you want to know me
see me
in ways no one has.
but that isn't how you know me.
i wish it were,
i wish we could sit in your car
on a cold winter night
and i'd tell you everything.
trust me, there's so much i want to tell you.
and i would,
i'd turn myself inside out in front of you.
but
that isn't how you know me.
you'll know me in little pieces
and just a single one at a time
like ripping the tiniest bits of paper up
and throwing them in a
glass jar with the words "rainy day"
written on it in marker.
i'll sing to you, i promise
and i'll show you all my poems
and paintings
and you'll know everything.
just so long as you stay
stay with me
love me
wait for me
to show you
me.

I don't know where this feeling in my stomach comes from. I wish it would stop. Empty and sick. I wish it would stop. It feels as though something is wrong, something is missing. I have no idea what. It's like a horrible opposite to deja vu. Alone is all the feeling I get from it, alone and maybe confused. Unsatisfied, but I wouldn't know how to begin to get what I need. Is this all life is?

Scars on my wrists, scars on my legs,
“Stop hurting yourself,” he begs.
Can’t stop crying. “I’m just so tired,” I sigh.
I’m alone, and I think I want to die.

You were there. How am I supposed to act like I have no one to talk to about this... thing.. when you were there? You went through it, too. Is it killing you, too? I buried it but I guess not deep enough. It has been fighting me because it doesn't want to stay in - it wants to scream, it wants to cry. It wants to cry for days. But if I let myself cry I'm not sure I would stop before we drowned.
I think I might miss you. And I decided if you call again, I won't hang up this time. I thought for a moment you might see this and call, but then I remember it's the only thing you know nothing of. You can't see these words.
I think I might wish you did.

Lost,
gone,
away
forever.
I don't know why I'm so angry.
It's not as if you could have known better.
I miss you so much,
more every day.
I never knew you,
but I feel such pain.
I wish I had known you,
I wish you were here.
Nothing would matter,
at least something would be clear.
You were perfect to me, even when I wasn't sure.
You didn't deserve this. You were so pure.
I miss you so much,
more every day.
It doesn't get easier.
Time doesn't heal pain.

i wonder if you honestly thought that i didn't know all my flaws when you were screaming them at me.
i did. i knew. i still have bad habits, but they aren't as bad. i know you probably don't care.
i stopped ripping my flesh with blades out of pencil sharpeners
but not long enough ago for all of wounds to have healed yet.
and nothing goes up my nose anymore, or in my veins,
but now i sleep too much and eat even worse than i did before.
and i can't seem to stop biting my nails because i have no clue what i'm doing until they're all ripped away and hurt like hell.
the rest of my life is like that, too.
i wonder if you ever wondered why i never told you all the things you did wrong.
i won't waste your time telling you now.
but you had bad habits, too. you had your flaws.
i hear you put your fists down
but now you spend your nights in new york
with bottles and bloodshot eyes
or on little stages singing your songs about me.

tell her she is the girl you dreamed of.
tell her that her scars don't matter,
and repeat it over and over.
think of every little thing you love about her,
then put it in a letter under her pillow.
tell her just how you've planned out your future with her.
make sure she knows it was all for her, about her.
tell her how much you love her every single day
and never stop trying to find new ways.

you were so used to hiding everything
from everyone,
you didn't know what to do
once someone knew all your secrets.

They do not tell you how awful sadness is.
When they romanticize heartbreak and romanticize depression,
they just forgot to mention that it is actually really, really terrible.
And all the little girls grow up wanting to fall
and fall and fall until they spend their nights crying and lonely
because the movies and the books,
they all made it look so meaningful and pretty
and grown up.
They do not tell you how it just sits like a knot in your stomach
and sometimes makes you feel sick
and sometimes feels like all the fallen tears took your soul with them.
They just show you it happens and they tell you it’s supposed to.
All the little girls grew up and fell
and got their hearts broken for it
and found out it’s pointless and ugly
and juvenile
and it hurts.
They find out how awful it is and they do very much wonder why nobody ever told them. They wonder if they just didn’t listen. They wonder if it’s their fault
and they feel stupid.

why do you have to be sad before you appreciate happy? why does that burning inspiration only come when you are in darkness? why do I fill pages while a knot of sadness sits in my stomach? why do the urges to pour out feelings no longer come while I am enjoying my time, myself, my love? why does happiness stomp out creativity like a cigarette in an ashtray and sadness lights it back up with some addictive flame? yes… the sadness might make you sink low, low, low, but that’s where the passion is. when you are low and you don’t understand, you either write about it, draw it out, paint it into vision, you express it in some way, or you **** yourself. you have to do something with all those raw feelings. what about happiness though? happiness is so bright and special, why don’t I want or need to express that? is my happy less than everyone else’s? why are things so right when I’m so broken? I only understand myself in sadness. happiness makes me question everything. sadness feels like being in love. are those the only two things I can really feel? sadness and love?… the only times I feel alive, the only times I feel like me are when I have something to write about, something to consume me in 4am thoughts, something that makes it all so real, to make me need to get it out and appreciate the intensity in another form.

I’m doing fine without you.
Everyone said it and everyone was so sure
and everyone was right because
I can go whole hours and days without thinking of you. I never thought I would be able to do that.
I’m doing fine without you,
and I hope you’re fine, too.
I’d say sorry but neither of us are. I’d say I miss you but I don’t.
You’d say you hate me but you probably don’t care enough anymore.
Hate is exhausting, I know.
I’m doing fine without you.
It’ll be a year in July since I found someone better.
And it’ll be two in August since we ruined everything.
Bout five since I didn’t know who you were,
so about five since I was happiest.
But I’m happy again.
I’m doing fine without you.

I am emotional and emotionless. I love myself, I hate myself. I am happy, I am sad. I am so so sad. I want to get married. I hate the thought of it. I would love to have a baby with you. That’s a horrible idea. Maybe I should end this, I want this to last forever. Don’t ever leave me, I don’t need you. I feel great, everything hurts. Everything.. hurts. I want to die, waste of life. I want to die, I want to stay. I want to die, I’ll be here for you. I want to be your everything, I can’t handle that. I can’t sleep, I’m so tired. I need help, no I don’t, I’m fine. I’m fine, I’m falling apart. I’m not okay, can’t tell. Terrified of truth, it’s ripping my insides out.
and
I hurt.

you are a stupid girl with a loaded gun in your chest

you never sleep, you never rest.

i swear you know the way home

and you swear you don’t

everything broke right before your eyes

your smile fell and so did you,

but i didn’t want to fight.

you handed me your heart and said

hold it to the light

they stole many pieces of me.

i thought of what a sight you must have been

young and innocent and whole.

i cried for you, i cried so hard

for what you used to be,

i'm sitting alone in the dark again,

because you never cried for me.

So many thoughts, even beautiful ones
lost over the day.
They'll come and I'll smile and think
"I should write that down."
But I never do.
Maybe it's poetic.

hello
low and behold
i am the ghost of what we could have been
give me your hand, let me show you
what should have been.
omission of flaws and insincerity,
shine light to my heart that pathetically
only would beat for you.
i am only too certain
you made such a great mistake.
but i get it,
i was too broken.
whatever.

I used to love the scars.
I used to love them, and they would comfort me when I was sad.
Now they are only a reason to stop, a preventative measure, something to convince myself to find another way to feel better, but it's not easy.
I used to love the way they looked on my skin,
now I cannot stand them being there. They are unwelcome.
I wish they would leave my skin forever, and I swear I'd never make another. I swear, I would never press that blade to my innocent skin again. I swear, I swear, I swear,
I would find another way to make the sadness leave.

*5.26.13

I am yin
And you are yang
While I don't always see
Light within the day
You are facing the sun
And I live in the dark
But still I love you
More than all the stars

*3.5.13

Nearly all of me was gone by the time I realized it was killing me to love you, it was breaking me into pieces being ignored, and now I am nothing left. No matter how much I tried to believe my hero when she told me I was more than what they all made me into, I am still nothing. I've been a sick, sick liar telling myself this was all okay. I've thrown up too many times to speak. I can't stand for all the blood I've lost and friends who never really were. I have disappeared completely and I desperately need to know what this is now - what is left and walking around. This shell can't be healthy but all of you people encourage it to keep "living". Pieces come back to visit but no, you can't make a glass figurine whole again after you've thrown it into a wall, too many chips fell and you never found them. I crave color and truth and feelings but then again I don't because craving is something you can't do when you are so far past numb you don't feel yourself breathing. I don't believe anyone and I don't think I ever have, don't think I ever believed in trust - maybe the way some people don't believe in magic. My legs look more like a cutting board and I don't look in the mirror anymore, I'll only see drained eyes and wish I had enough in me to force a smile. I keep reminding myself to be quieter but it's a lot like ******* your tummy in, you get too comfortable and forget. I used to be very good at both. I don't remember when I stopped sleeping at night but what a silly thing to think it was a good idea. Darkness brings feelings I crave but never the good ones, no, never ever the good ones. Maybe you should be scared of the dark, it never did hold anything good. Maybe you should be scared of me, too. Darkness is what's on the inside of me, and if I hadn't spilled my own blood more times than I could count, I would swear it was black.

*6.19.13

Last night he said he
was worried about me.
He said one day he'd wake up
and suddenly be without me.
I've been worried about
but I've always pulled through.
I just don't know how to say
that this is nothing new.
I'm okay, I'm okay.
I will be just fine.
I swear to god I've said this
seven million times.
Please, what I need
is for you to believe me.
Because I swear all I really need
is for you to not leave me.
And I'll choose what to lose,
my sadness or him.
I've known you longer,
but I need him to win.
I know you said to me
"I'll never leave you"
But maybe you're a liar
And I just can't believe you.
Or maybe I'm the liar
who just can't find the truth.
Maybe you're the drug
that can't stopped being used.
I've been living with fear
and you're always too near.
I think that I've held you
just a little too dear.
"Don't worry about me"
I've said and I've said.
I'll try harder to control
all the things in my head.

*6.10.13

what happens when you don't
"figure it out"?
what if you don't
"get over it"?
what do you do when you can't be okay?
what happens when you don't know
where you're going? when
where you've been
won't leave you alone?

*5.6.13

hate yourself so much you start to hate everyone else. hate your life and everything that happens every day. hate it so much you use it to cut lines of red in your skin, light it on fire and inhale it so you don't have the energy to hate for a while. then hate all the distractions you use to feel better, hate the people who don't understand, hate that you cannot figure out a way to connect with them and make them know that you want to die, and you're on the verge, and when it gets to that point you won't be stopping to call for help and you won't be taking it easy on yourself because everything else has been so ******* hard.

*5.1.13

I'm stuck.
I can't find beautiful sentences to fit these feelings into,
I can't think of an arrangement of colors to describe the way I feel like I am about to explode.
I keep searching for a string of words to fit perfectly like all the ones I read cause I swear I could've written them.
Why don't I ever find the perfect thing to say?
All these things are trapped inside of me and I can't, for the life of me, figure out a safe way to let them out.
They build and build and I feel I am forever looking for my own way to release them,
I just haven't found it yet.
Words call out to me
but never fall out of me.
Never the right ones.

*6.21.13