Please someone come hold me
It's cold here, I'm lonely
Trapped in this house
Please just get me out

I am so broken...
...I'm two shards away from gone

you left me here.
sometimes I wonder,
wonder if you still care.

when its two in the morning,
do you ever think of me?
or maybe just how wasted
your friends are.

so many words late at night,
you were there for me.
i don't understand,

you became a friend.
if
i didn’t scare you,
and neither did my embarrassed affection,
what did?
what made you go?

i understand you couldn’t stay,
but you’re not just far away,
you cut me off your map.

wasn’t a huge part of that
to make you
a better person?

so why now,
are you being
the *******
they warned me
you were,
but i never knew you to be.

Cut open

Me

Found

The scared little girl

I didn't want

To be seen

If I'm faking

Okay

Enough

Will I be

Fine

oh what a pity
waste of mind
but decent body
brain decayed
but fun to play

      shh, don't talk
shh, don't talk      
      let me see you
let me see you      

((body parts
never a whole
only parts
broken apart
the thoughts
as worthless as
the dying heart))

shame all those
craveable curves
are wasted on *her

My chapped lips are chipping apart
From the weight of the insults I hurl
Tossed with sloppy accuracy
Like a pointless drunken game of darts

Soon they're peeled back so far
They reveal my rotting smile
Teeth as black as the words slurred
My tongue heavy, thick like tar

And my loud mocking laugh rings out
Coughing up blood and contagion
Cancer becomes me or I it
From the endless nonsense I spout

Blood.
Blood. Blood. Blood.
Blood. Blood.
Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood.
Blood. Blood. Blood.
Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood.
Blood. Blood.
Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood.
Blood. Blood. Blood.
Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood.
Blood. Blood.
Blood. Blood. Blood
Blood.

Maybe I'm not much,
But I'll give you all of me
When you ask.

I started having dreams
again, I hate dreams,
they are a mockery
of my reality.
But once I decide something,
as indecisive as I am, I
don't get derailed easily.
I suppose my dreams know
I'm hooked, and that's
why they've returned.
I wake up empty
because I hate fake, and
that's all the dreams are.
I open my eyes
and they water with longing,
as they're fueled by desire
that leaves me ever wanting
when I wake. People tell me
I should practice restraint, stop
wearing my heart on my sleeve.
They're right, I know.
I have a brutal habit of leaving
pain in my wake and with me
everywhere heartbreak I take.
I barely sleep as it is,
now I'm afraid to. I'm afraid
of the dreams
and what I want
because for two people
to want the same thing...
well that never quite happens
with me.

~

I've had my heart broken so many times,
I think maybe I just like to see myself hurt.

If I saw you in the hall tomorrow,
Would you have the gall to say hello?

how             do i
find something to love
about the girl i see in
the mirror when
she is still
**me

When I don't sleep bad things happen
But I've insomnia

Babe,
your name
has always looked
loveliest
written
in red.

she spends her days
walking into walls
hoping to fall into arms that intercept her
rather than
fall
collapse
on the ground
bleed
get up
again
walk
crash
burn
fall
collapse
bleed
get up
again
but to ask for him
is too much of a burden on him
her thoughts are poison
home is a petri dish
to add
to spoil
with her infection
she is an infectious disease
or so she believes
her soul
has caught a black cancer
consuming what was once left
of her light
brilliance
joy
innocence
on occasion
sparks of joy
illuminate her life
but promptly burn out
no one gives her much to live for
there are a select few who give her
teases and tastes
of love
of hope
but so many years have gone by
and she's been left all this time without a meal
forget anorexia nervosa she's starved
of affection
of authenticity
and it's not her at fault
or it might be
either way it's herself she blames
she doesn't see who will miss her
yes
her funeral will be attended
and for a few weeks they might
talk and speculate
but all within a month
she knows
she'll be forgotten
the only brief
fleeting
memory
that she took her own life
she can't take the emptiness
despair
needs a reason to persist
but thinking
looking for one drives the inner pessimist
she can't find a reason to stay
how appropriate
because no one ever stayed
not even him
she now waits for a reason enough
to run from her latest hope
waits for it to backfire so she can say
she's done
book it and run
straight to her blade
only this time not take care to
hide
but forget to care and
die

When I was younger                                              
And more ignorant
                                              And blindly happy
I read
The Perks of Being a Wallflower

Now that I'm older
And unceasingly depressed
It all
Makes so much more
Sense