One empty nightstand and a closet half-full,
dim the lights and don't bother
to draw back the covers before you
surrender to the time.
The windows are drab and unclean
because you've lost the ambition to see clearly.
The sink is cluttered with the ghosts
of your last meal together and the rotting smell
filling the kitchen
is your favorite reminder that you didn't really
enjoy her cooking anyway.

She's a suicide bomb
Ready to go off at any minute
Waiting for the person who will push her over the edge
Into a black abyss full of tears and self-hate
Exploding once she reaches rock bottom
Lashing out at those around her
Trying to make them feel what she feels
Giving back the hate she was given
And causing the same tears that she shed

The first time my lips touched a cigarette,
I cringed at the taste but I ****** and puffed the toxins anyways.
smooth.
It was menthol.
I didn't know what that meant.
I didn't care.
I just wanted to be cool with my friends.
They were 14,
I was 12.
'Mature for my age'.
I had fitted in.
But was smoking that cigarette really, really worth it?
I haven't talked to those 'friends' in 6 years.

i stopped writing about love and all the people
that begged for rations of my lips and eyes
i've left the pages white and neat and empty
i've kept the plastic wrap around my mind.

i stopped trying to feel something worth describing
with rhythm and with simile and rhyme.
i am collected in this box of bones and sutures
i am impossible to love past dinner time.

i stopped shaking from my heavy, dreamless sleeping,
the timing belt to which my feet are strapped.
i am locked into a ground that can't broken,
guarding mines of love like gold that can't be tapped.

i stopped writing about depth and loss and body
i packed and froze my stock of butterflies
i've kept in cages all the wild phrases
that once wandered like balloons into the skies.

i stopped turning all the pages of the scripture
i pray only after two glasses of wine
i dug until i found the clay of chaos
then stabbed my shovel dully in its spine.

i stopped writing about love and all it's meanings
i am suspended on a rope above my heart
cracking slowly under weight of empty spaces
why fall in love when you can fall apart?

I play out countless scenarios involving you in my mind
Knowing they'll never happen
Even now, I imagine you sitting here, listening to me speak these words
Words that are filled with dreams of something more
I tell myself I should give up this hopeless fantasy of you
But I just can't seem to
I know it's pointless to keep imagining me and you together
But yet I still torture myself with what will never be

I hate feeling unsure about everything thing I do
Not knowing if what I'm saying is the right thing to say
And not knowing if what I'm doing is the right thing to do
I hate regretting every decision I make
And forcing myself to imagine all of the most horrible outcomes
This insecurity that controls me overpowers any happiness I feel
And I'm so tired of it
Tired of this hate I feel for myself
And tired of my inability to do anything about it
I should love myself for who I am and not have to change in order to do that
Because I am beautiful and perfect just like I am
But my eyes aren't able to see it
And my mind isn't able to think it
Others can say that I'm pretty and gorgeous and beautiful
But the words that come out of their mouths are incomprehensible to me
Depression-filled nights and binging on strawberry poptarts and cheerios is all I know
Not love for myself or others
All I know is nights where I just cry and cry until my mascara streaks my cheeks
Where my eyes burn from all the tears I've shed
Self-hate and insecurity are rearing their ugly heads once again
And I'm just so tired of having to see them
But yet I still get up the next day
Because that is what's expected of me
And because I know there's no other options but to push on and keep trying
I say I'm okay when I'm really not
And I cake my makeup on so the pain that lies beneath isn't seen
My tears and cries are hidden away between the four dark walls of my bedroom and they only come out at night when my day is over and I'm all alone
I'm all alone with no one to protect me and shield me from the pain I inflict upon myself
But then how would someone protect me from myself?
My thoughts run rampant
They cannot and will not be controlled
Not by me or anyone else