Last night lightning tore through
the sky and the thunder
shook my house.
The rain flooded the streets
and tornados ripped the Midwestern plains
to shreds.
Afterward the sky painted itself dark red
with wisps of light pink.
Was God trying to apologize?
Did the acres of destroyed land
the flooded neighborhood streets
the lightning burned trees
see the painted sky and forgive?
Should we?

If we have to be destroyed to see beauty
should we forgive?

The snow fell that Sunday night
with ease and i thought
how can the sky let go so calmly
when it was just storming
a few hours ago.
Storming like the way you stormed
out of the room after watching me
dance and let go
even when she was sitting right
next to you.
And your eyes were fixed on me
like i was the best thing
you could have had.
Until you realized i would not
be in your bed that night.
I let go of you like the sky
let go in the dead of night
and never looked back.

You couldn't even cut the tension in
the air with a knife
because of how thick it was.
You and I have managed
to make the air around us concrete.
And here I was
trying to grow flowers
in the cracks,
even though me and you
really knew how to poison
those flowers
until they could grow no longer.

Before you go on to break my heart you should know:
These walls are made of brick and they will not
fall, no matter how awful the trauma is.
This heart has been shattered plenty of times,
but it has been put back together every single time,
by no one other than myself.
I have fought many different wars for many years.
Let me tell you that if you even think you are capable
of tearing down my castle,
you can't.
I have built this house so strong
that even the strongest storm
will not tear it down.
This house was built from
storms and it will never
be destroyed by one.

the people around me
don't understand what it's like
to be stuck living in
what seems like the smallest town in
the world
with a mind and dreams bigger
than the whole galaxy.
it feels like suffocating.
like each day passing I'm going
deeper into the water.
only hoping to one day
be set free.

I can always find a silver lining.
There was never a struggle that I couldn't handle.
But I cant handle this.

Growth is suppose to make you feel lost
it's suppose to make you feel scared.
But should it suffocate you?
Why do I feel like I am dying when I should be moving forward?

Dear God please tell me I am not dying.

Why is my life ending when it should be starting?
Their whispers ring in my ears through the night,
they wake me up at 7 A.M.

why the **** are you guys screaming at 7 A.M?

Please go back to bed.
We don't have to drown if we are not awake.
We can live in our dreams.
You are still smiling in my dreams.
I am still smiling in my dreams.
When I am awake I am dying.

How am I already ******* dying?

The slowest
most painful
death you will ever have
is wanting someone
who doesn't want you.

It’s almost like you are stitched into my blood stream
someone took a needle and thread you through my body
and even though we don’t speak anymore
your ghost follows me
do you ever think about it?
I should’ve asked you when I had the chance
Because when I cut you out of me
I didn’t stitch it up right.
I am left with no answers
and bleeding wounds
for the rest of my life.
Hoping the body will do what
it’s suppose to do
and mend itself.
But wounds won’t heal
if you keep ripping them open.
And I’m not sure I
cut all of you out of me
when I had the chance.

but maybe I didn’t want to.

Was she worth it?
Was I not enough for you?
How sad that motel 6 must’ve been
At 4 pm on a Sunday afternoon.
Did your clothes smell like her when you left?
I can’t even look at you
Because all I can see
Is someone else’s hands all over
Your body.
Was she worth it?
Did you need to **** her to feel something?
I should’ve listened the first 8 million times
I can’t escape this burning feeling in my chest
I want to rip my heart out of
My body
I want to feel nothing.
I hope she was ******* worth it.

People don't tell you sadness
weighs a thousand pounds.

This time last year I wore a mask,
Saturday nights started to ruin my life
And you tried to convince me you loved me.
You now have my phone number blocked
Because I found someone else to show me
What love feels like.
It shouldn’t feel like flames burning
And destroying everything around you.
It’s flames burning on the inside,
Burning in your chest
To keep you warm through January.
I was blind.
You had blinded me with so much alcohol
On those Saturday nights
To try and convince me it was right.
But I knew it wasn't in our cards.
And you still hate me for it
To this day.

I wonder why as humans we try so hard for so long.
we work and we destroy ourselves for things
that never seem to work out in the end
but we keep trying.
it's hope.
hope is going to **** us.
it's that little thing in our hearts and brains that tell us to keep going
when we're already worn down and torn up to the bone.
it tells us go try one more time
give it one more shot.
hope is going to **** us.

Snakes are sneaky
they slither through the grass
without making a sound.
When they bite
it is deadly.
Your words come out like venom
goes into my bloodstream
and nearly kills me.
The only difference is
you do it by making a lot of sound.
Yelling.
You like to yell.
But so do I.
Are my words venom to you as well?
Just before I die, you apologize.
I start breathing again
and I think you do too.
But everyone knows we do this
every weekend
and Snakes never just bite once.

you are going to build your walls so high
and one day you will meet someone who
you'll let tear your walls down
and then one day they will wake up and change their mind
and it will feel like the ground is going to break
underneath you with each step you take
and you'll not want to wash your clothes or sheets ever again with the fear that
you're washing them out.
and you'll feel like you're going to die.
but the sun will shine again one day and your walls will build themselves back up.
you will be okay.

how many times a day
do you close your eyes
and say
"there will be leaves
and flowers on the trees again."
reminding yourself that
it doesn't rain forever.
but it's been cloudy for at least
3 months and you can't
remember the last time
the sun showed through
your eyes.

I thought to myself,
"I can't be with him, because
I am in love with someone else."
And I did not come up with this conclusion
because I was waiting for that someone
to come around.
I knew that wasn't going to happen.
But I did it because it would not be fair.
I would lay with him at night
and wish he was that other someone.
While he had soft skin
and lips
just like that other someone,
I would still only imagine it being
that someone.
And I constantly thought
to myself
"I can't do that to him."
Yes, he puts stars in my sky,
but the stars of that other
someone burned so much brighter
in that same sky.
I just can't seem to let him go.

She mean't that much to you

Even though you spent months

years

convincing me it was nothing.

I was stupid to think that maybe for once

just once

I would come first.

Because I'm different right?

Or were you always seeing her eyes

every time you looked into mine?

Duty is an act of violence put on is the second we are born into the world.

The second I picked up the crown I was covered in blood that belonged to no one but myself. The throne looks right at me. The sword lays at my side. It bore my name long before I took my first breath. There is one rule and I will follow it to my grave.

Despite all of my attempts I have never been healer. I blame my ****** up parents. I hurt people and they leave and I am alone in a room full of silence. I sing to try and forget, but it does not work.

There is a home waiting for me with someone else, in a town I want to breathe in. I will leave this town quietly and at night I will tremble but he reaches over and touches me like a prayer for which no words exist.

In my nightmares the one who hurt me says “I love you” and all of a sudden my anger feels like a curse. I don’t know if I was born with anger in my veins or if it stuck after a while but, it’s all I have.

Being alive is a sin. My anger is a sin. God taught me guilt when I was about nine. I haven’t let it go since. I will die tired and when I go I will go somewhere good. I hope it’s good because hell is nothing but doubt, which I’ve felt my whole life.

Let me be free.

I lay in bed at night asking the ceiling “but how can I sleep with all of this blood on my hands and the weight of the world in my head?”

I carry my father’s secrets
Like 1000 pound weights
On each shoulder
Every day.