I feel like I'm drowning
But I can see others breathing

And somehow
That's my fault

It's like if I could just learn to be normal
Everything would be okay

And back to the drowning thing;
It's like I'm just inches from the surface
But I don't have the energy to reach it

But I also feel like I'm burning
And freezing
All at once

I know that makes no sense,
But it's like being so cold,
Your insides are on fire

I feel like I'll never be enough
Like everything is pointless
And I have no energy
But I can't sleep at night

Like,
I haven't been posting
On this site
Because I couldn't find the strength
But now I'm posting
In a last attempt to hold on

And it feels like being sick
Like, you know you're going to die
And you know it will be soon
You just don't know when

And it's pointless
I'm pointless
Life is pointless
Everthing is pointless

And I don't know what to do

I'm dying,
Please,
Someone help me...

This is how I feel
I don't know what it is
But this is how I feel

(I'm so sorry)

you can't explain to someone how it's always raining
you know how hard it's poured for the last year
only you know how many times you've fallen and the water is ankle deep
don't you dare try to explain to someone who is only sunshine that you're drowning
the water is everywhere and they never knew you didn't know how to swim
don't bother telling them
they couldn't ever understand
people keep telling you to stand up they repeat it over again and again
stand up they say it's not that deep
but only you know how the water has built up inside you and only a cut can relieve the pressure
but you're five months clean and you just have to battle the ocean waves which are stronger than you
one day you might be stronger than the raging waves but as of tonight you are not
so I'd learn how to swim if I were you

You are the sun and the moon
that wrap around my wrists
as you, walk me
to a place of pure happiness
The light that shines through your smile
guides me to safety
You are the beauty in everyday I live
The toes that curl in the dirt will always be ours
The songs we chirp to the birds will carry on
as you walk by
the roads we talk on, always let yourself find me
For you are my light and I am yours
I treasure the gold you have filled in my veins
but we as one are priceless

the tightnessofthechest

  the d i z z i n e s s

the SCARES AND JUMPS.

  the inhale and the e
                                      x
                                         h
                                              a
                                                 l
                                                     e.
the t e a
          rs of failure
and worry.

**hopelessness, and doubt.

women and girls,
boys nor men
could bring me such glory in such filthy sin.

breathe in
tears out
only freaks know what I'm talking about.

I had no choice
due to my lovers abandonment,
so I found a guilty pleasure that was heaven sent.

speak again sea
the ears inside
cannot hear
the certain dark sound

within you
(almost)

as shifts
almost

the air of your lungs
to rise through
dusted night of sleep

and

in certain care
the darkness of your spoken–keep

I lain in a half-sleep, hearing my grandmother's voice.

When she died, I was jobless,
sleeping on her couch,
and a few months out of the ward.

My mental instability helped me lose friendships, love, and my identity.

I used to hope death would touch me
and I did not know why I wanted it to.

Death instead touched her,
drifting like a gas, underneath her door,
into her lungs, erasing consciousness
like lavender being blown by the wind,
into marked a detergent bottle.

I lain in a half-sleep, hearing my grandmother's voice.

A blue shock spread throughout me,
like the ocean swallowing animals
and forcing them to adapt.

I began drowning in water that looked like gas station slushee,
my ribcage hugging frantic gelatin organs,
beating alongside the spindle of time.

I lain in a half-sleep, hearing my grandmother's voice.

My carcass became Sun-kissed from the burning of change --
my grandmother died before I could succeed:
my grandmother died before she could see me live.

I crawl through the coarse, wheat-dyed sand,
hoping the blood I trail can be measured in her love.

I hope to make her proud, to learn to work hard,
then harder and harder and harder.
To become fully healthy,
to become what she stayed by my side for.

One of the few.

I lain in a half-sleep, hearing my grandmother's voice.

She said she was proud of me.
It probably was me and not her,
but at least someone is proud.

you are eighteen and you're in love
with a boy who hates his birthday.
you don't know it yet,
but the world gets so much bigger than the back of his car.
you think he needs you to be happy and so does he
but both of you are wrong.
it'll take you almost a year to stop crying.
and then you don't talk for another three
and when you finally do,
he thinks he still knows you,
but your heart is heavier than it was then.
and you **** him because you're lonely
but it isn't the same.
neither of you can fake love.
at least he still makes you laugh.
you'll pretend it's enough
because at least he's a body.
at least you're not by yourself.
at least you're alive
and you're good at *******.
because bodies are distractions
from the things we hide inside them.
you have him inside you
and he wants to gut you of your ugly, your sad.
he scrambles for an excuse not to stay the night
and you laugh.
you know what this is and how it goes
and you both love someone else.
you swear you won't **** him again
but you do anyway because you're still lonely
and you like the way his hands fit around your neck.
you **** him because it's good for your art
and you get bored of your own hands on your body
and you're fine with letting him feel useful.
and you think about when you were sixteen
and how *** was supposed to be special
and it makes you cry
because you're not who you wanted to be.
it makes you cry, because the world got so much bigger
after you left the backseat of his car.
the world is so big and you don't know
how it ended up on your shoulders.
you would have died for him.
you have been ready to die for every person you have ever loved.
you have dreams where he dies
and you can't save him.
you have dreams where people die
and you can't save them
and you're the one who tied your hands.
your mangled heart and all its bleeding.
nobody asked you to die.
what good is all the love in your chest
if you don't leave any for yourself?

- m.f.