I see stars in your eyes
A passion, burning like a wildfire
And I am a forest.

Blood wells up
Beauty in red
Stay strong, they say
You will not sink.

How can I explain
These stripes keep me strong?
Blood is vital to life
And so
I bleed for a reminder
It shows I'm alive.

Don't tell me I'm beautiful
I cannot listen
I will not believe you

Prove it to me
Make your eyes reflect my soul
Show me with your hands
Sculpt a picture with your voice
Create something out of the shattered remains
Of a mirror, of my mind

nobody likes pretty anymore,
they want the dirt and the grime,
they don’t want anything to rhyme,
they want bodies washed up on the shore.
all they ever want to see are bruises,
people put to death with stones,
cars running over orange highway cones,
the sadness of the long lost muses.
they want blood and gore and death,
they want crosses and flowers beside the road,
if you gave them pretty they’d implode,
because they exhale beauty with every breath.
that’s probably why they like me so much,
because I wear dead things as a cloak,
but it’s faux fur and it’s making me choke,
making my skin burn with every touch.
but they love that ****, they eat it for breakfast,
they use my battle wounds to decorate,
all they seem to do is hate,
my dying body is their aesthetic.
they’re the opposite of a welcoming committee,
they only want you if you’re broken,
they use you as “my friend is depressed!” token,
but all you wanted was to feel pretty

placement
position the artefact
location, love and broken back
tear open
sanitise the heart attack
this was where we used to build
this is where the blood was spilled

arraignment
(all) time and space
now lost to black
spoken
sanitise the heart attack
this was where i lost my pills
this is where i almost killed

There can't be anything better,
than fresh baked banana bread
filling the air on a sunday,
bright red hair dye staining my arms,
only after it dripped off
my mothers head and made
a home in my pores.
There can't be anything much better,
than quality time with a pen,
scratching against paper
like a dog to a screen door,
that hasn't been opened for too long.

I'm just now learning
how to open my windows again,
after locking them tight,
to hide from fresh air
because who wanted that
when you weren't there?
Who wanted sunlight to
touch skin that you now refused to?
I'm just now realizing
that you were only a mere beginning.
You left because you'd
done what you were meant to,
you helped an injured sparrow to fly,
after putting a splint on it's
fractured wings, and nursing it
back to true liveliness.
You did what you could
to make an old soul smile,
even when you couldn't.

I'm just now learning what it means
to live on my own again,
live without worrying about
who is there to help me next,
because you made me realize
that somethings can only be
done by yourself, and to take
pride in not needing anyone's help.
Tonight I fly on my own,
and take pride in the fact,
that I don't need anyone to catch me.

I'm just now realizing the dangers
of entering someone else's home,
and then trying to call it your own.
Someday they'll want that privacy back,
and who are you, to tell them no?