why are sad poems
easier to write than
happy ones

*(a.m.c.)

i wanted to document
the arches of your cupid's bow
onto a thousand polaroids
and plaster them on my ceilings.
i wanted to carve a renaissance sculpture
based on the image i had of you
imprinted in my brain,
make you out of marble
and put you in a castle.
i think that when i look into the sky
i see the same constellations
that sit in your eyes
and i believe that you have become
my worst habit,
worse than chain smoking
in parking lots
and worse than sleeplessness.
you are an addiction in a body,
a hurricane that swept me away.

*(a.m.c.)

take up space with your scabby elbows
and laughter-stained cheeks
say your name loudly and clearly,
and do not cover your mouth when you speak
because when
i lay my head on your chest
it sounds like hurricanes
are destroying houses
do i really make you feel that much?
because i am just a girl
with sadness in my bones
and a cigarette in my hand
and i cannot give you anything
but my emptiness and ache
love is crawling out of your pit
and walking on water
it's floating in air
and breathing deep
love isn't beautiful but something with teeth
it ripped through my flesh and ate me whole
it was killing me in the most lovely way
love was drowning
in a pool full of laughter
it was sinking sand
and car crashes
it was tragic and devastating
it was real

*(a.m.c.)

soon enough, baby, you will be okay
i know you'll learn to love yourself
just as i did, remember to breathe
take in joy and breathe out the pain.
i know things get bad
and don't hate yourself for that
give yourself time to truly feel everything
cry, scream, kick, and curse
because sometimes life hurts
after that though, laugh a little
it helps i promise.
take a shower and rinse, rinse, rinse
sometimes when you smell your clean body
you feel cleaner on the inside.
remember to eat, baby, i know it's hard
but i'm not there to remind you anymore
remember i love you, baby, i always will

*(a.m.c.)

your hands are gospel, writing history
with your fingertips and whispering
prayers up and down my spine
i called you my ravenous wildebeest, and i
said it with a smile painting my lips, but
you are everything wild,
thorny, and carnivore.
you're gonna eat me up with texas-sized
teeth and leave me a carcass in the
desert. but i don't mind
i want to be bone for you,
bare.
i think that maybe your bigness is going
to consume me
until i'm a star-soaked black hole
set me on fire, douse me in gasoline
make all the blood rush to my head
because kid, you're a firecracker
and i've always been in love with explosion.

*(a.m.c.)

i never wanted
to become that person
who uses a knife
to heal her wounds
but i have become
a mixture of
have's and have not's
and i'm so cluttered
that nobody wants
to clean up my pieces
and i'm so *****
but flowers don't grow
out of my skin
i am only mud
i am only weeds
i am only poison

*(a.m.c.)

sometimes pain is easier than vulnerability;
than weakness.
it's easier to pour alcohol into your open wounds
than to allow someone to stitch you up,
anesthetized.

*(a.m.c.)

You move closer to me like we're two tectonic plates
But I am Antarctica; frozen and endlessly distancing myself from you
And the sun.
You are Africa; cracked and sweltering
We are so far apart and you think you can understand me;
You can't read me like the atlas on your bookshelf;
There are no roadmaps to understand my brain.

*(a.m.c.)

there hasn't been a black hole
as big as the yellow-orange sun
inside of my chest and my stomach
and my ribs and my arms and my legs
until now.
it feels like it'll never go away
like it'll keep ******* inward and inward,
a vacuum cleaner or ocean tides,
it'll swallow everything whole
until i've disappeared.
i am a comet shooting across your sky
i'm brief and i'm on fire and i'm burning
and then in a blink of an eye

i'm gone.

*(a.m.c.)

there is a marathon inside of my head
each thought racing against the other
speeding like electricity for blue ribbons
and gold medals.
most of the time the winner is death
but sometimes a smile beats him in the last stride
but only sometimes.
i have bruised knuckles from the time
you told me i wasn't enough and the time
you laughed at my headache,
and sometimes the scars that cover my skin
could be braille that a blind person reads,
or morse code that says "HELP ME."

*(a.m.c.)

eat pills, drink medicine, breathe rocky wind
cold hands touching your throat
and wrapping fingers around your head
your fingertips are dead, and it reaches
through your veins and down your body
sternum ache
brain dead
broken bone
you act like it's normal,
everyone has death inside them
and everyone brings it out in the dark.
you can never go back to happiness
once you feel the pleasure of sadness.

*(a.m.c.)

how do you stop your throat from burning
from salty tear-stained gulps and gasps
for oxygen that is no longer there?
there is too much carbon dioxide in the air now
and i want to fast forward into a world
where i can breathe in sweet helium
and ask for it to stop.
because there are times
when it's impossible to breathe
and when my puffy red eyes
can't open more than a millimeter
because you have glued them shut
with your accusations.
i didn't want to be gas station concrete any longer
i didn't want dirtiness to be my middle name
i only wanted to cleanse myself of you and your fists,
you and your laughter
you and your hatred.
i wanted to be clean.

*(a.m.c.)

so, set my soul on fire
and let it be your beacon,
your lighthouse guiding this ship home.
but wait until i've conquered cities,
and stormed every gate,
i'm not done with this world yet.
and my fire hydrant eyes
can't douse every flame on your body,
i'm sorry i can't stop the burning.
i wanna be homeward bound,
i wanna be wrapped in gold,
i wanna be the sky,
and i can only do that when your starlet eyes
stop watching me like fireworks on the fourth of july.

*(a.m.c.)

the windows in my room have gone black and there are toxins in my throat
a brick wall replaced my heart in my chest, and even that is cracking
the neurons in my brain are all screaming at me, “you ****** up, you ****** everything up. you have destroyed yourself and everyone else with your tsunami and natural disaster.”
the ocean raging in my bones has been high tide since you came
and i’m drowning in my own sense of power

*(a.m.c.)

i am only a collection
of banged up passion
and a thousand cigarette butts
because i didn't know
you were so big
and i was supposed to be
so small
i thought i could take up space
but apparently i am the liquor
in your bottle
only a fluid that you drink
only something to give you warmth

*(a.m.c.)

do not ask me how i am
unless you want me to spill
coffee all over your lap
unless you want burnt lips
and bruised hands
do not tell me i'll be okay
because do you really think
my ***** hair and broken glasses,
my chipped tooth and poison mouth
are going to be okay?
do not romanticize smoking
a pack of cigarettes a day
do not pretend skinny
is beautiful
do not cut yourself
for attention
it's not the same
it's not the same

*(a.m.c.)

i poured you out like a ******* drink
now i swallow lakes
and get drunk off the sea.
i thought caterpillars became beautiful
inside their cocoons
but i've become a monster.
because bon iver songs and i love you's
won't last me through the winter;
drunk texts and goodbye's
won't cure me of this disease.
i need cold showers and rainy days,
five-hundred page books and mascara.
i'll cure myself,
thank you very much.

*(a.m.c.)

when i was fifteen i was a lion-hearted girl
with strong bones and love for myself that crossed seas
i carried myself with sunshine and a smile too big
played melodies on the piano and loved people too much

when i was fifteen i was an ashtray
my warmth was used for kindling and my love to put out fires
my skin started turning black and my heart breaking into pieces
i was still wild-eyed and good

when i was fifteen i was a punching bag
fists touched my ribs most days and fingernails scraped away
chipping at my exterior and tearing my seams to bits
i became cold and unbearing and ruthless, with teeth like a tiger

when i was fifteen i became nothing
buried into soil and left not to grow but to be scavenged
bones broken and unmended, parched lips and stony feet
underground, beaten and crying, dead

*(a.m.c.)

the first time, your fist touched my face
when i was checking the mail
the papercut on my finger couldn’t hold
against the black skin under my chin

the second time, your hand grabbed my arm
your fingers left marks
like toaster burn and clenching jaws
like you thought i was a wet rag
needing to be wrung out

the third time, turned into the fourth and fifth
my ribs couldn’t hold my lungs inside
and my wrist was torn of skin
claw marks complimented my arm
like a tattoo or a tiger’s rage

the sixth time was just like the first
all fist and cheek,
bone and tooth
this is not fight club
but we still do not talk about it.

*(a.m.c.)

i am my own worst critic
writing rave reviews that no one will read
about my imperfections
and my failures.
i am salt and gamma rays and cancer cells,
downgrading and shredding myself
like paper.
using my nails as sandpaper,
i scrape until i'm clean
until the filth i feel around my heart
has eroded.
yesterday i gave myself two out of five stars,
the day before that only one.
when will i grasp that i am five thousand golden stars
i am ocean and cloud and mist,
mountains to explore and skies to fly.
i am a created individual
a masterpiece in a beautiful museum.
i belong on the king's chair
and on the farthest side of the moon.

*(a.m.c.)

branches are blown
half-heartedly across the street;
your words flung
full-throttle at my face.
leaves are rustling
through the wind and rain;
heat exploding
from my body in this rage.
cars are crashing
on wet and muddy roads;
mind aching
inside this tired skin.

*(a.m.c.)

I am as hard as a diamond,
my edges are cut sharp into cubical quartz.
I harden and I process; you can strike me against a rock
and I will not shatter.
I don't shine like a diamond, I'm as dull as an old razor blade;
the remnants of sharpness are there
but who wants to shave with an old razor blade.

My dandelion hair flows with the breeze,
and the salty sweat from my head
makes the fragrance drift
like tentacles into the air.

I sit in corners and sift my brain,
searching for gold that is not there,
but constantly thinking and thinking and thinking;
I go crazy and turn into liquid,
I am the ocean turning and the high tide crashing into the shore.
I drift until I'm calm,
until I'm a rainbow fish in the sea,
swimming under sail boats and sea gulls
and wrinkled fishermen upset with their love lives.

My hands are question marks,
punctuation that I cannot answer, I cannot understand.
My toes curl and I cringe as I remember who I am,
the person that cannot be saved
or brought in with a lasso around my neck.

I am a half-finished metaphor and your deja vu,
you must be a sorcerer if you can make me love
like the old-fashioned movie screen.
My voice is raspy from the attempts at screaming my own name
in order to hear something,
to feel something in this empty cavity of a body.

I will dye my hair aquamarine and magenta
and all the colors with the fancy names,
before I make up my mind to understand anyone else.
I will fold myself in like a thousand paper cranes,
and paper cranes do not fly.
I will write on the walls of my insides that I do not need anyone,
until my brain memorizes my own handwriting.

*(a.m.c.)

genetically speaking you are a cluster of stars
a forest where people go to breathe
a crashing wind and interlaced fingers
on a hot summer day
you are sweaty palms
and a beating heart,
crashing and burning
because you are a comet
and everyone is wishing on you
thinking of shooting stars and big red bruises

genetically speaking i think i'm in love with you
because i'm alive on this small rock in the universe
hoping and breathing and wishing next to you
with wide eyes and hunger pains
i think i've swallowed the moon accidentally
because the pit of my stomach feels heavy
and my mouth is dry with unkissed kisses
sift through the dirt inside of my mouth
and maybe you will find
small flakes of gold

*(a.m.c.)

there's too much blood at my feet
where flowers won't grow
and i tried to fill the cracks in the soil
with glue and vaseline
but the ground reminded me of your lips,
split in four places and tasting like salt
i've let too much water leak from my body
so i started swallowing sand and dirt
hoping that trees would grow from inside me
and i could last longer than life
remember when you touched my hand
and lightning bolts shocked the hell out of me?
you were electric and kicking and screaming
i was the sea, raging and deep

*(a.m.c.)

you were a beautiful hero
and i fell in love
with safety.
you were home and heart and pulse
  beating
     beating
        beating.
you were golden and shining and charm
and i wore you
around my finger
  hoping
     hoping
        hoping.

i was electricity
destructive and
elusive.
i was a villain
worse than any
toothache.
i was twisted
caught up in
my tragedy.
i was your catastrophe
and darkness and nightmare.

you are good // i am bad

always
always
always

*(a.m.c.)

there were great lakes
pooling in the vibrations
of your voice
lake superior begged me
to love you
lake eerie screamed
and cried
and lake michigan lied
to my face.
they were too massive to overcome
and too swellingly deep to swim
i wanted to cross the lakes
from america to canada
and run across solid ground.
but a tide washed over me
and now i'm lost at sea
i didn't think you could ever
forget how to swim
but my muscles are weak
and the water so cold
and dreams so peaceful
that i think i'll just
let go.

*(a.m.c.)

my mom told me once
that i built up a wall around my heart
but what she doesn't know is
the great wall of china was built inside my rib cage
and there's a house with weeds growing on brick
inside of me.

*(a.m.c.)

the sky is green and i'm cold
telephone wires string above me
and fold into sheet music,
birds sit like quarter notes and treble clefs.

my throat is burning
from the taste of your name
i thought my acid reflex had been gone
since i was eleven.

i cleared my hard drive today
four point two gigabytes
filled with the memory of you
are gone.

in the blink of an eye
you
are
lost.

*(a.m.c.)

Tell yourself every day that you are competent, you are fierce, you are hard-edged and don't need anyone.

2. Lick your wounds. Heal yourself.

3. Ride the rain, let it soak your bones and cover you in ice until you're sick. Then, burn it off. Turn into fire and stone. Cover yourself in tarps and bury deep into the ground.

4. Skate and skate and skate. Let the concrete scrape your knees, let it break you on the outside but strengthen you on the inside.

5. Walk like you're Angelina Jolie. Walk with purpose. Never run to catch up to anyone, they'll wait on you. (reminder: you don't need anyone)

6. Turn into a dragon. Breathe fire.

my heart was a monotonous beeping
a soft old grandfather clock,
background noise at dinner parties
and a focal point for insomniacs
it droned on, neither increasing or decreasing,
neither rising or falling,
a steady beat of a steel drum on a hot summer night

i moved an inch closer to you

my heart was a ticking time bomb,
still steady as clockwork
but adding drama to the movie screen
it was stippling and a connect-the-dot photo of a sailboat
if you wired me up to a machine,
the line of my heart would be a steadily increasing mountain,
closer and closer to the destination
which is you

three inches closer

my heart was alla turca on piano
and impressionist paint strokes
it was dashed-dotted-dashed-dashed
it was swift like wind and current
it was nearly hummingbird wing
nearly death defying

you are two inches away

my heart has broken metronomes,
the tempo reached over five hundred
and chatter flooded into it
speaking words so fast
it sounds like a language from another planet
sometimes i wonder if my heart is really like mount rushmore
but it's not the head of founding fathers carved into the side
but the way you look when you look at me

you are here, i am here

the love i feel for you is plotted out on graph paper covering my floors but it keeps running off the page and i don't have enough paper

*(a.m.c.)

sometimes it's okay to wrap yourself
in the night sky and spin a web out of rain
you hold mystery in your palms
and i feel it's swallowed me whole
there will be times when it's hard
when heaviness overtakes your wet hair
and the sweaty nervousness doesn't stop
and dirt will get into your pores,
you will feel it down to your very core
and sometimes it's rocky
and there will be storms
but rain won't stop just because you're screaming
go outside and let it pour

*(a.m.c.)

i wanted to be eaten up,
swallowed
by the sky.
i wanted the clouds
to become forests
and the stars
to become puddles.
i wanted the moon's laughter,
the sun's attention,
and birds' embrace.
can't you see i don't fit
on the ground,
and i'm always looking up.
are we all at home on earth?
or do some people have to fly
to feel less homesick.

*(a.m.c.)

i am cold water on a ***** fist,
rinse me clean of this catastrophe
i am beaten and bruised, a raw being
stitch my wounds and bandage me whole
put me in your house made of books
and set fire to the poetry
scandalize this love affair
between me and the words
this romance only exists in my head
but it feels so real

*(a.m.c.)

have you ever had your torso treated like an ashtray
all cigarette burns and flaky ash
twist and turn and go deeper until the fire is inside your brain
the guy that's doing it is laughing, drunk
and you're twisting in your sheets
after a couple nights of pain you begin to wait for it
anticipating
not fearing
the fire that once burnt you now consumes you
you don't feel alive unless it's on your skin
turning you into the ashtray
you now wait to be

*(a.m.c.)

i have  become a collection
of  ripped pieces of sketch paper
and ink and paint and blood.
my head is a wasteland
filled with hazy drugs
that let me sleep.
i want to let gravity do it's work
and pull my fingertips to earths core
mix dirt into my veins
and take shots out of glasses
full of whiskey and ache.
i want to walk into the ocean
and fill my body with more water
than it was meant for.
i want to become the sand
so people will make castles out of me
and so i can laugh
when i burn their bare feet.

instead i am an incomplete drawing
and a poem that makes no sense.

*(a.m.c.)

i    am
  a     mausoleum.
these bones are where
the dead sleep.
i    am
  a     graveyard.
this skin is rotting
and dirt fills my mouth.
i    am
  a     casket.
oak trees and velvet
house lifeless figures.
i    am
  a     funeral.
there is no mourning here
because everyone else is gone.

*(a.m.c.)

you are getting so close to being you
it's like a word on the tip of your tongue
the smell of rain before a storm
electricity raising the hairs on your arms
you are becoming your own wonderful storm
and it's windy and it's rainy and that is all you
because you have the power to change everything
happiness is not a warm gun
but minty fresh breath and sunrise phone calls,
wandering on the beach on a sunday morning
and the sound of waves crashing onto your toes
let the rain soak through your sad bones
and wake up the life inside of you
because you have so much to live for
and so much you to be

*(a.m.c.)

my elbows are all tangled up and jagged
and i am not gentle,
but sandpaper, rough and coarse
eroding your skin until there is nothing left
i am sharp edges and serrated knives,
cutting myself open bone to bone
i am not pleasant or a summer's eve
but frigidity and mocking stares
whenever you walk
i am the concrete beneath your feet
with holes and cracks that break your mother's back
with no colors, just grey and monotonous black and white
i am a harsh line on soft paper
all diagonals and wrong turns
right angles and cut in two

*(a.m.c.)

four years ago i became a carpenter
and started to build a wall
between myself and the world.
people came and went
and tried to take out the bricks
like they were playing jenga.
and some people walked up to me
with a sledgehammer in their hand
and knocked me down with the wall.
as the years went by
my wall got taller
and the people became fewer
until there was no one left.
i'm starting to rethink my blueprints
because it's getting lonely over here
and i forgot the windows.

*(a.m.c.)

sitting on a curb in the rain,
i was addicted to nicotine and silver linings
always clasping my hands in prayer
for some ghost to take me.
in your genes i see firecracker windowpanes,
dosed in gasoline
your bruises were blessed by catholic priests
and the saints were singing your praises
sitting on church rooftops and asking
questions like,
"what's this pulsing in my chest?"
you told me it's god, like an ocean inside of me
no longer rotten and bruised.
for some reason i can't let go of you
with your tainted lips and scabby elbows
i drink you up out of dripping faucets
thirsty and wild-eyed
always craving more.
you used to be lightness, you know
like deep breaths and wind on leaf
lately you've let yourself absorb into black
where is your face?
where are your hands?
where have you gone?

*(a.m.c.)

do you ever think about
crystallized heartbeats?
and capricorn fists holding
winter solstices within each crease,
palms like mountains
with riverbends and valleys,
cliffdiving into an ocean
of crimson skin?
the lullaby that plays over
and over
in my head is the sound
of your voice
cracking as you said,
"please don't go."
that three-word phrase
sings me to sleep
every single night.

i didn't ask for this,
you know.

i didn't ask for blown-out candles
smoke twirling into tendrils of grey
and ashy piles.
i never asked for your blank stare
when your memory was erased
by people in white coats with long needles.
i didn't ask for your arms
to become my stronghold
and my shelter against the night.

i didn't want this but now i'm addicted.

*(a.m.c.)

i dream in colors of the sky;
with sandpaper hands
over a glossy finish
and bluebonnet fields
in a golden sunset.
my brain is hot-wired to be alone;
i don't want you painting
my skies over
with white.
i'll paint them black
in the morning,
but i will poke holes
so i can still see the stars.

*(a.m.c.)

i tied knots in your chest
with my old shoelaces so
why didn't you ever call me back?
there are rose-shaped bruises
on my lips from where i
****** the blood out of your
heart and i wanted to tell
you that it tasted like
cinnamon but i
can't anymore
because someone
else is putting new
bandaids on your
cuts. i thought you
said you liked
my pain? and that
you wanted my
sledgehammer
to keep driving
through your
wood-paneled walls
but i think you
lied to me and
i wish you wouldn't
have because i never
would've become so
destructive if you
hadn't told me that
hurt makes you feel alive
and that i remind
you of tornadoes and
bulletproof vests.

*(a.m.c.)

I have never been soft because shells are much more impressive and bulletproof vests aren't supposed to crack

I have never been soft because the Sahara desert can withstand any temperature but Antarctica will melt as the sun comes closer

I have never been soft because the moon isn't made out of paper and the sun isn't flaking like my old paintings

I have never been soft but right now I feel like a crumpled up piece of paper

I have never been soft but my knees are covered in dirt and flowers won't grow correctly out of my skin

*(a.m.c.)

maybe the wind in your bones was the same wind rattling mine;

maybe the salt eroding your skin was also eroding my skin;

maybe our ghosts are haunting the same house (it's rotten above these floorboards);

and maybe that is what destroyed us.

i swam in your lakes but the current washed over and drowned me (it tastes like blood under here);

i've wanted to trod on you in dust with my new tennis shoes but you're still crawling on the shoreline looking towards the sun;

you have become a deep crater inside of me and it hurts like hell but the only thing that heals scars is salt water and burning fire (i tried to get rid of you but your grip is ice cold);

i think i'll continue to chase ships on the horizon until they are tiny figures in my palm (they only get smaller and smaller until they're gone).

*(a.m.c.)

i can still taste the lightning clinging to your lips
all of your sharp edges and corners
left me as a big red bruise
you are spark and i'm your ash
we used to sing to pink floyd and the strokes
but now my record player is the soundtrack
to my lonely bedroom
we were we were we were
did you know? i gave you my whole self
i told you to be careful and you promised
(a thousand of them) that brokenness is never
something you intend to give me
so why did you drop it?
you dropped me and i shattered
like my mother's favorite casserole dish
everyone says red is the most powerful color
and now i see why
you sang red songs and kissed red kisses,
you touched me with red fingertips
until i was a burning red sun
red is something that breaks,
you are someone who destroys.
i am wrecked.

*(a.m.c.)

good things don't come to those who wait
they come to those who take the sun out of the sky
put it in their mouths and swallow it whole
drink your coffee and ice your wounds
heal the stitches in your chest
take deep breaths and tell yourself
it is well it is well it is well
your swelling pride will take over and
soon you will love yourself, i promise
some day kid,
you must love yourself

*(a.m.c.)

i am still awake at 5:35 am
and it's burning like a flame inside of me
but this time it feels so warm
and i'm grinning
with my dead teeth
and this cigarette high has lasted hours
i can't believe that god may still be there
my lungs may hurt but at least i'm feeling
at least i'm alive and breathing
even with broken lungs
even with mad eyes
and drunken breath
i'm alive
i'm breathing

*(a.m.c.)

my lungs are full of smoke
and the smell of your skin
and this ocean that i'm sinking in
is a million less tears
and a thousand more you's
you caught me like a shark
all gnashing teeth
and blood stained skin
i was wild and frail
deaf and blind
until you filled my hands with roses
and whispered into my ear
"i'm here."

*(a.m.c.)

i never thought i’d become
this hollowed out reckless person
this empty canvas and storm of a girl
i wanted to be a storm but not the kind i’ve become
because right now i’m destroying too much
of what i once loved
and i want to be rain that makes the flowers grow
rain that ends in a rainbow
rain that you dance in and kiss in and laugh in
rain that you pray for after months of drought
i wanted to be that rain
instead i am hurricane and tornado and destruction
and right now i’m killing off everything i once was
i don't want to destroy anymore
i want to make things grow

*(a.m.c.)