my biggest regret in life
is the way I took
my happiness for granted
when it was at large
and how I failed
to chase after it
with my whole soul,
my eyes,
and both my feet
when it began
to run away

he calls himself
an addict
but hasn't touched
a needle
in three years
if you ask him why
he'll say
"once a cheater
always a cheater
even if you
cheat once
and spend
your whole
life single"

so close
I can almost
taste it at
the bottom
of my
ceramic
teacup,
on any given
Thursday
afternoon

yet so far
away
I can see
the details
in the moon
with less strain
on certain
Sunday
evenings

you asked me what i was hiding
as i stood in your door way
naked
with my arms
wrapped around my ribs;

i smiled lightly and
dropped them to my sides

i know you thought

i was insecure
but i never told you
that i was just

trying
to feel my stomach
turning
or my heart racing,

warmth from my limbs

or a shortness of breath
from the tightening
of them-

any reassurance
that i hadn't
gone

completely

numb,

because that look in
your eyes
used to make

my palms
sweat
and my spine
straighten

but
lately
all i feel
is
this
eerie
exhaustion

she said
she doesn't
need to smile
to remind her that
she's happy
and she doesn't
need a kiss on
the forehead to
remind her that
she's pretty
but she'll
take either
on any given day
then she laughed
lightly
and leaned in my way

we sang along to the same
ten songs, until we thought
we found solutions to problems
we didn't know we had
we hid our fear under
mohawks & dreadlocks
and stitched our sadness
in with India ink
on our knee caps
and metal in our
faces

we looked pretty from the outside
but I remember the tears that swallowed
his blue eyes when he said
"i just hope for his sake,
next time he dies"
because addiction was a pain
none of us knew how to mend
and it left a hole right through us,
no amount of music could fill

when i was five my mom
used to tell me
that it was all fun
and games until
someone got hurt;
i don't think she knew
at the time just how familiar
i'd be with that concept
by the time i was
nineteen

i stopped getting memorial tattoos
after the sixth one,
and i stopped trying to quit
chain smoking when i finally realized
we were all gonna die

blood red hair
and blood shot eyes
i know how love feels
when it sighs a worn out
goodbye

I have songs on my phone
that remind me of my father
I listen to them on the longest rides home
in December,
They keep me warm
when my car is ready
To surrender
To the winter
And I have songs on mixed CD's
that remind me of my ex boyfriend
I listen to them on the
way to class at nine in the morning
They tell me that I'm worthy
of love, even if Love wanders
There are songs on the radio
that have woken me up
five days out of the week
for four years straight
and songs that have cradled me to sleep,
just the same

I don't need you to sing into my voice mail
or string together notes that sound
like my hands feel
But
If you sit beside me long enough,
I'll hear your laugh in
a Bright Eyes song at
Seven in the morning
Just when I feel like
I can hardly go on
You'll surface beneath my chest
And sing into my lungs
Until I catch my breath...
*If you sit beside me long enough

Vulnerable enough to love everyone
but never naive enough to
expect anyone to love me
Because
I sat on her front porch
and rubbed her back
for three hours,
drove home in the rain
when the morning came
Never heard from her again

i
think
i
must've
dropped
my
ambition
on its
head,
soon
after
its
birth
cause
it
tells
me
all
about
how
it's
gonna
grow
up
to
be
big
and
str...
but
it
falls
asleep
in
mid
sentence

well I guess
that's the thing
about darkness,
it's not just part
of our surroundings
at midnight
on a tuesday
in the summer
or at 6 a.m
on a wednesday
in the winter.
it's more than that,
we can feel it
and sometimes it crawls
into bed with us
while we're staring
at the white walls
that cling to
old photographs
hung with tacs
of people who never
bother to call anymore
but then sometimes
it comes spiraling
toward us,
to knock the air
out of our lungs
and the wine glass
out of our hands
at 11:08 on a saturday
that's when it's hard,
when there are twenty
people smiling in a busy
room filled to the brim
with music and stories
and suddenly
all we can think to do is
stare down at our feet
and hope it'll leave us be

we talked all about how
"all good things must come to an end"
but we never spoke of the bad things
sitting like stagnant waters
in the pits of our stomachs
for we feared the words
swishing around inside us
were too sharp
to pass over
our soft
tongues

I'm afraid of losing you
I'm afraid that I already have
I'm afraid that if I never had you
I'd fade away from day to day
In a consistent stream of apathy
I'm afraid of the dryness in my throat
every morning at five am
I'm afraid of the cigarette between my fingers
an hour later
I'm afraid of the quivering in my hands
When I run out of coffee
I'm afraid of my closet
I'm afraid of the sizes in my clothes
I'm afraid of the way my friends think
I'm afraid that they don't think at all
I'm afraid of the drugs in their cabinets
I'm afraid of the drugs in their veins
I'm afraid of the silent pain that is too often
conveyed in a stranger's eye
I'm afraid of the people I work for
I'm afraid that they don't know how to love
I'm afraid of love
I'm afraid of my bedroom
I'm afraid of every man who's slept in it
I'm afraid of the people who
don't have the things they need
Equally afraid of the ones that have everything
They want
I'm afraid that nothing out here is right
I'm afraid that I made it that way
And I'm afraid that this fear
Just isn't enough to make me change my ways

too many mornings i laid in your bed,
pretending to sleep, with your sheets
pulled up over my head
because i was afraid of what
you'd think if you saw my
naked face

and too many afternoons
i held my arms crossed
over my rib cage
hoping no one would see
how stupid i could be,
thinking if i drained the blood
from my veins or spilled
my guts into the sink,
maybe i'd start to shrink

and too many nights i cried
in the bathroom with all of my
clothes on, in front of the shower,
because i was afraid to feel my thighs
touch under the water

i spent too many hours
forcing my collar bones
out of my chest,
never stopping to notice
my life as it fell
away from me
with the rest

there will never be enough time
to have a meaningful conversation
with every person and that
hurts the most on winter mornings
and summer nights when i could
swear the whole world is silent,
overflowing in a pensive state,
wondering if being alone is really
lonelier than being surrounded by
people who will never hear their stories
or recognize their voices

I used to use this weather
as an excuse to wear a sweater
I'd pull the sleeves down over
my wrists, smile & say I was
feelin better but the sun
always made a liar out of me
that a hospital trip could
hardly appease
Well, I can't say that I'm okay
And I won't say that I've been saved
But there's a song playing
in the back of my head
that says don't you ******* dare
And when my friends sing along
I can't help but to care

I spend my Mondays mostly wishing I did more with the happiness I was given because it seems so far from me now & I'm not sure when I'll see it again

You left crumbs in the butter dish
And empty cereal boxes in the cupboard
You left all the lights on
And the bed unmade
You left the ash tray full
And your hair on the floor
Of the shower
You left my tank top hanging over the lamp
Where you threw it
You left your belt on your jeans
When you dropped them
Carelessly
Into the hamper
You left poems
All over my thighs
In Sharpie marker
You left fresh coffee
On my dresser
And kisses
On my forehead
And then you left
Me
Desperately craving all of it
And not knowing how to live
Without it

One day you'll hear a song
for the very first time
and it will fill you with nostalgia
You'll say it makes no sense at all
But you can hear it playing
in the background of your
entire life somehow

One day you'll meet someone
for the very first time
and you'll feel at home
You'll say it makes no sense at all
But you can see that smile
in every wrinkled picture on
the walls of your old bedroom

One day you'll wake up in a place
that you've been in for the past four years
And you'll feel lost
You'll say it makes no sense at all
But you just don't know if you belong

I can't imagine how
having art under my skin
makes me *****,
but I can imagine how
lacking art inside your heart
makes you angry

you've got a fresh pack
of cigarettes you wanna
burn, i've got some old
bridges ready for the same
the tank is full, our hearts
have been running on E
so let's get lost in this
bright day until we
remember how to
find our way

do you know how many times
it wasn't funny anymore
but you kept laughing
anyway

brace laced teeth
and an operation ivy t-shirt
converse dressed feet
and a scared look on
his pale face
all alone
tracing street lamps
with his fingertips
all the way from
philly to scranton
he's sketching tattoos
he swears he's gonna
get some day
when things are finally
going his way
and i don't have the heart
to say that most things
stay the same
he reminds me
of everything
i was and all the
things that made me
cry, when i was fourteen
and already a nervous wreck
i said "hey kid you like OP IV?"
and he smiled so wide
i thought the metal in his
mouth was gonna pierce his cheeks
oh i just
hope he doesn't
end up an anxious mess
like all my ***** friends and i

we're such destructive little things
we can't be trusted with beauty
we destroy ourselves to feel better
so why wouldn't we destroy each other?
if i crush your spirit or your bones,
just know
please just know
i meant to help you all along
we just can't ever figure out
how to be delicate
with the things we love
there's just too much
too much i'm willing to do
to feel for you

We danced through an other back yard show tonight. You disappeared a half a dozen times, as you always do. You're notorious for that but hey, at least you've got something inside you that makes us notice when you're not beside us. Sometimes I wonder if I have that too. All I know is that no one comes looking for me every month that I hide away in my room. Well I felt especially empty these past few months. I've been plugging all of these shallow holes with needles & ear phones. I'm trying to escape the chaos of this place. I wanna go somewhere that makes it easier to pretend that you're there with me because when I look into every pair of red eyes around me, I can see that they're searching for something & they know that they won't find it in this crowd of misfits throwing punches in mosh pits, still they dance on & on & on. But I've lost the sense of independence and strength that this scene requires and I want to believe in something deeper cause on the surface this looks perfect & this looks pleasantly violent & cool & I know there are kids who look at us through the corners of their eyes & wish they had friends who dressed like mine but I don't feel like a part of this anymore. I can't live as an observer. I wanna have more to my name than "wallflower". I want a brand new reason to have ink poured under my skin. I love these people so ******* much it's horrifying but I know that when I step outside of this basement I'll still be just as ****** up in the sunlight as I was under the moon & that's not how I want to live anymore. I'm queer & I guess that's why I'm here but I need something better, I need something more