He was an alchemist,
Turning my lead tears to gold,
Because to him I was beautiful
To him I was worth more.

He was a metalsmith,
Fixing my broken copper wings
With tarnished feathers
Because to him, I could still fly.

He was a clockmaker
Resetting my fragmented cogs and beating pendulum
Spending hours and hours
Because to him I was fixable.  

But I am a just broken clockwork angel
With lead tears, broken wings, and severed insides
Rusted away by time and life
And no amount of mending can save me

Youre in my head, in my bones, in my soul
I cant stop thinking, you’ve taken my control
Silver bones and gold blood that make me up
You’re the metal that binds me together
My broken copper wings with tarnished feathers
An alchemist turning my lead heart into gold
Youre in my head, in my bones, in my soul
I cant stop thinking, you’ve taken my control.

In my head I’m on my knees
Hands over my ears
Trying to block the voices in my head
From yelling,
From screaming at me.

But you can’t block out voices that are within,
So they continue this racket of torture
This monumental mass of self destruction
“You’ll never be good enough!”
“You can’t do this!”
Their voices hoarse from yelling at me
Because they do it all the time.
And I want to give up, oh god, I want to give up.

I’m spiraling down down down
Into a sea of my own creation,
Made of tears and regret and wasted hope
I don’t know how much longer I can stay on my knees
Praying to a god I don’t think exists.
Trying to halt what cannot be stopped
Just like you can’t stop a heart from breaking.

“Nothing is wrong with the educational system”
They say
But how can that be true
When there are countless other kids
Just like me?
Losing themselves to numbers, to statistics, to tests, to homework
Never knowing how to breath,
Because the weight of school bears down on them
Like Atlas, they try to hold the world.
But no one can hold the world,
And so they’re crushed under it.

Just like I am crushed by these voices.

*** for tat he said
And so we cut our scars, and our veiled secrets bled
Unto each other, ‘til we were both dead.

I always called him innocent to ways I was not
But then I realized as I watched his soul get shot
That we were both seasoned in sadness in ways we ought to have naught.

The two wept for who they never knew,
But they tried in vain to push through
Because they wanted oh-so-desperately to start anew

So I cry for the boy with the lost twin
And him for the girl with the mother who has been
But two hearts now conjoined, and together they begin again

tell me im crazy
tell me im just jealous
tell me i dont deserve him
tell me hes not my type
tell me im not his type
tell me tell me
tell me anything
except for "you love him"

he didnt know
what it cost me
to say that to him

he took everything
but i think he gave some
in return

hes all i ever wanted
but i know i will never be
what he wants

my eyes stop at the crinkle
that is him

but his eyes graze over the tear
that is me

so together we pass the paper
that could be us

Today you said you were perfect
And, I know you were joking, but I couldn’t stop wondering:
How could you be so perfect with so many scars?
But then I realized.
The scars, the marks, the pain,
That’s what makes you beautiful.
Not perfect,
But so close to it, the line starts to blur.
Everything you’ve admitted to me,
Every time you let your soul bleed out to me,
I see you,
Not the ‘perfect’ you,
But the beautiful you.
The you who has endured so, so much.
The you who doesn’t paint on a smile,
The you that stands there,
And bears the unbearable with me.
The you who holds up my sky for me even as my world shatters.

So maybe you aren’t perfect,
Maybe your chipped tooth smile and your splintered heart
Are showcased in glass to the world,
And maybe the scars you’ve shown me still bleed,
But maybe,
You’re beautiful to me.

Everything is wrong and i dont know how to fix it.
Monday rolls through my head like one of those memories
that you think could be a dream, but you aren't sure.
Its like this weird numbness, where i'll get flashes of happy
but the sad still dominates.

With these flowers between us I cannot see your face
And with this table separating us I cannot feel your heart beat.
The flowers give off a sickly smell,
One that implies they are dying.
But both of us ignore them,
Because we too, are dying.

There is nothing between us now
But I still cannot see your face,
My face is in the crook of your shoulder
As we dance achingly slowly around the kitchen;
This death defying dance is no longer about living,
Now it’s more about not dying

In our moonlight waltz we fall into unharmonious synchronization
Our steps taken prisoner by the serenading stars,
Following the beat of the comet-streaked sky.  
His heartbeat matches the pace of our dance and
He twirls me to the tune of his truths that hurt more
Than his lies.

We tango through the house,
Our feet stepping on the cursed mirror shards
That show all we used to be,
When the flowers did not smell sickly,
But had the intoxicating aroma of life.
What stupid flowers.

He dips me into the bed we used to share
I grip onto him for dear life.
Our feet are bloodied, leaving marks all around.
I was the one who taught him this dance in the first place.
This foxtrot of lies and self-doubt and tears,
He always was a better follower than leader.

Around again and again
We wear trenches in the hallways and
Forts in the kitchen.
One of us knocks over the table, such a little misstep,
But the flowers in their vase fall, shattering everywhere.
You don’t have a heartbeat anymore.

This is the story of a little girl
Who no longer loved herself
Despite trying again and again
But she was tired
(trying took a lot of energy, you know)

This is the story of a little girl
Who wanted so desperately to be wanted
She demanded others attention
But she never could get their love
(love is a hard thing to give, you know)

This is the story of a little girl
Who was exhausted, so very exhausted
Of always coming in last
That she gave up on first
(first was a hard thing to achieve, you know)

This is the story of a little girl
Who was so afraid of not capturing the moment
Not preserving that exact moment
That she forgot to live in it
(living is hard you know)

This is the story of a little girl
So afraid of the problems in front of her
That she never saw
Depression sneaking up behind her
(it strangled her, you know)

if yesterday was a dream
then today was a nightmare
reality shattering the fantasy world
we were in

if i am water
then you are fire
lighting a match in my soul
that my cool ways cant dim

if yesterday i was awake
then today i am asleep
without your fire to keep me moving
i will not wake up

The night was my tightrope act over the darkness
A performance, trying not to fall into the sky,
Stars blinding me with their mocking starkness.
Telling me my broken wings could never fly.

The day was me treading precariously trying not to drown.
Lungs being soothed with silver tears and oil colored blood,
Demons pulling me consistently down down down
My work not done, yet I washed away with the flood.

I covered myself in smiles, hiding the bruises I bore
Laughing, making friends, trying to compensate,
               But you need a pair of wings to soar  
               And don’t need water to suffocate.


and suddenly one day I found you,
then I was falling and drowning in you too.

I, the queen,
Sit atop this throne of lies
This bed of secrets
This house of insecurity.
I alone rules these thing,
Long forgotten or freshly made,
Its all black, white, and red here
Black- darker than the light ******* black holes
White- lighter than the ashes of an exploded volcano
Red- brighter than the blood that stains this dress.

I, the queen,
Rule this land of hate,
Of sin,
Of breathlessness.
With an iron fist I govern all within my realm
To make up for these broken, rusted wings,
Which I have so graciously ripped off my back.
Fallen I am no more,
After all,
It is better to rule in hell than serve in heaven.

It’s a game of pulling petals off flowers
Murmuring “she loves me, she loves me not”,
As each frosted pink petal falls
And I think back
To the hugs
The presents
The tears and
The goodbyes
“She loves me,” I whisper as you hug me longest and last
“She loves me not” I choke out as you don’t bother responding
Each petal falls
One by one
Words falling from my mouth like droplets off a leaf
Few petals remain
Three, then two,
Then one.
She loves me…
Not.

3 am is when the emotions come
Silver invisibility
Dark blue sadness
Lime laughter
Red anger, and
Ruby regret.

And when silver and lime tears drain
From gray eyes
Leaving tie-dyed streaks,
All that’s left is the anger
And sadness
And regret.

3am turns to 4am
The colors swirl around and around
Like a painters palette
And they turn to black
So dark it matches the night sky

And the black tosses and turns and
Rumbles and shakes until
Pale sleep takes over
and everything fades
Until purple dawn brings a new day

Growing up a swimmer
I always thought that the
worst way to die
was to drown.

But drowning in you,
with you,  
didn’t make me feel
like I was dying.

I felt like
I was living.

As I doodled a star onto you
You looked at me and smiled,
And suddenly I felt this little ink star inadequate
Because you had a galaxy
Already in your eyes

He was the boy
Who you had to kiss first
And when you did
He’d make a sound of surprise
Deep in his throat

He was the boy
Who wove words into beautiful quilts,  
And could say anything poetically
But stuttered and tripped
On “I love you”

He was the boy
Who remembered everything
Birthdays and favorites movies and times
But never seemed to remember
How much you loved him

tired of being only the friend
tired of being not what he wants when he
is all i want
tired of trying to fly on wings that
dont seem to be here
tired, so **** tired, of always
coming in second

Tonight I am a mass of self-destruction
Tearing, ripping, clawing my way through raw emotions
As if they were confetti paper
But this birthday party is of self-loathing and carnage
The cake made of lies and secrets and violent regret
The balloons pop with the sound of cannons
Shattering the red and silver streaked sky,
The confetti-ed emotions fall from above in a mob of raging color
Craving to bury me beneath them.

It wrenches me apart from the inside out,
Creating cracks in my porcelain body where flaming blood protrudes,
My head a mountainous fiery smog of all too much
A volcano of beautifully deadly words that threaten to destroy me
Imminent doom from this unbreakable, immortal, immoral confetti

Tonight I am a mass of self-destruction
and this time, I refuse to take you down with me.

I said so much that night
Drunk off what I couldn’t have
But unsaid words still hung- hang- out of mouth
Secrets that beg to whispered
To an ear I know will listen
And a heart so closely guarded that
Its open

How do I say what my mouth cannot form?
Or do you already understand me?
You say you know me inside and out
So I just have to pray-
To a god I don’t believe exists-
That you know everything

to those of you who have been wondering where i went--
i'm sorry i disappeared.
i write when i feel too many emotions,
and lately i haven't felt much of those.

She spat the word ‘pity’ out, as if it burns her tongue.
She wouldn’t look at him as she scraped poison from her pretty lips.
Her nails dug into her thighs until ****** half-moons appeared.
She knew she was hurting him to hurt herself, but she couldn’t stop.
Insults flew from her mouth like a double edged sword.
And as she stood over the grave, she too died slowly.

i was never actually scared of heights
i was scared i would be tempted to jump

Help me
Save me
I’m drowning
Hands reaching for the heavens,
Like a criminal caught.
My lungs scream and yell,
Almost as loudly as my brain.
My legs kick, strain; against these bonds that hold me
But my heart is at peace,
Finally letting the water fill me
Drown me
Its rhythm slows, calm,
And letting go,
I take
On
Water.

There are so many things in this world to cry about
And I cry because I miss someone who is still here.