They label you a lunatic
You answer back with stinging words!
All human ears cannot hear you!
Only actions are loud and clear!

Break my bones;
cut my throat.
Pull me open,
learn the ropes.

Breath me in;
taste the fear.
Shank my skin;
stand and cheer.

Kick my head;
let me bleed.
Unbolt my veins;
enjoy the read.

Gouge my eyes;
punch my face.
Wrap me up
in your embrace.

It's 11:11
and for the first time
after a very long time
I'm wishing for myself
and not for you

there are two types of sadness

there’s the kind of sadness
we ignore and
try to get rid of it
by finding new things to do
or we find someone to talk to
by blatantly avoiding any type of conversation
about feeling sad
about having any feelings at all
and then there’s that kind of sadness
that takes over
and it consumes any activity we do
we know it’s there
and there’s no possible way to avoid it
so we feed it exactly what it wants
it craves the sad music
it craves the isolation
it craves the anxiousness
and the sadness comes storming in
it has no manners
here we are calling sadness, an “it”
when all it is
is a feeling
that most people
call home

Take me apart
But don't keep me
On your windowsill

Push me from that ledge
And I'll dissolve into the dirt

Take a couple songs
But don't act like it's a thing
I knew that I was wrong
That's why I'm not selling t shirts

It is illegal to love me
It is wrong that you care
You can squirm and you can struggle
But I'm just
Very simply
Not
There.

sometimes, all you can do is feel small.
breath held, for the slightest exhale could be of the wrong tone—
just silence.
silence.
silence speaks louder than words, so, silence.
but even that— sometimes too sweet on the tongue, too many tablespoons of sugar.
silence too sweet like sugar cane stinging the back of your throat.
silence.
just silence.

you are... good.
good in a way i think i’ve forgotten how to be.