graveyard boy, you are all skin and bones
i cut myself on your cheeks until i am red and raw
and your heart bursts out of your chest by the marble stones

bones boy, the night seeps from inside you as the sun goes down
i count your ribs up one by one and stretch myself over your skin
cover me from this haunting that rises from your gray eyes

blood boy, you are red and screaming under flesh
i can see your spidery veins inside of your wrists
warm and speeding when your hands touch my throat

ghost boy, tie me up with ropes and lower me to the ground
let me be hollow with you and fill the spaces with silence
the moon will be gone once we have made it far enough

Lethargic depressed insane inane speechless crazy alone loved.
still alone searching hiding scared asking hoping walking.  simplistic.
connected living breathing-wishing I wasn't.  Sleeping longing paranoid strange homeless judged.  
stereotypes dependent wishing thinking realism tricks mental functions waves patterns medicine.  
Staying awake.  Crying, screaming, screaming, screaming, angst, anger, understanding yet misunderstood.
apathy
manic precocious processing watching waiting listening-not tasting. day mares.  trains feet cars writing resting regaining energetic.
back down.
up.
down, staying down. staying trying attending pushing achieving descending reading.
surviving. impossible. surviving.

As a child, I tossed rocks at the birds in the backyard;
Laughing with my friends, aiming to hit them.
After so many misses, I never expected contact.

I slumped over to the tiny motionless animal,
Stared down at the carcass,
and swore, through tears, that I didn’t mean to.

Just like that moment

With your crushed heart in my hand,
Sorry does not mean anything;
I know.

I swear I didn’t mean to.

Perfect
is what I'm not

I cry too much
and eat when I'm sad
I crave attention
and tell secrets
that I wasn't meant to tell
I don't study enough
and get a few B's
I'm a few inches too short
a few more pounds too big
I make a bunch of mistakes
I talk too much
and forget to listen closely

and all of this swirls
sticks
percolates
in my brain
making me forget
that not being perfect
doesn't mean I'm not
good

I’m still here, I think
I feel myself climbing back into my body
sometimes
I feel my cheeks filling back up with color
somehow
the voice that tells me to speak
is melting back into my heart
and away from my brain

and my lips
are non-robotic
my lips
are real

and I didn’t put on any makeup
and my face is mine, not a small glass bottle’s

I want everything
I want nothing

I’m melted crayons, I think
I’m mixing together
and I don’t care
because I’m warm
and melting

I’m mixed up
but make complete sense
like atoms
or balloons.
I want to sing.

I think my skin’s missed me.
I’ve missed me too.