I used to dream in back and white before you came and handed me a brush.

My canvas was always white for I told myself that I couldn't paint.

You told me that I was blind and that I wasn't who I set myself to be.

I used to dream in black in white until you showed me who I am.

You make me feel so good
with all your touching and kissing, but I don't know if I want you.
I don't know if I want anybody I'm just so used to being alone until you came along and confused me.

You and I
Me and you
us together,
what can be better?

My pen is a blade and the paper is my skin, my words cut deep as the blade does my wrist.

I'm an Adventurer,
I was born to travel this world
I shouldn't be tied down

I need to be free.

I have to be prepared
to set sail and explore
the deepest and the darkest,
the highest and the lightest
parts that this World has to offer me.

I admire you deeply
every note, every sound.
I have never been in love
simply just loved,
I don't know
what it feels like
to be in love
but I feel like I'm all too
familiar to the feeling
every time I put on my headphones.

Time freezes as I trace my fingers in patterns along the crevices of your skin, I crave you in the most innocent way possible. I want to touch you in places where my hands can not, I feel high off of your vibes.

This silence speaks more languages than words can ever understand, I'm losing myself.
You run through my mind and seep into my veins. Lately I've been craving you even more than usual, and you break my heart every night you fall apart. Just let me be your everything. I want to hold you close, skin on skin, hear every breath you inhale and exhale, and let our heartbeats have a conversation. I can't do anything but keep on loving you.

I see a clean piece of skin, please let me drag a blade through it my mind is telling me, "Come on you won't feel a thing.", even though I knew I was going to bleed. I lied to myself once again.
The pain was just so beautiful even though it lasted for a second, it was worth that small moment of happiness.

I'm so ugly... but I really miss who I used to be.

I miss my clear lungs, not the ones that are presently black and filled with cigarette smoke.

I miss my clean wrists, not the ones that are now filled with tally marks.

I miss my mind that was once cleanly open minded and free to the world around me, not the one that now sees into 4th dimensions with drugs that are ******* me up.

I miss my fat thighs, not the ones that are still fat, but that now have countless scars across them.

I just really miss who I used to be.

I smile and laugh simply to make everyone else happy, but why am I not truely happy?

Why do I cry myself to sleep, and why am I filled with scars and bruises?

I wish I didn't feel like this, why can't this pain be a choice so that I can chose not to feel like this.

Why can't I be normal and not be sad all the time, and why can't I just love myself?

Why?

I know how it feels to break down (I'm all too familiar to it) I know what it feels like to cry in the shower so no one can hear you.

I know how it feels to wait for everyone to fall asleep just so you can cry yourself to sleep.

I know exactly what it feels like to hurt so bad and just wanting everyone to go away and everything to end.

I know.

I am dying, a slow and painful death it feels as if life is testing me with every single breath.

I wish I was a flower; such a beautiful sight to see, much too alluring and dandy that to be picked off the ground to die immediately. Oh I wish I was a flower be so wild and carefree for a short amount of time then die instantly.

I remember you told me how I looked so alive in the smoke I exhaled, you also told me I had such a beautiful smile that you wished would never go away and that you hope to soon see again, I wandered what you meant by that because I see you everyday, until I heard you committed suicide the very next day.

My mind is a tornado, a chaotic jumbled mess and every time I think of you my heart jumps out of my chest. Every breath I take, oh I swear darling it's for you because the only reason I'm sure I'm still living is all because of you.

It's better to feel nothing,
I always feel like I'm drowning
So I pop a couple pills
to feel a kick of something.
The things I do to stay alive,
yet everyday feeling
like I rather die.

I inhaled it wishing it would **** me,
although I'm already dead.
I crawled into the deepest, darkest parts of my head and came to conclusion that my cigarettes are better for me than you ever were.

He wore nothing other than black even in the summer, his crystal blue eyes reflected ocean-hues and had jet black ink that could slightly be seen under the sleeve of his tattered and torn Rolling Stones tee. That boy, he was quite a mystery, had the body language of a jigsaw puzzle not wanting to be mended, although it was all opaque to me, others saw him impenetrable, however, I read him like my favorite book. This boy is exactly like me intelligent yet covert, impassive and esoteric yet a universe full of secrets and unspoken thoughts. It seemed as if his soul was somber and consumed nothing but vacuity. But I saw a masterpiece, a messily painted work of art, and that was the beauty of it. Others saw chaos on a canvas while I saw every watercolored hue that completed the exotic illustration that was, Luke.