A broken mirror,

A bleeding fist,

A sliver blade against a wrist,

Tears falling down to lips unkissed,

Ignore her and she won't exist,

She's not the kind you'll come to miss..

Sometimes, when I watch the stars
I wonder if they watch us too

I wonder if we, humans, amaze them
Grace the view that they see
Sparkle a light that they admire
Or maybe otherwise
I wonder if we scare them
Upset their lives with our presence
Disgust them with our dark hearts

I wonder if they deem us a splendid beauty
Or a horrible horrible mistake

Suicide isn't the question
Nor is it the answer
The world is **** near emptied of hope
Who are you to say what's normal?

Nightmares
You are still just
a flash or a scream.
The feeling of losing

my hold
on someone slippery,
for something fleeting

As a young girl, I suspected it:
the carnage of night
Who could have warned me?
How quickly I lost sight
of my role in a cuter world,
holding the brightest light, the guardian
devil, bring me back
to that old familiar cage fight

There are layers of stories within me
peeled back subconsciously where our
atmosphere can contact

It's getting close to a vein
my eyes go skipping over every sound
I'm panicking right now
intensive restructuring
I have lost my way

Vulnerable to pressure
and lonely
Desperate for a push
bologna
I feel so dangerous

I want to love
the warmth of your fire
I bet it feels good
to burn and burn away
Dissipate into ashy air
will you hold me higher
for now? I'm soft I heal quickly I don't disobey
the shear when
it creeps in too far. I get happier
when I find my own stars
I get angrier
when coach scrutinizes my arms

No amount of emotion will bring me closer to life
No color speaks to me
like the bright pigment
from my knuckles
in the corners of my cuticles
over these thighs and ankles

we are only alive briefly
thank god

Do all people find ways to torture themselves?
We could have colors
and blindness
stacked on our shelves

but we are keen,
enigmatic,
and desperately mean.

lay off the Pause button and I'll Play
the string of
your harp
that nobody else knew how to start
You're ******* welcome,
I'm glad you see I tried,
never did I imagine they'd ignore me when I
cried, or when I
stretched out my hand
for love instead of admiration
comfort instead of more opinions of their conceptualization
of my place in our ***** swarm of civilization

it doesn't mean a thing to be complimented
when you want more than recognition

Sparks, imperial journey to the great gold
     it's day for shining
     dark for crying
     and pining
     deciding
     where to go? in this great blue world
I see lines
     better to remove the dust and
     grab whatever's floating

How would we stay alive for ourselves?
          Tell me what a real person is.
          Ask me what a real human is.
Green, I feel green
     in the face and the toes
     because green grows
     what the heart knows
Safety is gone
     but i feel alright. Just because it might go away doesn't mean I have to hold on harder, or bite down stronger.

Everything slips, because
     everything slips.
     Hang me on a string
     and rid the town of my modern making
They wanted a puppet
     but they gave me the wrong color
     the mismatched wood
     uneven cards and googly eyes
     that see too much.

Maybe the sun could bleach me
     back to a perfect dolly
     on the windowpane
     for your pleasure and my disdain
We could avoid the mess
     of dancing under Vega
     Aquarius is finally here
     and it only talks this way
     in the summertime
But I've learned to listen:
     love sets in after time, and distance is quickest.

I sent a letter admitting that it's partially my fault
     for losing myself in the hanging orb
     but internally I knew that distance is quickest
I sense a change above our hearts
     and it wants
     an audience
Maybe the stars know what to do?
     Down here it's not true
     to say we have any clue

If there only was a way to learn that Sparks in the sky
     are opportunities to try
          and lie less
          to be great and honest
     Learn that distance is quickest

Green: the spaceship of our baby dreams
     and quilt seams
     begging us to replant
     and re-*** and re-hash
     for a brighter future
     a lighter day
Wringing on my knees in the end
     to believe that distance is quickest
     and harmony's not already dead

Finally.
I know that Sparks exist
for me to recharge and rebuild.
They're green and they live in the sky
that we filled
they live in my art and the world's heart
so if safety existed: Sparks would not.
and the distance would look like time.

So tell me why I should be human
when I run so much better as a
shiny
porcelain
battery
backup
mind