"She was an
unusual dresser.
Every night,
she wore bruises
on her heart,
love on her lips,
pain in her eyes,
and ink on her fingers.
They called her poetry."

do you still love me
do you still love m
do you still love
do you still lov
do you still lo
do you still l
do you still
do you stil
do you sti
do you st
do you s
do you
do yo
do y
do
d
di
did
did y
did yo
did you
did you e
did you ev
did you eve
did you ever
did you ever l
did you ever lo
did you ever lov
did you ever love
did you ever love m
did you ever love me

If it were to only rest upon my hands and breathe through my life..
to posses what others view when they smile fondly on their past
instead..
I feel velvet scars rising
forming into reminders;
my dreams slept were only nightmares
my dreams awake were only mirrors to night
the only one to hold me was my dead teddy bear
cold, stale, mildewed from my tears
suicide preached upon, with words of parents
A happy childhood is all I asked for..

i crumble under your fingers.
i break with your touch.
i weaken looking into your eyes.
i scream imagining your body.
i tear out my hair
reliving that night.
i run away from you,
away from myself
into the dark.

stop, it hurts.
stop, leave me be.

you tainted my soul,
that night broke me
into a million
pieces.

where on earth
is the remorse?

Written on my hands
Are all the secrets I wish to tell you
But my hands remain in clenched fists
So tight the ink begins to seep

We played pretend
We pretended like it never happened
Like it was all just perfect
We chose to play the game
We turned pretence into art form.