There is no hope for this sanity I spend my days divulging in.
I dive and dig and burrow my way through these sands of time
trying to find a mind my body would work well with
but these days, these days are numbered
and my life is a leap year.
It's February again and I am cold on the inside,
but it's actually July and it's hot outside
but my mind can't tell the difference.
My body is indulging in the solitude of snow and darkness and winter.
Whether or not my body knows that the days mesh together
and the weather doesn't exactly make you feel invincible
well the verdict is still out.
The cold makes me feel invisible and the heat makes me melt
my mind is on thin ice and mother nature knows more about me
than my own mother.
I am in love with the idea of belonging to no one
and never owning a calendar because these years
they all blend together in the end
and you end up trapped under 50 feet of snow
and debt and diapers and divorce papers.
Nothing is set in stone
and these hands on the clock you spend your days watching
are just fixed elements in your subconscious
making it feel like you have your life together
when in reality, you don't and never will.
This life is calendar year and our days are numbered
365 days until you realize you spent another year
watching a clock that ticks for you and a billion other people.
But when will you stop and realize, the stars are watching
and they never skip a beat.
And somehow this earth still turns slowly
even when yours feels like it's weighing down on your chest
and you can't breathe because it's too cold
and you can't run because you can't feel your feet
so you're stuck there wishing
that you remembered what summer felt like,
it's just another calendar year
and your car door is frozen shut again,
and you're already late for work.
and it's just another calendar year.

I'm in love with the idea of belonging to no one
but I'm in love with belonging to nothing instead.
It's just another calendar year
and I'm not going to waste it wishing for a sunshine
that won't be coming anytime soon.
The weather is bi-polar, as am I.
So I appreciate the change-
because I can finally relate to something
when everyone else is stuck wishing for the sun.

I look up at the stars and realize-
we're all in different timezones
but we all share the same sky.

The hands of time seem to be speeding up my downfall
and I can't outrun the clock anymore.
These words I speak to you are frivolous and vacuous in your mind
and it seems to be thinking of ways
that you can break me down.
I will not be my father,
brought down by the circumstance in which I stand.
I will not be my mother,
letting anyone at all get under my skin and plant themselves in it.
I will not let your words grasp around my neck
and choke away any words I wish to say to you.
I have a voice, and it will be heard.

I will not be backlash for your insecurities
I will not feel bad for being me
I've spent my whole life wondering who I am
and I've found the person I have become.
I will not succumb to your paranoia and change me.
Inconsistency for me is an everyday thing
and frankly I'm tired of guessing-
waiting around each corner for a surprise attack.

This is not who I have been,
this is not who I want to be.
I should not have to sacrifice myself
just so you can be your idea of happy.

I am suffocating.
The elephant in the room is breathing all the oxygen
and my lungs have become too weak to function anymore.
The tiles of my veins are cracked upon the impact
of your expectations falling on my shoulders.
I am no soldier.

I've been drafted into a war I didn't sign up for..
I guess this is another civil war,
and I wish, oh god I wish I could be civil
in a house with no chivalry.
It's only consequential severity
of your actions and reactions
even when you take no action at all.

I am not your verbatim bully.
You will not be the hands that turn my time.
Not anymore, not this time.
I'm done choking on the tongue
I spend my days biting.

Your words are like razor blades
calling for my wrists again.
No, not again.
No, never again.

The war will end.
I will unleash every amount of ammunition I have
onto your doorstep.
Death and me have the same address.
My wrath will end you-
and subsequently me too.

I tried to find myself inside you. I crept my way into your bones and implanted myself into your memory, but it was never enough to keep the thought of you not being with me, off my mind. I tried to find myself inside you, but wound up looking into the mirror at a person I had never seen. You changed me, and I'm still trying to decide if that's a good thing. See these novels, to me, become defining characteristics of who I want to be and your eyes become an outline of what I have become. A broad reflection of all the reasons I should love myself more because you happen to. Well, I love you and if I ever had an idea of what was it, it is, well- you. You're it. Like, in a game of tag when you were seven and you felt invincible, passing the torch to another and running like your feet were on fire. I am engulfed in you. You are the flames beneath my feet, you are the fire in my eyes and you are the acid reflex in my stomach.. You are the anxiety ridden nights and the sore cheeks from smiling weeks. You are the months of complete euphoria followed by days masked with madness. My seconds with you, turn to hours and the acid from your kiss corrupts my lungs and leave me breathless, aching for nothing but your touch. The insides of my eyelids see nothing but your outline and though these words are just a mere outline of how I feel- I could never actually formulate into words the way yours linger on my skin, waiting until you *** again and again and again. It's ineffable. Unfathomable. I don't want to wake up in a world without you in it. But I have before, and I'm not sure if I can go back to living in a world- without your flames to keep me warm...

Feeling things were never easy for me-
The ticking hands of the clock without you next to me
nudged my body into something I couldn't exactly stop.
My bones shake in your embrace and sometimes not in a good way.
My presence is something that has faded into your mind,
and my heart just a page on your drawing board,
always there to give you warmth,
whenever everything else seems bleak.
This is why I am no longer your fire pit.
I should not have to blaze for you to feel my heat.
I'm tired of getting burned by my own flames
because you fail to keep it consistent.

You shook me, figuratively of course.
But your words shattered what I once saw of you,
you had been the oxygen that kept me ablaze
until you completely blew me out.
Your words turned into a windstorm and I haven't been the same since.
I'm still trying to build the walls around myself
that once kept me alive and burning,
not letting anything close enough to touch me.
But time after time you remind me that wreckage can always be rebuilt-
but there's no promises all the progress you made rebuilding
won't come crashing down again and again and again
demanding refuge, demanding attention.
you are the wreckage in my bones,
and I can't seem to fix myself anymore.

Please don't break.
Not again.
Hold it together,
you've done so well
don't let the presence of death
upon your doorstep bring you down.
The blade is faded and no longer a vice
even though it calling your name
lures you in again and again and again,
it is not your friend.

Don't do it, don't cry.
You are more than the circumstance
that surrounds you.
You are stone,
you are strong and unbreakable.
The tides of the times you've tried
are heavier than the crosses you bare
so even when that weight is upon
your frail shoulders, don't break.
Pick yourself up and get some exercise.

The scars are finally healed,
and no one can see them
no more nagging questions,
no more paranoia.
The flesh isn't just skin anymore,
it's apart of who you are,
who you've become
so don't let who you are
in this moment of turmoil
break all your progress.
You are more than this.

Tainted,
life has been that way
since you were young
and although you know
what exactly it feels like
to never catch a break
because you're held down by instances
that can't be controlled,
The chaos is mandatory
but suffering through it is not.

So tie your worries to all of your dreams
and watch the dreams carry your worries away.
Today is not a bad day.
Take off your shoes and dance in the rain.
Today is a good day.

I told you I'm sorry,
for breaking too often and not building enough,
but you told me some things are meant to be broken-
things other than my smile.
So I smiled and you told me it was like poetry,
soft, troubled but always within reason.

I watch as the days decay you,
as every inch closer  
makes you that much farther away.
It wasn't too easy with you
and it isn't so easy now with someone else.

The tips of your fingers were halfway out the door,
the bottom of your heels were close to the clouds
I knew you were never coming back to us.

This life is just a mis-categorized movie in a netflix cue.
Not exactly what you expected, but has some potential.

The beds where we lay our heads at night
could so soon turn into our coffins
and I often imagine a world where
stars are our only home
and death is just an alternate route back.

We cling to these feelings.
And if John Green can turn it into
something seemingly beautiful
why can't I?
Maybe because this is real life,
and this life comes with no storyline that's written
it takes more days than I have hands
and more thought than I have love in my heart
so I wonder why we find beauty in tragedy
and entertainment in things we don't suffer through.

We all feed off of the story lines and the drama,
the death and the heartbreak
because it makes it all seem interesting and worth it
when in reality,
no matter how much we say we want to be happy-
we're all just looking for a chance to feel something.