Have you ever watched a person crumble
Their eyes glaze over like the surface of a frozen lake
They dissolve like the pills I didn’t take this morning, right in front of you
Hands clenched, jaw clenched, eye brows knitted into a tight patchwork
A small smile, a nod, and a chuckle whose brevity is outmatched by the shear amount of pain released in one gasp
You get a taste of what’s been brewing in the coffee *** of a soul that’s gone sour
You get a glimpse of a soldier captured by the enemy, sitting stagnant in prison
Awaiting the day that their nation returns to free them in a victorious stampede, little do they know the war has been long over and lost
So have you seen a person so gutted from the inside that they posses the stench of an empty carcass
Have you seen a person crumple, a paper plane gliding into a pond, a house of cards in a hurricane
I’ve seen a person melt
I’ve seen them disappear

Have you ever said goodbye forever
And know that it was true

Progressively progressing towards
Aggressively repressing thoughts
Obsessively ingesting medication
Only to
Suggestively request more

I am the womb that rejects the life inside it
I am the tomb that has yet to find her corpse
I write with knowledge only I can know
For my mind is only mine
(Except when it isn’t)

With nothing to occupy every hour of my time
A loss of structure that I have so heavily relied
Things sink in that floated before
And they all thought that I had shut that door

It’s my last night in this room that’s become a makeshift home
A tiny little room with bunk beds and a bad AC
This room that I’ve grown to love and hate but mostly love
I don’t want to go
I have cried every day
I don’t want to go
I’m glad I gave my therapist a hug goodbye
He deserved it
I’m glad I wrote my professor a note on the back of the final
She means so much to me
I’m glad I took goodbye pictures with my friends
May they all have safe summers

If the murderous dreams would stop
If then I’d be better than this
Maybe

Why do I feel like I’m looking in on a world that I’m somehow not part of
A spectator in the empty stands of the game of a lifetime

My heart jumps too much now
My head spins and I get dizzy
My twitches have started to revisit
And breathing is harder today

All symptoms of a sick spirit

What if they fight? What if his heart problem is worse than anticipated?
What if he does lose his job?
My mom says she will divorce him if he does
He would **** himself.
Who do you root for? Who do you worry about?
I will never be able to only worry about me
I make myself sick over them
I make myself sick
You know what’s at home?
...
A pair of lovely dogs waiting to greet me. I can’t wait.

My pillow is a graveyard for tears that have slipped down my cheeks to the great beyond

It’s hazy tonight as the quarter half moon glows
I grip the edges tight as the moist wind gently blows
Sitting on the rocks of the roof with soft hushed voices
Suddenly not caring about making the wrong choices
The cityscape is faint under shrouds of cool grey mist
I think of all these moments that I know I could’ve missed
My friends sit close and look up, staring up to find the stars
Me pointing out the landmarks, all of them sitting out so far
A moment of sisterhood and rebellion that we have never shared
We pull our shirts and bras off as if we had never cared
We three expose ourselves to the world that softly sleeps
This memory is ours, and it’s only ours to keep.

A dozen pen sketched faces
Running out of empty spaces
The page is nearly filled

My chemistry notes are spotted
With thick black ink that's blotted
With thoughts that I've let spill

I don't know what to say
For there is not a single way
That I could make you stay

Everything is ending
But is anything beginning
What is worth my spending

I wrote you so that you'd know
That this has a chance to grow
Into a friendship we must sow

So I sit here writing, scheming
Awake but somehow dreaming
That nobody is leaving
That I am not alone.

Here's to the people who are faded and worn
A pair of old jeans that are partially torn
You people whose eyes hold the weight of the world
Messages written in smoke are unfurled

Sometimes I hear a voice
And what does it say
It tells me my life should have ended that day

And whose voice is it
Well that's the thing you see
I'm not sure if it's someone else or just me

Let's keep tabs on that
Write down all that you hear
Why can't I talk to you and be more clear

I want to see you next week
I will see when I'm free
Why does it feel like you're keeping something from me