maybe you'll get lucky and you'll be someone like I used to know who gets to say "nothing really bad had ever happened to me"
maybe you'll get lucky and be someone like I thought I was who gets to say "yeah, it was bad, but I'm fine"

maybe you'll be thirteen and it'll all happen way too fast.

maybe you'll be fourteen and perfect will go downhill so steeply you'll break every bone as you tumble down.

maybe at fifteen you'll learn loss like you shouldn't have known for decades, and then spend your time convincing yourself not to die.

maybe you'll be sixteen and endure a goodbye so horribly complicated that you won't be able to make sense of it, and you'll give up trying. maybe that year you'll find your favorite hello.

maybe seventeen brings your fiercest love and your biggest fall and your hardest crash. seventeen leaves you crawling, bloodied, into the safest place you can find.

maybe then you're questioning that this isn't the way it should be. maybe you're asking why it all had to happen to you.



maybe you spend three years in your own head, trying to escape, numbing yourself over and over, and for your own sanity, blocking everything out.

eighteen.

nineteen.

twenty.



maybe you'll be twenty-one when it all finally hits you. maybe the "you're too young for this" you heard at thirteen finally makes sense. the "are you sure you're okay?"'s of fourteen will echo in your head. you'll hear your fifteen year old self shrugging off the shock of "you're sure handling this well". and you will know now you never handled it at all.

you will feel it all at twenty-one, a little more every day. maybe your mind was protecting you until now. maybe now you're thinking you can handle it. you can't. you aren't ready. you wish it would go away.

maybe it will.

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

broken again.
it comes and goes, right?
or what do you call the spaces between
where i've mastered how to human
throughout the day,
the times when I can say hello and goodbye
and laugh at unfunny jokes
and do what's expected
and take my medicine,
would i call it unbroken so long as i am not sobbing in a ball on the floor?
it hits when it hits.
and sometimes it's one thing at a time.
sometimes i am struck with the notion
that his heart breaks in his chest every day and that it is my fault
and sometimes i only recall the times he was kicking me in the stomach
and then it's both
or maybe it's the life we lost or all three
or a completely different loss of a different person or a different fallout
or a different pain that i caused
a different wound i am responsible for
or a different time when my heart was ripped from my chest
occasionally i get slammed with memories from a time when i should have been protected, sometimes i remember things that can't possibly be in my range of memory

sometimes it's more and sometimes it's less, sometimes it's a combination, sometimes it is none of the above. it is never gradual. it hits, it hurts. like concrete and broken glass. i can't control it, but i am broken again.

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

She's got a bit of understanding of me in her pocket, though she's never treated me like Margo Roth Spiegelman or Alaska Young, but I so appreciate that she knows I am not ordinary either. She won't ever know the ways that I love her for loving me when I fall short. Over time, maybe I can make her understand that I spent three years being treated like a normal girl, my broken shards swept aside and the rest of myself glossed over with a simple layer of facade and denial, and I embraced it, and it took something from me quite incredibly devastating. I spent my growing up years being treated like there was no hope for me. But she loves my heart, knowing all it's debilitating flaws. Though I was once some terrible, selfish child, she loved me through it. I am miraculously confident that even one day when she comes to know how much strength it took to learn to speak on the phone without wanting to cry, and that I still have a lot of trouble looking other humans in the eye, and almost every day, I smoke cigarettes and listen to loud music until I give myself headaches, and I just really don't care... I believe she will still love me. She doesn't see me as weak as I see myself. I hope she knows I call her angel because looking back now, I know she's saved me a hundred times over. While I'm not quite sure yet how to exist in a love like this, the way love should have always been, I am eternally grateful.

I'm going through something
It comes with a lot of emotion and music and thinking and writing (most of which doesn't make total sense yet)
And, mom, I will be fine
I just need space
I need to not talk
Or I need to talk too much
I want to be who I want to be - I'm ready
I'm done sitting and thinking about it
And mourning
I don't want to grieve anymore
I need to let myself be hungry
I will forgive myself even if it came last
I'm going through something
And it comes with... Well, a lot

the first day was hard and the fourth day was harder, this week has been the longest of my life.
i desperately want to dive back into our week together,
let's just relive it and we'll
sleep and drink everything else away.
i'll go to bed tonight and dream again of a time that is too far away
where I never tell you goodbye again. just goodnight.

"from the second that i was born, it seems i've held a loaded gun."

fourteen. ts, i choose my ******* boyfriend over you. you were always there for me. i never say sorry.

fourteen. em, you make me feel special. i make you feel stupid for liking me. you spend three years trying, i spend that time acting like a *****. i never said sorry.... for this.

fifteen. tdl, i lie to you over and over, mostly when i promise to be careful with my own life. i say sorry and i mean it a little. selfish. ******.

fifteen. al, life became about me in the worst way. i apologize two years later, two years too late. all i talked about was me and my ****. you had ****, too.

fifteen. jm, i hold your hand to a kitchen burner. this is the worst thing i have done and probably  will ever do. i was so tired of your hands. i spill mouthfuls of apologies to you for a year. i am still unsure if i owed you a single one.

fifteen...... you deserved better and my **** choices ruined your chances. i am so
so
so
sorry.

sixteen. em, i use you all year. i use you when i want and throw you away when i want. then it happened, you were thrilled, i was terrified. i fix my problem and simultaneously destroy hope in you. i said sorry and didn't mean it at all. you hate me to this day and you should.

sixteen. di, i make you a million promises. i find out everything you want in life and i pretend to be that. you hit me in a parking lot for this. i still like to pretend you never happened.

sixteen. al, bathroom floor. tears. panic. phone call. terror in your eyes. i am still so sorry. selfish.

seventeen. im sorry to myself for a million things. i wake up when i find true love and realize how reckless i have been. i feel like apologizing to everyone.

nineteen. mt, i am two years into this with you and still my heart breaks for her.
i don't dare tell you.
it'd break yours.

twenty. mt, i have to follow my heart. i have to run to her and let you take the fall. you were my best friend. i am so very sorry.



the hurt ive caused haunts me every day of my life.
the guilt i feel are weights of varying impossibilities.
i don't think i will ever learn to let go.

sit down, i could show you the slivers of skin replaced with scar tissue. i bet you'd think i was pretty ****** if i were to say that tonight i want to cut just to cut. i am not sobbing, shaking or sinking. in lieu of you, i want that blade.
maybe one of the truest things that could be said about me (if anyone knew me well enough) is how i never do so well when i have nothing to place my too intense heart inside of. and i might feel like it's shaking in my own ****** hands, but maybe i am daydreaming and maybe if you look close, you could see something the knife gave me.

you saw me in the dark, the night i asked you not to touch me, and i have twisted fantasies, and i know this side of me so well that i was sickly amused when i found the blade in the bathroom drawer that i had been searching for that night.

Burning gas and my lungs is better than sitting alone with all the empty time to think
Think about the tears and layers of neosporin that you went through trying desperately to make the lines heal without a trace
Trace the lines of her face on the cold screen because it makes you feel closer to her somehow
Somehow you're carrying on, you feel weight of the universe on your shoulders and you're too dizzy to stand much longer
Longer than the miles between seems to be the time until you next have her in your arms
Arms that are weary and sore and cut up, but they still pull and reach and grab and push
Push everyone away until you're alone again, bridges are what you're best at burning.

We'll speak these words like sadness doesn't drip from every one of them.
We'll put on this act like everything is just fine while our hearts hurt in our chests.
We're going to hold on to what is available even though it's like gripping razor blades while we dangle over a black hole.
If we let go,  we're going to fall into the abyss, so we might as well stay with our bleeding hands.
And we will not mention the every-so-often feelings that will wash over us with yearning and impossible want, because what's the point in saying it out loud? It only kills me a little each time when I swallow the truth. What a small price to pay.

Haven't you seen me sleep walking?
I've been holding your hand.
Haven't you noticed me drifting?
Oh, let me tell you, I am.
Tell me it's nothing.
Try to convince me that I'm not drowning.
Oh, let me tell you, I am."


This might be the worst I've ever felt

you fall down, you have no choice but to get back up.
when you get back up, you lose something; a piece of your strength, energy, will... something. keeping on is not free.

you spent the day in bed. too exhausted to get up. you're so sick of bed. your body feels angry for being so still. you just didn't have it in you to move around today. this is fatigue. it isn't fair. in fact, it's cruel.

there is no feeling good anymore. there are what some poor souls refer to as "good pain days" which is just another way of saying
"I know what it's like to be in such bad pain that you want to die, and I'm just thankful today's pain was at least not the worst it has ever been"

you're on no kind of schedule. it'd be a blessing just to eat and sleep at normal times, with some regularity. you feel like crap all the time. you gain weight and lose muscle. you feel weak and heavy.

lie in bed. peace of bedtime is a foreign concept,  your body aches to be comfortable, and you may doze off for 3 seconds before jerking awake by inconsiderate muscles that don't really care that you haven't had a solid hour of rest in 2 days.

pills are a blessing and a curse. relief and side effects. they allow you to rest and they mess with your brain. you'll get so sick of taking pills and you'll begin to hate them for needing them.

the very best you see in your future is surviving. that's what fibromyalgia is. your job is getting through the days of pain and exhaustion, the physical and mental detriments that come with it. your life is a fight, and you are so, so, so, so tired of fighting. you always, always, always feel you have no more fight left in you.



you're 21 years old and you fondly and bitterly remember a time (not too long ago) when you thought some things in life would just be givens; career, family, adventure, accomplishments.... health.

you're 21 years old and you learn that you get none of the above. you're too tired, you hurt too much, and this disease seems to only get worse... it seems to have taken everything from you

and then it takes some more.

I ran wild, I didn't hide my emotions, I screamed them and threw them everywhere. If I wanted to do something, I sprinted towards it. I sang my songs so loud and made mix cds and playlists that were so bomb I still have them and listen to them and find comfort in them. I said the words I wanted to say, I fell in love with my own slang and quotes from books and movies and I swore I'd get them tattooed on me. I painted for hours and I sketched the monsters out of my mind. It's funny that I hated me then. They told me I was crazy, I was reckless, I made no sense and I would someday settle down.

I did. I still have urges to paint and I still listen to music like it saved my life, 'cause it did. But I can't get upset and drive off in my ****** car and return 6 days later and tell people they were overreacting for worrying. I'd lose my job and I'd feel bad for making them worry. I guess I'm a grown up now.

The point is, go crazy while you can. I'm not done with my crazy, not by a long shot. I'm leaning on the street sign "20s" and I can't see the end of the road, it's just a horizon of drunken nights and learning experiences and trips all over the country and love so hot you wanna pass out.

"don't let them tell you what to do, how to feel"
No. They are going to tell you, and you can't stop them. It is okay to pretend to listen while you fully know you're gonna do things your own **** way. It's also okay to scream at them to mind their business. It's okay to scream and run and follow your crazy heart, you may never feel it so full of passion again.

my heart ached
lament of displacement
while i was committed
to someone who was not you
that was wrong
i was in the wrong place with the wrong one
you were in the wrong place because you were anywhere without me
i get that we have to make mistakes to learn and i get that we have to have the bad to appreciate good and i really, really understand why we had to go through that time where the whole entire universe felt wrong
i could sit for hours in one place inside my head
there were times you were a hundred thoughts
out of ten in my mind
and i could lie in the wrong bed and only want you
and cry for you and know how it would never be okay again
because i knew, i was so certain,
i would never have you again


you told me, last night, in my bed, right where you belong, you told me
you were so happy
and your eyes were so soft and warm, looking at me like you meant it,
and your smile, your smile was the stuff of dreams

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.

**** everyone who hurt you.
They were never worth your heart.
**** everyone who turned on you.
Everyone who left after they promised they would stay.
**** all your so-called "friends"
who wanted nothing more than to see you fall.
**** everyone who changed.
Everyone who swore they were different from
everyone else.
**** all the people who lied.
And those that did it behind your back, continuously?
Goes double for those backstabbers.
**** anyone who ignores you.
You aren't worth their time?
They aren't worth one more thought.
**** heroes, you don't need them.
You can be your own.

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.

never believed in much
just people
and lord knows they let you down
but maybe you, gripping your holy pages, will find peace tonight
maybe you'll get to sleep.
maybe you don't have to feel like you're going crazy, losing something you never had. maybe.
but me? oh,  for heaven's sake, i am getting by.
i am losing my grip and getting lost in worry and wonder
but i am just fine.

every single time
i falter and stumble around
it's like i can feel a stopwatch resetting.
"it's been zero days since my last mistake"
it's like that timer needs to get somewhere
somewhere specific
before i can really begin.
it might never get there,
i might never be stable enough to satisfy
and i can't be okay with that
because who wants a "zero days" kind of girl as a wife?
that girl shouldn't be a mother, for certain.
that type of child will never reach responsibility
stability
to have the life she wants.
the clock goes back to midnight
stopwatch to zero
i won't begin until i can stop
doing all of these things that spin me in circles
and let me fall down
down
down.

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

You told me to come out of my head,
and I told you I was a prisoner there.
You told me I had the power to change it all.
I told you that you didn't understand.
You insisted I could ignore the thoughts that haunted me,
and then I tried to believe you.      
I was a goner for sure,
but you spoke to me like I meant something to this world.        
And I think you saved my life again.

When someone goes missing from your life, the clock slows to some kind of impossible speed where you're sure no time is actually passing at all.
Somehow, painfully and miraculously, it's been six days. But, still, you feel they've been gone a million years.
And you would give anything if they could just be here in this, any, and every moment with you.
You're craving them like they were a drug and now you're washed out, you can try to have a good time with anyone else but your best times are to be had roughly 850 miles away, or in the future, or five nights ago.

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.

On days like today
I feel like the hurricane and also everything it destroys
On days like today
I know most of the damage started a long time ago, started slowly, before people took notice
I know that when you swallow so much
You eventually twist and turn and rage over the sea
Smash into, inhale, devastate everything in your path
On days like today
I am so so so sorry

wait
wait
i can't keep trying to skate
right over the ice of a heart never healed
scars poorly sealed
this sickness is unreal
and
the pain i feel?
surreal
slow down
slow down
as i drag you along at the speed of sound
i'll pick you up and pretend it was you
whose body smashed into the ground
but, please, take me around
show me your town
do you know what's happening right now?
of course i don't, i won't
i still am what i swear i am not
i will still love you when my body rots
a line on my leg is a tear on your face
when i am myself, i can't hurt you that way
it's still flying past me
a million miles
a millisecond
burning
aching
yearning
waiting

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.

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.

There is a recurring guilt instilled in me. I know that it will not ever go away. It will quiet itself with "the past is gone now, nothing can be undone" "you did what you had to" or "don't cry, everyone is mostly okay now"

But then I'm crying myself to sleep with 7 shots as a bedtime story, and I'm listening to all the songs that make my heart hurt and my head numb with nostalgia.

And then I'm doing what I have to do throughout the day - I'm keeping it in and I'm holding on and I'm telling myself it's really gotten better since I last fell apart and I answer my questions with forgetting

Then I'm back in bed. And I'm so close to drifting away from it all but my face is cold and wet because it's winter again and I'm still sad

And then, oh God, I am back four summers ago and I'm wearing my favorite jeans and too many bracelets and I am RUNNING from you. I watch myself leave and I recall every word I put in the goodbye letter and then, I imagine how it destroyed you.. because I ******* promised I would stay

And Jesus Christ I wake up and I know what has happened since and I know that I hurt you when I didn't have to

The ******* guilt is eating me alive again.

wait
where did you go?
all I can see is your ghost
but you swore that you loved us
so, so, so

please
tell me that you’re still with me
just out there somewhere spinning
even if you’re far from yourself
please don’t let that news hit me

help
I’m over here always angry
and you’d never even thank me
give you every chance you’ll take,
and you’ll always leave me hanging

maybe it’s not fair
I could never not care
I’ll curse your name
while I carry your pain
and a mostly silent rage
god, take us to an enlightened age
not your violent grave

she understands my heart
she is forgiving
she is kind
she holds me when I don't know why I'm crying
she listens while I try my best to explain why I'm scared, or why I'm anxious, or why I'm sad, or why something means so much to me
and then she never forgets to say, "I'm always here, if you want to talk more"
she has the best taste in music
she got me in the habit of taking my medicine every day
she takes care of me, and pretty much everything else
she cleans the litter box when I'm in too much pain, even though she hates dealing with ****
she even deals with my crazy family

I love her because
she encouraged me to go to all the doctors when I was scared and in denial that I was getting sick
and now
she drives me to every appointment, she sits with me,
waits with me,
and then sometimes she speaks for me because she knows what it sounds like when articulation fails me, and my words get all caught up in my brain, confused on which order to come out

I love her because
she's my good feeling
she makes my stomach flip
she's my favorite smell
she kisses me with soft lips and care
she has little ears and freckles and the best **** smile you've ever seen

I love her because
when I was awful, she loved me
when I was lost in the darkest nights, she made my mind a better place

I love her because I used to spend weeks in storms of dark, listening to sad music and writing sad poetry

and now I write things like this
and listen to ridiculous happy fun music with her and we sing like fools
and she says "thanks for doing life with me"
and I have never been more at peace

There's nothing I can do
There's nothing I can do
There's nothing I can do
There's nothing I can do

I'd give anything to give this heart a rest.
If this were easy, maybe it wouldn't be worth it. But god, is this worth it? I'm cutting myself open, I'm letting my heart tear itself apart, I'm causing hurt and harm. This is something I cannot handle.

You're right there.

Heartbreak and loneliness,
poetry and sad music,
depression and hopelessness.
That's what I'm good at. Experienced in.
I've always planned for day it didn't work out.
I thought of the songs I'd listen to,
the lyrics that would take over my statuses,
the sad, sad words that would fill my journals.
I would cry at the quotes from movies
about love and loss.
I wouldn't speak to anyone else,
I wouldn't start anything new for quite some time,
because,
well,
I wasn't going to get over you.
I wouldn't be ready to move on for such a long time.
There would be an era in my life devoted to you
and the hole in my heart
and the playlists about you
and the darkness in the middle of the night
and tears pouring down my face
and screaming in frustration why I couldn't keep you.
All I've envisioned for the past year
and three months
and two weeks,
was the horrible, awful time I was going to have
when you left me.
But I never planned for the day that you would stay.

Every day brings me farther away from the past,
I'm so thankful for that.
For someone who always felt out of place, out of touch,
belonging is a graceful wonder.
I messed up so bad,
went too close to the edge,
walked right up to the end,
turned around.
I got tangled and mangled and strangled.
Then I pried the hands off of my neck
and broke them.
I was belittled and betrayed,
so I stood up and walked away.
I grew taller with every step,
so I didn't dare stop.
Every day further away from the past is a sweet reminder that
it
gets
better.

You don't have to be vulnerable.
You don't have to keep putting your heart in the hands of those who have been reckless with it.
You don't have to stay to feed their egos and wait for crumbs to fall your way.

Pick up all the pieces of your heart from around her feet, gather and hold them close; run, hide, glue them back together when you're strong enough to endure the cuts on your fingers
from dealing with
such sharp shards.
You don't have to be sad forever.
You can choose something else;
you can run.

You can choose something else;
you can run.

Run when the halo burns your eyes.
Run when she lets you hit the ground.
Run when she is a different person more often than she is who you love.
Run until you can lift off the ground and fly.

Spin around, keep running, run around until you fly off the ground. Be a hurricane. Rain your aching, screaming, built-up agony all over her house. Shake out all the tears she pulled out of your heart, wring yourself out and let it pour out of you as you whirl away. Leave devastation in your path if you must; she should have thought of the wreckage when she turned you into this.

Be strong, be all the good that you are, be all of it for only yourself, exhale every bad feeling you got from this, and move on.

did i ever tell you how
i fell in love with the moon?
yeah,
she lit up my dark world with her infinite beauty,
so i spent my life following her.
i wore myself down running after her.
sometimes i felt she was drawing closer,
but then she was distant as ever,
so maybe i was just going mad.
sometimes i felt i was giving up all i had.
but the moon was all i ever wanted.
so i stripped myself of the earthly things weighing me down.
i knew i had to learn to fly.
and to learn, i had to fall, so i fell.
but there's no way in hell
i'm giving up my chance at heaven.

how soft you spoke
when you asked, "really?"
as i held the ring out in front of you,
or how my heart was in my throat,
and the warm relief spilling over me when you said you would.

   two days later when we slept all day,
woke in the dark to a heap of problems,
we solved them and i felt we could do anything together. we spent hours and hours through the night together. just together. cold breezes hitting us, the world was asleep, my heart was quietly admiring yours and you laughed so much that night.

   the way you look sleeping next to me now. the sound of soft snoring always calming me. my advice the world would be, "find the one whose snoring you find perfect when you never even imagined something like snoring could be precious to you"

I will love you for the rest of my days and beyond. I will always save you. You make me believe in life, love, and higher powers. After all, this had to have been God-willed fate. I believe something more powerful than us created us for one another.
I will always want to give you everything, I will always take too many pictures of you, and tell you all the ways I find you perfect, tell you every part of you I have fallen in love with you. You may not believe me, and you may get oh so tired of my doting, but I will continue to try to convince you that I love every single piece of you, your heart, your soul, your mind. Were you made that way for me? Or was I made to love you?
And I will never forget these moments, or the beautiful million before them, because they're everything. You're everything to me.

I run my hand across my skin and expect to feel my old body, it's a shock sometimes
This one is heavier, stretched, scarred and permanently bruised
And I don't know what I'll see when they flash the lights
But lately I'm stuck in the idea that we never fit together very well
It's like pushing two wrong puzzle pieces together and realizing it makes a better picture than the one on the box
"Robin's better than the perfect girl. She's real."
But how many times do I have to make the worst decision?
For once I want to be something... Quiet. Content. Restful.
How sobering it would be to sit and think
"things are good. this is nice. I will never
need anything else."

we finished a long goodnight kiss
you rested your hand on my hip
i could never thank you enough for never holding me too tight
yet i found myself wishing, hoping...........praying
Please, never let her let me go
Please, if you could give me this one thing
Please, keep her by my side
i dont pray, i dont believe
but i was asking someone
i was begging for any being more powerful than myself
i prayed for her to keep me always
i prayed to have her goodnight kiss
and her beautiful hands to always hold me
for my love to never let go

baby
baby
I wanna make your stomach flip
but I have never been deserved by anyone
I have always been too good
too kind
too much too soon
too ready to be loved
the way
I always should have been

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.

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.

you call out
"god help us"
in the quietest voice,
and I hear in it a desperation to be heard.
it's the way a mother would die for her child, as if it were no choice at all.
and the same sort of love that it takes
to stand between bullets
and your sister.
it's how a husband will do anything and everything to protect his wife.
it's what matters.
it's the way it should be.
you would lie down your heart to save what it beats for.
and at the the end of the day,
at the end of time,
it will be what saves us all.

angel,
it occurred to me last night,
I've never wanted to live

so much as I do
when I think of a life with you

Leaving cigarette ashes all up and down I-40 for nearly 900 miles. I just got done breathing you in enough to last me for 31 days and all I want is to go back to sleep in the curve of your body. I can't help but feel this drive would go much faster if you were in the seat to my right, but I'll keep barreling down this road, alone, headed home, but I'm not sure I can call it that it that, because no one there understands that I didn't take my heart with me when I pulled out of the hotel parking lot, and I'll never know the right words to explain why  I am so low when I return with the smell of your embrace still on my clothes, and I can still feel your flesh burning fresh in my mind. And I know that my mother is worried about my heart but I can't figure out how to make her realize that this is different, this is it, you're it, you're mine, you are my future. And I know better than anyone that you were always meant for me. Distance is not for the untrue love. The truth is, angel, I am feeling again and that is because of you. I feel every moment I am not next to you and, oh God, how I feel every second in your arms. Darling, I want you to know how much I hate the space between us. At least as I head back to Carolina, I know I'll be searching for a place we can hide away together. I can feel the miles growing and hurting but I also know that we can be strong through them and through the time we're missing. You are my whole heart, you are my girl, my world, forever.

she isn't here right now

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

do you understand that i have loved you above all else in this world? at times, i have placed you all too high over my own head.
there are songs i swear you wrote for me
there was blood
there were tears and ***** shot glasses
there will be nights i have to go without you
when i still need you
need is an overused word.

might be the most honest thing i have ever said when i come to admit
i have never tried this hard for anything