You can taste the blood on my tongue
But I can’t feel the pain
I’m tied by elastic bands to a reality so dire that I can’t face it.
My soul rises out of my chest and a world of demons appears in my vision
Snapped suddenly back I see your worried eyes searching my face
And I briefly wish that the elastic would choke me

Poison ivy next to a poisoned tree,
Poisoned friendships, poisoned by me
A broken promise, a buried seed
A safe place, a good friend, lots of love guaranteed
A liar, a cancer, advice all gone bad
****** up love, I’m toxic, the remnants of my dad
A death wish, a threat and a promise in one breath
I’ll save you, I’ll help you, I could be the cause of your death
A hero, a darling and conquer of the broken
I’m ****** up and I break things at least it’s no longer left unspoken.

How can I love myself
When the voices in my head tell me I don’t deserve it?
A constant companion of self doubt that won’t quit
Telling me it hates me and that I should ******* die
A hundred thousand critics residing within my minds eye
You tell me that I’m strong
You say that I’m a hero for being able to survive
Yet my league of disparagers makes it easy to contrive
A million different reasons for me slit my wrist
If only the voices in my psyche and I could coexist
So how can you say I’m pretty
When my long term phantoms disagree
I’d cut my veins and swollen pills if I could only guarantee
That every voice, flicker and spirit would evacuate my soul
Because at least if I **** myself, then I’ll be in control

Everyone talks about passion as if they know her.
But passion is my closest friend.
Passion is the fire that burns behind her eyes, the cigarette perishing between her lips.
Passion is the way my mouth feels against her chest, the breathy moan as my fingers grab her hips
Everyone says she is intense, but all I can think is how much there’s left to learn
Because passion knows what it feels like to burn out.
She lights fires in dangerous places and has more scorch marks than she has friends
Shes so calm and gentle yet never condescends
Passion is convalescence, her voice heals more than it bites
She holds my hand in the day time and holds me tighter in the nights.
Passion is pulling her closer at 1am because she smells like hope.
And nobody talks about hope as if they know her.
Passion is manipulated, overlooked and exploited
Everyone talks about passion as if they know her.
But nobody talks about passion as if they deserve her.

If love is a galaxy
Then our friendship is a star
Your fingertips trace the constellations onto my shoulder
And send shivers down my spine.
Sparks fly like shooting stars
And supernovas flash within your eyes
Your tongue crashes against mine, a meteor against earth
Your body is cosmic,
Your body is cosmic and finally I understand
Why black holes are so damaging
And why people stargaze on cloudy nights

In the attic of my childhood home lives a box labelled pandora
Its worn out cardboards sealed with tape
And the dust forms a bad aura
For eight whole years it’s lay untouched
Only poked at from a distance
It’s grimy contents full of hate
Yet the reason for my existence

Your whole body lay trembling
Under the darkened skies
Briefly your eyes met mine
I wondered if I’d ever seen anything so beautiful
You smiled as a wave passed through you
Your fingertips dug into my shoulders
And your hips ****** beneath the touch of my hand
Constellations couldn’t compare to the stories your moans tell
Toes curl and thighs tense
My hand wraps around your throat
And your eyes roll back
“Be a good girl and *** for me”