In the middle of the night he cried-
arms outstretched wide to his father
who was never really there
and the times when he actually was
the liquor stained lips would reply
with an adaptation of his truth-
"**** it up and be a man".
The boy looked at him with hollowed eyes
and a heavy heart and from that day on
carried a burden upon his shoulders
at the life he thought would treat him well.
But it painted dark skies over his sunset
and brought clouds to the sunniest of the days.
He was born in a world where emotion is never okay-
So the chip upon his shoulder turned into a hole
and eventually made it's way into his heart.
That chip now a disease on his insides
his brain rewired to push everything back,
to swallow his hell whole and to hell if he did
because he knew what this life was doing to him.
His insides turned to stone and he held a stone face.
As his father told him the names of all the men
he should look up to and he left any women off the list.
So as the boy grew old he found himself hiding away
his insides and never showing a hint of emotion
because he knew it would let his father down.
Outside he took his fists and misplaced them
upon four walls-
his arms outstretched around little sister's neck.
Society's genetic defect.

Someone once told me-
men are more likely to commit suicide than women
I thought about this for a while-
Women wake up everyday in fear of dark alleys and street corners
Afraid of men with any address begging to undress them-
We can't walk down the street, any street without worry.
We cannot go into the store without fear painted at our feet
We have become afraid of our own shadows.
This life has built resentment upon our shoulders
ever since the wage gap got less and less
and even now we still have work to do.
But we can't forget that society has painted a picture
of us all and they're nothing close to a self-portrait.
They're more like those fat faced comic illustrations
you get at amusement parks and laugh at
because they look nothing like you.
Us women have been taken advantage of for years-
hiding behind car keys in-between our fingers
and pepper spray on our keychains.
Men have had to hide their pain behind fake smiles
and bank accounts that are supposed to make them feel bigger.
When in reality, we all just end up feeling tiny.
We all feel like the edges of our feet are on top
of years and years of misandry and misogyny-
and although the words feminism encompass feminine
all it's really about is total, complete equality-
so now is the time to treat everyone equally.

He said that;
She kissed like her mouth was on fire and the only thing that could ever extinguish it was someone else’s tongue in the form of, I love you on her lips. And even if each movement never really felt like love she made it feel so real anyway.
Her hips moved like the oceans were begging for someone to ride the waves and she was the sand beneath the feet of many men but never made it seem that way, even if those men got to feel her warm embrace it was never considered enough to make her stay.
She was always a mystery to me and the way her lips curved under when she smiled made me envious of the way she spoke, jealous of every word that left her lips because they got to touch them again and again and again.
I hoped that a man would look at me the way men look at her, innocent and admiring of her ever-present and translucent beauty, it glowed bigger and brighter than anyone else I had ever seen. But it wasn’t her smile that made her so enticing-
He mustered up the courage to say it was her that made the outside so much better, it was the words she spoke and her intent behind them. The love she spread about with just her tongue made a mess out of my distaste for life and introversion.  So I started to question everything I had ever known.
The wind sat crooked on the back of tree branch and I wish someone would have spoken to me in sonnets the same way he looked at her in paragraphs and I wondered if my pessimism is shading my views of anyone else’s admiration but everything feels like a fairytale nowadays.
I wondered if the things he had said to me were dancing on the edge of his mind for some time now and I wondered if he looked at me that same way sometimes, but the look in his eyes told me otherwise.
The way his expression guided the moon to the eyes of everyone who was listening and entranced the ocean’s waves was something more beautiful than any amount of romantic gestures.
They kissed at high tide and made us believe in emotions that never were, dimensions of the world unseen to the human eye and it made me believe again.
She was the fire burning beneath someone’s feet and I felt as if I wanted to be a volcano, burning down everything in my path and never letting anyone close enough because they will feel the burn in between their toes once again so they’ll need to dance on the sand and wade across the ocean just to feel sane again.
I want to be the kind of girl that changes things-
I want to be the air that dances beneath my curls and reminds I’m alive again.
I want to be the ocean, so I can be water under the bridge.

I turned my hands into fists again today-
spoke only through my fingers that
wanted to scratch their way through my flesh
and find their way up into my mouth
so I could say the words that have been haunting me-
but I kept quiet and let these hands do the talking
and as my grip tightened you could feel
the outline of where my flesh used to be
and how the skin curves around my nails once again.
I made the mistake of believing these words mean anything-
anything at all to you and as I read he passed away
those words joined with every other worry I had to face that day-
I froze up like love couldn't solve a single problem
like I had never ******* learned to talk in he first place
and everything I had tried not to worry about
crawled its way out of my fists and into my mouth
but the only thing that would come out is hot air-
and no words. Silence was in my face
like a ******* step-child who needed attention
so badly they decide to fake an illness
and you can't not sympathize with them
because you're so busy feeling sorry for them
you can't help but ******* pay attention.
My eyes paid attention to my mind and my fists
and started played a game of monopoly with my eye sockets
and I keep having to go to jail again and again and again
and you know monopoly that **** never ends
So it was just me and my fists and my tears
as I thought about the way you drank away your issues
and stole pills to cover up your hurt
and made me laugh so hard that I peed myself.
I realized you were empty and hollowed out-
there was nothing inside
and now you're just a container full of dust
and I'd like to think there's a purpose for you in the afterlife
but you'll probably drink away your pain there too.
i would like to think you're happy now-
and it's ****** up all your death makes me wanna do is
drown in a bottle when that's all you ever did when you were alive.
**** why is death so hard to deal with-
it's taking these fists of mine and wrapping them around my neck
until i learn how to deal with this entire ******* mess.
You had a heart attack-
and I would like to think that's because it was so **** big
your body couldn't take it anymore and just said **** this-
and you went out with a smile on your face
but we all know that's not how this works.
That's not how life and death works.
We don't know how or why life and death works.
It just does-
always has, always will.
I wrote my will this year and it goes as follows;
Give my **** to whoever fights the hardest for it.
You can forget my ******* name-
but remember everything I wrote down
because that's all that matters.
This, is all, that matters.

My palms become greased with worry and fatigue
that maybe this time you won't ever leave
but you eventually do-
and I'm sitting here wondering how the **** I got so exhausted?
How these hands have been gripping so tightly
to the bottom of my sweater
that they don't even feel like hands anymore.
I just wish you would ******* disappear
that this world could just exist without you
and these stages I have build out of my fears
did not become mountains for you to climb upon at will.
I'm tired of always looking over my shoulder-
worried that maybe you'll be there
and it's ****** up that I worry about that
because worrying is all you ever ******* did-
I just want to feel normal again.
I want to feel like this body isn't
the wreckage in Miley Cyrus' wrecking ball video
I want to be Miley ******* Cyrus
not the broken walls and concrete at her feet-
but you make me feel this way.
Make me feel like everything I will accomplish
everything I could potentially accomplish
isn't even worth it or even within my reach for that matter.
I got a 68 on my first test of this semester-
you took that score and ran it through my head
until my insecurities triumphed over
everything you caused me to say to myself.
I am done being a misplaced embodiment of past experiences-
I will not invite you out with me anymore
and when you beg and plead
and cause me to regurgitate my fears for you
I will push you to the side-
make a shrine out of who I have become
because it's not you anymore.


Dear Anxiety-
I'm done apologizing for who you turned me into.

Sincerely, You don't control me anymore.

I'm tired of being empty bottles
and filled spaces there for your temporary usage.
I never stand too firmly on the ground
because the other foot awaits cautiously
for my next wrong move.
Even when I think I do everything right
somehow I end up breaking the empty bottles
and filling the space thats supposed to be sacred.
All I ever wanted to do was make someone else happy-
but I suppose I'm better off alone.
So take this as my open-ended apology letter
and feel free to walk away
because I am, for the last time-
for good.
Never again.

I fall sometimes-
and some days I can't get back up.
Clinging to the pangs in my stomach
left there because anxiety likes to remind me
she's still breathing-
Clinging to the knife in my side drawer
left there because I don't trust myself
and depression is right in my ear
telling me to do it again and again and again.
There's two devil's on my shoulder-
and no angel to be found.
I fall sometimes-
and end up making a home out of the ground.
Leave me here in pieces
I've always picked them up alone anyway.

1) You were always really judgmental of my friends, like there was a point behind your reasons for always being timid, there was.. I was oblivious and you told me things, the things you saw, that I should've realized a long time ago. I've been better since the alcohol left-
2) I never believed in the idea of love- always blinded by what I thought was mutual infatuation when it was really just my incessant fixation on the idea of.. You called me gorgeous the first day we hung-out and that was the first time anyone ever did. I fell for you fast and hard and that was the first and only time I ever have.
3) When you talk about the things that interest you or make you happy, your face lights up and your words become sonnets of admiration and everything you say sounds like poetry as it leaves your lips. I live for this.
4) I was kind of a child when we met, hardheaded and stubborn in my ways- never letting anyone close enough to scratch the surface but you made me realize that what was behind the surface was so so much better.
5) You made me love who I am, from my hip bones that beg to rip through my flesh to my nose and the way it sort of takes up half my face- you made me fall in love with myself again when I didn't think I ever would.
6) You give me a reason to have a lust for the life I live and I may be hard headed and stuck in my dark depths of depression but you're always there to lend a hand when needed.
7) Though you taught me only I can help myself back up, you will be there to keep me from falling down again.
8) The way you like really weird things most people wouldn't take a second glance at shows me that you find fascination in the beauty and the balance rather than just the image. You paint a bigger picture with your opinion and turn it beautiful every single time.
9) The way you get angry when someone wakes you up too early, or too aggressively- but you still find time to turn and tell me you love me.
10) This is the part where I start to cry because I was never really good with emotions and I'm spilling all of them just for you. This is the most naked I've felt even without a single piece of clothing on, but you'd still probably think I was beautiful.
11) I threw my phone across the room in a fit of rage but you held me anyway.
12) You always get more punch buggies than me- but on a good day I get more than you and can rub it in your face as long as I can, until the next time you win again.
13) I really didn't think a year could feel this short but with you I feel like my life here could last an eternity.
14) We fight sometimes and you always let me talk until I'm blue in the face which takes a while and even though you fall silent in times I wish you would scream or cry or give me something- you still find a way to calm me.
15) I love the way you're protective over me and sometimes I get overwhelmed by it but secretly it's really flattering because I've never really had someone look out for me. Ever.
16) You make me feel safe in a world that is filled with darkness and violence and tragedy, but you make it all seem so so far away when you're lying next to me.
17) When you are lying next to me, holding me close to your chest and kissing me on my head- it's almost therapy.
18) Though you tell me you love me with words, you also show me. Chivalry isn't dead ladies; yes my boyfriend opens doors for me- eat your hearts out.
19) You make everyday feel better than the last and you put up with my constant worry that someday you're gonna up and leave for no reason- but you don't.
20) I spent my 19th birthday with you and will now spend my 20th and every day since then has gotten better with you even when it seemed like everything was going to fall apart again- we kept it together.
21) You turned 21 last year but you don't really like alcohol-
22) You did what I thought was the impossible- made me believe in love.