Inhale smoke,
exhale my memories,
laugh at a joke,
and forget about your enemies

Wake up sober,
freak about the future,
struggle through another day,
and start it all over.

You're in love with her.
She's the kind of soft that makes the sun fall to its knees every evening just to get a closer glimpse.
She's everything that makes a boy believe in god.
How else could he be alive at the same time as her if he didn't?
The odds are too great for there to be any other reason that he gets to make her smile.
That kind of smile that's designed to melt boys like him that i've turned cold.
You thought I was her once.
Speaking of thoughts, do I ever cross your mind sometimes like you cross mine? Even if unintentional?
At night I accidentally love you like no time has passed.
I know it's just my unconscious mind, but while I sleep there's a version of you that loves me still.
You're a dream that I wish wasn't.
So it's the worst kind of accident you could say.
Maybe not accidental if gods real like you believe he is.
My dreams might possibly just be his way of saying "*******".

you wake up
his hair is spilled across the pillow,
the sun slants across his cheekbone
and his breath is slow and even.
he smells like an open field
and his body is wrapped around yours
so he keeps you warm.
you think,
there is no moment better than this,
that he is too perfect to exist.
but you wake up gasping,
skin soaked in sweat.
you lie there for a long time,
in your completely empty bed.

Everything I write, everything I draw; delete

The things I create, I cannot complete

Is it being insecure or being lazy?                                                            ­                                                                 ­     

I don't know how to be a productive lady                    

I feel stupid                                                           ­                                                                 ­                                                  

Since I can't anything executed

My work lives in the recycling bin

It's close in resemblance to a din

The backspace key is faded

My soul is abraded

I hate that I can't articulate

Does anyone else relate?

At least this poem is finished but it has no real end                                                              ­                                

I hope it shows what I intend

I could write a thousand words
To dedicate to you,
And every single word I wrote
You’d hold no doubt is true.
For every single paragraph,
And every single start,
I’d write for you in no less than
The ink of my own heart.

To you, the one I write about.
To you, my old obsession.
To you, whose love I have no doubt
Without would bring depression.
To you, my cosmic concubine,
My supernova rose.
To you, who self-proclaimed they’re mine
Despite that no one knows.
To you, I hold the sweetest thoughts
And toast the sweetest pain.
To you, the girl who, everyday,
I fall for once again.

If my life, within my eye,
Should flash before me as I die,
Pain and doubt will turn a blur
As I recall my time with her.

Of all life; devoid and cold,
Onto just one thing I’ll hold.
Though I’ll lie in disrepair,
Fear will fade, for she is there.