Currently-
I'm sitting in a room drinking coffee too hot for my mouth.
I endure the pain, it is what I'm used to by now.

Currently-
I have like 10 thoughts in my head
not one of them relating to another.

Currently-
Nothing can hurt as bad as where my mind can travel
here in this room
when I'm trying to focusing on everything else
but all I can hear are whispers in my ear
and hands on my body as a young girl.
You found me then and you've found me now.

Currently-
My Spanish exam is today and I'm tired
of thinking about conjugations and commands.
Moriremos! Let's die.
Don't worry this exam will do it for me.

Currently-
See I'm racking my brain trying to understand you
why you did what you did
and why it hurt me so much
but I can't seem to find an answer.

Currently-
I'm thinking about when I was molested
and I think about how every time I write about it
and show my boyfriend he sometimes
thinks the undertones and contexts are about him
considering I only use metaphors to explain the situation
I'm never blunt in poetry.
Why does he think they are always about him?

Currently-
Two cups of coffee deep and my hands can't stop shaking
I got inspired by my own writing
which is weird.
It never happens so I'm taking it for what it's worth.

Currently-
my mind is running on 100 mg of Lamictol
and 5 mg of busiphrone so I start to wonder
if these thoughts have become synthetic.
Configured inside a laboratory filled with people
who have no idea what I go through on a daily basis
yet they are trying to figure me out
place me inside a box I don't want to be in.
Funny, my alarm just rang.
55 milligrams of small white pills down the hatch again.
This is all becoming too unrealistic.

Currently-
I'm thinking about all the things I shouldn't know.
How the girl that's ******* around with my friend
has ****** way more guys than she says
but I lied to make him feel better, it's not my place.
Besides it's none of anyone's ******* business but her own.
I think about how my friend found a lump on her breast
and how she didn't tell me about it
probably because my grandma died this month
5 years ago. Wow. 5 whole years. It hurts.
So does the idea of losing my best friend.

Currently-
Death is always on my mind
but in this moment it's more than it has been
within in the past couple of months.
But the coffee burns my mouth and reminds
me why alive can mean pain, but it can also mean
sweet taste and warmth.
Warmth, I think about your mouth
and what it could've felt like on mine that night.
I was too hurt to think about anyone
except the heart that was cracked inside myself.
10, 9, 8....  
I'm trying not to think about it,
how turning back time would be cool just so I could know.
But I don't, and I have a boyfriend- sort of.
Can't go there right now. Trying to write a poem.

Currently-
Everyone who has ****** me over
has become or stayed my friend afterwards
and I start to think about how ****** up that is
because they didn't want me as a lover
but were fine with just my friendship
it's painful knowing they all got what they wanted
and I was left with always wondering what if.
It's funny how I know things from the moment they happen.
"She has such a weird face" was actually code for
"I'm eventually going to **** her, I just want to make you feel better and like I won't but I will"
I'm still bitter.

Currently-
How should I end this piece
now it doesn't feel at all like poetry just a bit of rambling.
I feel the lining of my gums
how they are repairing themselves from the damage
of my mouth being ripped from words I wish I could say but can't.
But here I am, saying them anyway.
I start to wondering if anyone knows
these words I speak.
and how I sometimes wonder if I'm dyslexic
because I always spell words backwards.
like backdarws or fkuced up.
Even in another language.
Too chicken to find out, so I guess I'll never know.

Currently-
there are more than 10 currently's
but I don't seem to give a **** anymore.
I think about how the pain stops when I write
how one focus can make a huge difference.
I burned my mouth again
and it made me laugh for the first time
since Sunday morning.
It's not sweet enough.
Neither am I.

Currently-
I think about how easy it is to change my clothes and my hair
and how easy it could be to pack up and just leave.
But I have this overwhelming feeling that I can't
let everyone down.
The coffee has gotten cold
and my patience has run dry.
My heart is heavy with these words
I try to make pretty,
but there is no makeup for these words
no concealer you can use to hide the blemishes.
If there were they would be metaphors
and this poetry would be the final product.
But you can put a mask on the truth
and I don't think I would ever want to.

Currently-
I'm thinking about how happy you make me
and how dysfunctional things can be between us.
But I don't know how to be with anyone else
and I don't really want to.

Currently-
I'm thinking about my Spanish exam again.
******.

these words hurt too much to write down.
too busy trying to make everything sound perfect
but too insecure to let myself fail.
so in this instance I just don't try.
let all of my work go unwritten
just like the scars on my legs go unnoticed
and my pain gets overlooked.
I'm not a good writer anymore
I don't think I ever was
but there are some words I can string
together like a symphony to make anyone believe in me
but this is just a facade
just a game we all like to play
but I'm out of chips now-
I have nothing left to give anymore
and I'm walking through life
like it's a keyboard I don't have to look at
because I already know where this is going
I already know where everything is.
Wanting to write reeks havoc on my insides
not being able too makes it all worse for me again.
I string these lines together but they're always out of tune.
my mind is always two steps away from every edge
I walk upon and somehow I walk over them.
Down for the count and I'm tired of writing in first person.
Tired of being this person.
my point of view is blurred
and so are these words in front of me.
existing doesn't feel too good anymore
and it seems as if everyone is trying to tell me otherwise.
believing them would be nice
trusting someone again would be nice
but these are not things my mind is equipped to handle.
So I try to handle as much as I can at once
and just hope it doesn't take me over that edge.
these hands on these keys make mistakes
but somehow I always know when and where to correct them.
being okay is such a foreign concept to me
and I don't have any real reason to not be right now
but i'm still not sure why everything hurts so much
maybe I haven't dealt with the parts of my life I should have
and maybe they're just waiting in the back of my mind
to attack the person I have become
because sometimes, in the dead of the night
these thoughts will creep up to me.
when I'm cold and lonely
they'll tap me on the shoulder-
remind me they're still there to help me stay down when I fall.
They know balance has never been my forte.
I guess that's why I can never hold on to anything

My sky came crashing down on a saturday night
I looked outside myself and saw the mess I made of it.
My bones were shattered and my psyche torn apart
I never thought I would let it get this far.
Maybe if I stopped myself from loving-
pumped the brakes and stopped
to look both ways
things would've turned in a different direction for me
But I suppose I wasn't supposed to break-
that just sent me into a hydroplane
because everything I know of is drowning.
Maybe if I wouldn't have been so distracted
so worried about losing sight of the road
the fatal crash wouldn't have taken place.
But I am here, bleeding and broken
and you are there
looking, staring from the outside of this ambulance
when all I wanted was for you to
hold my hand through this car ride
I'm not sure I'll make it out of alive.
You just mouthed the words "I'm sorry"
and the paramedic kept on driving
I watched you pretend I wasn't hurting.
These crashes happen often
because I was never good at controlling things-
the pattern repeats every time
another sorry slips from your lips
and I wonder if you care to know
how bad this actually is.
It was like before the storm
all you knew was my happy
and when it rains
you don't seem to know me.
You don't want to get your feet wet
but I've brought you umbrellas
on days when you were so under the weather
you couldn't seem to get up-
took your hand and held it until the sun came again.
But the storms keep coming for me
and when I try to convince you they will pass
I don't think you believe me anymore.
I know I am unpredictable
and overwhelming-
that these tires are too worn now
to handle this kind of weather-
but I am driving anyway
heading into an unknown direction anyway
because I know when I get there
the sun will be shining
but I'm not sure if you'll be there to share that with me.
You're stuck on I'm sorry's and apologies
for things they aren't your fault.
You can't control the weather-
but it would be nice if you could bring me an umbrella
it would be nice if we could see the sunshine together
but you're stuck in reverse
longing for a path you can no longer take.
I'm tired of waiting for your reign to be over.

It's ironic to think about how I had someone once.
The kind of person who would
"insert literally any cheesy metaphor here" and he would have.
But I was too scared to want that for myself.
Too terrified of my emotions to let them into me.
I wish I could turn back time.
Before I was all ruins and dust of those who have walked all over me.
Sometimes I think it a dream,
that this life I'm living isn't really me
That the girl with the dark brown hair
never dyed it because she wanted change from a boy who broke her heart that she ended up running back to anyways.
Now her hair, heart and pride are all damaged.
She isn't treated the way she needs to be. And any chance of that happening isn't likely. She chose her fate but it wasn't wisely.
She didn't think she deserved to be happy.
So now she's not.
And she can't seem to let go of the boy with the canvas across his chest because she finds beauty when he breathes.
But he doesn't give her a second look most days.
Only acknowledges what's in front of him when it's there, not when it may not be anymore.
He often thinks too much into himself.
They are both too insecure to love each other properly
and too insecure to let each other go.
We are the best of friends but the worst of lovers.
And there could've been the love of my life somewhere before or inbetween but I never seem to do things according to plan.
These paths across my thighs are like a roadmap for my lonely and you have never dared to look in their direction because you don't know this pain I feel under my clothes.
How every inch of me is covered but it still feels so open and exposed.
I've never hated anyone more than myself.
Not even the ******* who stole my childhood
because I hate myself for letting him.
I shouldn't put so much blame on a girl who has never had guidance. Built myself from the ground up and it seems I am not finished yet. There is still work to be done.

I asked him to stay-
but his hands were wrapped around my throat.
I insisted anyway.
No words I could think to formulate
other than to convince him to not leave me.
Stay.
The words crumble like weak knees amongst a dying friend.
You realize these things when you're close to the edge.
About to jump.

He didn't need my convincing-
His eyes struck me solid
Half past twelve and his five o clock shadow
was the only shade of midnight I care to remember.
You took the time to hold my hands and now they're just spinning.

Clockwise mindset.
A reminder I am set in my ways.
The alarm clock sings-
Tells me there are still things I have to remind myself to remember.
But what good is memory when it is a shell casing of a bullet
that was supposed to be lodged inside of your brain but it missed.
Left you with a hole
and now you can't remember where you came from.

I am moving on from this.
From the hands of yours stuck around my throat
keeping me from keeping him close.
You are nothing to me now-
Just a shadow not even a ghost
Not even a figure I can make out inside of my mind anymore.
You are nothing-

I realize my time is up when the clock strikes.
Father Time says to me
That not everything is set in stone
And these hands will continuing turning
even on days the watch is broken.
So watch out for yourself.

These minutes should remind me
to forget your face in the background.
Ignore the ticking when it comes
and tries to remind me why I take these pills.
Just take them.
Do not bury your hurt inside a foreign memory
that doesn't know how to speak the language of recovery.
Because these hands,
They will continuing turning
even when my watch is broken
Even on days when I am too.

You broke me -
Shattered me to pieces.
Afterwards I was laying on the ground and you still somehow
made me feel sorry for you.
The feet you used to walk on my heart were now bleeding
and I was in even more pieces.

I tried to put myself back together
for you.
Heal the wounds
that are now just scars.
But I keep looking at them
Obsessing over how they got there.

I'm still in ******* pieces
And don't know how to put myself back together
You don't give a ****.
Because
You're better now.
I'm not.
But that doesn't matter
Because you can still see yourself
in the pieces I am now.
I still show you your reflection.

I stuck around for you.
Hoping you would help fix me
Hoping you would help me fix myself.
Instead you just stood there and watched me struggle.
Admiring your handy work.

These hallowed halls remind me of myself-
the way I would attempt
to see the sunlight on days
there was nothing but darkness.

I'm always writing about
how I can't breathe.
It would be nice to know
what oxygen feels like,
what living before you feels like.
But I do not live in that world-
not anymore.

You reside in the skin under my nails
and the corners of my eyelids.
Buried beneath these things
I will never notice-
but utilizing a place so important.
Nothing kept me going
not the sun or the stars
or even the idea that love exists.
Nothing has.
It only hinders my progress-
people like to run away
return their investment
for something they bought prior
or for something that seems so much better.
No one wants damaged goods.
No one sees the potential they have
to become your favorite thing.

You ruined my life,
and continue to.
Every time you are far behind me
you catch a flight and find me again.
You are the reason I cannot breathe correctly-
or love enough, or trust in someone.
You are the reason I cling to what's terrible for me.
I wish all of this was an over exaggeration for art.
I wish this wasn't my truth.
But it is.
I have to deal with it-
I wish you did too...

This time of year always breaks me again.
Skipping over these days would help me breathe
but theres no livelihood inside of me
only misandry and misery.

Just know that you have ruined me-
know you have succeeded.
Lastly, you won't find me where I'm going
so don't even try to look.