They say that when an artist dies, God lets them paint the sky and lately I've been thinking a lot about what my sunset would look like

Her breath forms beautiful icicles on the blood-stained window, her pale body lays in horrifying grace

Sunk in cheeks
Charcoal eyes
Her soul empty
gone.
Nothings left.

She feels only a slight tug as his fist curves into her fragile skull once again, smashing her petite figure into the window.

shatter
the beautiful icicle is exploded into a millon pieces and so the glass.

As her tired face hits the window sil
You can almost feel the break of her jaw as it crushes beneath the weight of his tremendous blow.

Her eyes are still open

But she is now completely gone

The last of her life shattered away with the icicle formed by her last breath.

v.v

I walk
With a wooden smile
Simple to the crowd
Almost believable.

I cut myself
Where people cannot see
What horrors
I have done to myself.

I scream
For a minute
Then I laugh
For a minute.

I do not know
how to stop
The need to jump
Out of a moving car.

I try to control myself
I surround myself with people
I take my medications
I try to dance it off.

I get mad
When people do not know
How to help me
When I do not myself.

When I dance
I begin to see the truth
Only then I realize
I am only human.

The feeling of the blade running across your skin.
The blood dripping down your legs, and arms.
The numb feeling going all over your body.
Is that what you wanted in the first place.
Not to feel your pain.
Also not having those horrible thoughts in your mind.
After awhile those thoughts will come back with bigger urges...

clawing between soft sheets I find your large hands
clasping through the gaps to find my softer inner parts

little do you know I am crumbling
though I give you the power to tear
what I forbid myself
to surrender

Create art with my ****** mess.
I know you never will

It is sad that you are gone
but I am waiting,
gluing my self back together,
trying to find the bits and pieces
I've shed in this process
of stabbing and
grabbing and itching newness
of youthful closeness
and the fusion of two.

to win in a room full of crowded people-
is to lose in a room full of sad poets.

to cry in a damp dark room-
is to stay calm when you gulp ocean water.

You are the ground when its cold, you are what i've given but never told.
You are sleep on the floor, you are tears drowning for more.
You are strength when its gone, you are what I feel at dawn.
You are still when she moves, you are the one who she soothes.
You are the water as I bathe, you are not able to save.
You are beautiful when you die, you are the biggest, heaviest lie.
You are why I'm so torn up, you are never ending wine in my cup.