I could write something about not being able to find the right words
I was honestly planning on it,
I'm not so good with language
for someone who calls himself a poet

nevertheless, I am a believer in definitions
and surprisingly enough
I like words

I dress everything up in adverbs and poetic devices
still,
usually the things that make me happy don't make very good poems

although I'd still like to try for you

immortalising this feeling in any descriptor I can pull
out to describe it

I like making things pretty, especially with words
like I make myself look pretty when I know I might run into you

on the off-chance that you might notice
I sparkle when I see you
it's not just the glitter, either

I'm not wearing any blush, it's all natural

there's this thought in my head
a foreboding that it might turn bad

just like I might **** you off so bad that
I start to look more appealing to punch than the drywall

having said that, it doesn't really matter,
I'm always scared

you wouldn't hurt me like that

I trust you enough
to fall asleep next to you
because I know I won't wake up with knife marks

I trust you enough to be vulnerable, to be mentally ill

to tell you,
I'm not a normal kid
I'm not healthy

but know that you're not just an extension of my recovery

you're not my ego-boost machine
or a stuffed toy for nothing but empty affection

I really like you
the things you do,
the way you talk so posh

I want to be with you
the way you are with me,
the way you're so sweet and patient

I want to be better with you
to not be so much

don't misunderstand,
I don't depend on you

I can breathe on my own
and my heart doesn't stop when you go home in the morning

but I'd much rather sync my heartbeat with yours

and rest my pretty little head on your chest while I fall asleep

flipping tables and throwing computers out of windows,
thats me!

I love breaking monotony up into tiny pieces

trying to jump out of the window
the carnage begins as you hold me back,

"don't ******* touch me,"

I scream so loud
like an air raid siren telling you to get to a shelter before the bombs start dropping

like a rattlesnakes jittering tail,
this is your warning

because if you don't let go

I'll break your ribs and your jaw

I want to keep every bone
that I've broken in a fit of rage

I want to wear your authority around my neck
like I do your teeth

I want to throw you into the bonfire

my peers cheering me on can be the wide-eyed children with sparklers,

I'll be the fireworks that you can hear blowing up from miles away

you can be the king that burns instead of of a guy

you can be the head teachers, my parents, the entire police department  

I'll be defiant
foul-mouthed
and disrespectful

I want to be the problem child

god knows
I love getting angry

I'll burn this school to the ground

it'll burn for days and days

I'm a forest fire

every step I take is arson

a 7 day
is the only day
I can get into heaven

46 times a year
(not including the whole of july)
I'm allowed to try

7, 17, 27

lucky numbers

I didn't think I'd make it through 2017
a year of free passes
to let the angels walk me down the aisle
and marry me to the sky

on a 7 day
they- the angels-
will calm my trembling and convulsing body
clean up all of my *****
take out the part of my brain that makes me feel bad
grab hold of my bleeding wrists and bandage them with feathers and love

they hold my hands
lifting me up by the grace of god herself
and 700 eyes emerge
out of every wound and pore in my skin

and I become
my own angel
my own god

I will become
my own holy number 7

"I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead;
I lift my lids and all is born again.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

The stars go waltzing out in blue and red,
And arbitrary blackness gallops in:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.

I dreamed that you bewitched me into bed
And sung me moon-struck, kissed me quite insane.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

God topples from the sky, hell's fires fade:
Exit seraphim and Satan's men:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.

I fancied you'd return the way you said,
But I grow old and I forget your name.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

I should have loved a thunderbird instead;
At least when spring comes they roar back again.
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)"

my heart isn't beating
its dying and resurrecting itself with more volts than it takes to power a whole highstreet
a thunderstorm of rebirth-
of hope
and of faith

transmigration,
between the you I see and the you I think I see

I turned the volume down as quiet as I could,
like I was protecting a secret

like I was the one confessing
and you were the jury

before I think to press play I calm myself
control my breathing
and
read with stable, steady
dilated pupils

what you have to say

it buzzes around my chest like glowflies
and I think about your voice

and I press the button

and I feel the electricity,
the lighting bolts,
before
I fall down on my bed
while
the eye of the storm
passes over

and I can't stop smiling