
that could crack under the weight of any one thing

Why do you get to care?
you weren’t there
when I was scared
when I was tired
when I screamed
or couldn’t move
So why do you get to be here now?
up on your horse
you don’t get to ride up
and offer your hand
while I’m in the mud.
maybe I don’t want saving,
maybe the mud is good, cool,
maybe I like the feeling
that I’m finally exactly what I accuse myself of being

Do not cry
Do not worry you didn’t do enough
I am free from the burden that I carried every where
Or maybe I looked to my wrists
And realized that there were no shackles
Only the ones I drew there