I have broken down more walls
than I can count on these fingers
they are too busy clenched into a fist.

I have broken down barriers
in hopes of betterment and redemption
my arms have grown weak under this pressure.

I'm weighing the pros and cons
of survival on the tops of shoulders
so it's safe to say I'm grounded
safe to say these bones feel heavy

I speak only when spoken too nowadays
but the look on my face reads third person omniscient-
anyone can get inside my head
my body language is written that way.
Too fragile to speak up,
Too stubborn to sit down.

I'm tired of these walls
holding me back
and these barriers
keeping me on the outskirts
of my own life.
My mouth is just a drawbridge
these words drown
in the wading water underneath

I have broken down more walls
  than I have written poetry
only to realize I have built them myself
only to realize I have written them myself.

We have been hanging off the edge of this cliff
and love isn't strong enough to keep us holding on,
the more my hands yearn for your embrace
the closer we get to the ground.
I see safety in your eyes
and an universe in your smile-
I wish you could see all the things that I do.
The edge is getting sharp again-
I'm the only one holding on.
You crawled your way up and looked down at me,
contemplated if you wanted to be the one that saves us.
But my voice keeps incessantly shouting "pls save me"
all the while you try but I keep telling you more effective ways
so you shout back "save yourself" and walked away.  
You are tired of being the muse I spill my paint upon
the therapist in the chair I spill my heart out to.
I have made many mistakes
and this anxiety keeps me on the edge waiting-
waiting for someone to save me because I am too weak.
Some days I can almost pull myself up,
my feet feel friction upon the rocks and continue on-
but as soon as I get high enough to feel the wind upon my cheeks
the same wind knocks me down again-
telling me ways I should try again
convincing me, it's my only friend.

My limbs have grown tired from hanging on-
yours have grown tired too.
You ache from carrying my weight upon your shoulders
time after time again.
I try to help by pushing myself up
honing in all my strength one last time
but I stumble and my foot falls from under me-
I subsequently drag you down with me
and all I wanted to hear from you is
"there's no place else I'd rather be"
but how would that be any consolation
if we're both falling, broken and vacant?
I finally let go and fell to my fate-
I see you looking down at me
I guess love can't fix everything.

I fell into you,
fast and without warning.
It just kind of happened,
you and me.
I think, that’s how I know.
I didn’t have time to over think,
or second guess myself.
We fell into each other
and your warm embrace
comforted me, like I’d never felt before.

I smiled at the sight of how your eyes lit up,
in a way that could intensify a city skyline
whenever you looked into mine.
I forgot what it felt like to laugh
and smile, and love.
But you reminded me so easily.

Without hesitation,
I fell for you.
I let fate take it’s course
and I haven’t looked back since.
You’re the one I want to always be with.

The idea of forever seems, irrational.
But with you, it all makes sense.

I've wanted to die since I was Seven-
see everyone always told me things would get better
that as time passes so would the hurt.
But it's now 13 years later
and the hurt is still present.
Still painted across my face
like this smile I wear
to show everyone how ******* good
I am at faking it.
My whole life has been a fiction novel at my lips-
the happiness has always been just a white lie.
If time heals all wounds
why am I still in so much pain?

I would like to be happy for other writers because they're a lot like me and in the same sense not anything like me. But these words upon these pages can't help but reel me in, whispering sinister secrets into my ears, telling me not to let in anyone and keep my pen to my self. These words are my wreckage and these bones thrive off of the ink that spills, spills into my veins until I'm not sure I have much competition anymore. It's a rush, an escape and a piece of nirvana flowing through my body. But I cannot help the fact I feel insecure. Everything I've ever done, or have accomplished has been overlooked or taken away. Not this time. I will write until my hands are sore until the crippling pain of arthritis makes me no longer capable of using my hands. I will then use my words to encompass the page because all I'll really need is like text to talk or something by then right? **** since the age of about 6, I knew this was my lighthouse, my way home when I couldn't see the grass in front of my feet. My way out of the dark corners and into the arms of those I love. The lifeboat I needed when drowning in the same sorrows as my mother or when I was drowning in the bottle like my father. This is my sanity, and in the same sense my downfall. So when I stand here and recite for you, write for you and smile and shake my head and tell you all these things about myself not many people know, realize it takes more than these ten fingers, these two legs, and this one thumping, beating out-of-my-chest heart to be this exposed and this naked. Usually at times like these, if i'm not shaking like a leaf I would be picturing you all as puppies, but now I'm just picturing you all as my family, my close to home even though I'm not sure what home feels like anymore but if I had to pick, and someone asked me on the spot, this would be it, you all would be it. So when it comes to writing there is no winner, or loser or anything in-between, there is you and there is me, pen and paper, shaky voice and butterflies knees, right here is sanity.

I don't feel it anymore,
the desire to chase something not within my reach.
It's like I have spent my life asleep at the wheel
unable to control any cognitive function available to me.
I will not marry a man like my father
but the idea is merely impossible
when the hands that tore apart our family,
have similar finger prints to every man I've ever known.
You cannot find anyone who doesn't remind you,
at least a little bit of someone else you know.
Someone you love so dearly to hate.
I will not adapt to those around me
I will grow lonesome and on my own
because that's how it's been for 18 years.
I do not flourish in your embrace
I wilt and wither and crumble.
Wake up, realize you are dreaming
that the only reason you stay
is because you feel less alone.

he has undone
my insides
and on the outside
I am fine.

But the little girl
underneath all of these clothes
is screaming for me to notice her.

and I don't
history repeats itself
and even I see myself
as too much to pay attention to

I can't help but feeling nostalgic.

For I have seen myself
crying alone in a mirror
too many times to count
and I have hurt myself
alone facing a mirror
more times than I can count.

I am tired of these numbers
wrapping themselves around my neck
as if age is just another death sentence
as if these years spent are the chair
kicked out from under me.

I am hanging by a thread.
washed up and worn out-
all on the idea that
things can get better
and that these problems
are not the reasons
I am drowning
like these thoughts
are not anchors to my illness.

I thought I was making progress-
but instead I was staying stagnant.
Awaiting the next tragedy
so I could pity myself again.

This is not what recovery
is supposed to look like.

His hands are all over me
on the same nights I wish to die
it sort of feels like high school again.

Curled up
using my own tears
to wipe off my makeup
I spent little time putting on
because I care just enough
but not enough.

My best friend dies-
he is there
laughing at the timeline of my progression
telling me if he could've
he would've came back a long time ago
to diminish me himself.
But he realized he has already done that
so he smiles at the thought of it.

My timeline has been thrown aside
kicked away like the chair beneath my feet.
What is holding me up anymore?

I saw her too
sitting there
all to aware of existence
so I made conversation.
The guilt struck over her eyes
like she was playing the memory
in her head when she saw me.
We talked about her hair,
and my job
and my brother.

All I could think about
were how my insides were rotting.
How my face showed a **** good facade
because all I wanted to ******* do was crack
and break and dissipate into nothingness.

Here I am now,
standing on the edge of relapse
and sanity
thinking about how good my life was
encompassed with tragedy
before I knew how happiness felt
before I knew how good I could have it.

Take me back,
to the black in my mind
and the ignorance in my skin.

Wear me out
and spread me thin.

I am tired of taking up all of this space.
I am tired of you breaking my head.

No progression,
only stay-put
only just here
only barely floating.

Maybe,
not even that.

The distorted thing about being in love is you're always questioning if the hands you hold are honest or if their intentions go deeper than just modesty, if everything you've worked so hard for is just to occupy a space in their sheets. You bought me ice cream once, I didn't even have to ask you to, you just put it in my mailbox and told me to walk out and look inside. It had a little yellow post-it note on it. That was when I realized no one had ever done that for me before, no one had ever went out of their way to show their appreciation for me. But that was the last time something like that happened because the moment I became yours, you stopped trying. The sad thing is I stay with you because I believe all I deserve are nice words with no action to back them up. When in reality, I deserve someone who would move mountains for me, travel a million miles just to see me smile because I would do that much for someone. I'm sorry I feel so worthless but nothing makes me feel otherwise. I don't ask for too much but you are too selfish with your ways.  This relationship is a two way street, but yours in under-construction and blocked off to any hope of getting to you. I wish I could make you understand the way the things you do ******* my mentality and make me wish to god I didn't have such a big heart. Maybe I shouldn't have given you so much of myself just so you can throw it all away and pick it all up again whenever you do so choose. I guess this is what I deserve and maybe you were brought into my life to make me realize I will never be that person everyone else thinks I am. I will never deserve more than what I receive from you.

I have become nothing
in the hands of my abusers
just skin cells
collecting dust under beds
I only remember the smell of.

Please don't look at me
I am only a fraction of a person now.
The other parts of me
linger on the bodies of those
who barely remember what they did.

Who smirk at the idea
because they got what they wanted.
I am scatter-brained and shattered
at the thought of them.

Intimacy trying to make its way
past carbon fiber memory.
Not once has it gotten through.

There are three faces I see
when someone is inside of me
Theirs, hers and his.

Each getting something they want from me
Stealing away what I once held so close and so sacred.

I never want this,
and I'm not sure I even did the first time.

Shouldn't it be special?
Why does it make my heart break?

Why do I not even remember
the way it happens half the time.
I remove myself from the idea of closeness
in hopes all of these ideations go unnoticed
and I sink into the bedsheets

Slip into the space
between the box spring
and the floor board.
My favorite hiding place.
Nothing but dust in my wake.

you spoke to me words like poet-
made me second guess every decision that leaves my lips
and as the staggering giant that is my mistakes
shades the sunlight from my life
I still find a way to see the sun sometimes.
I try not to break-
try not to let the world see me shake
and tremble from my fear of tomorrow
but these nerves they get the best of me.
As I am slow dancing to Sinatra
I remembered the way you looked into my eyes
and the things you said to me.
How I wished the dance floor
was a time machine so I go back
and do it all over again.
Just you and I-
but I know the look in my eye
must still show you the same way I've felt
each and every single day since I met you.
Hands heavy from being the weight you carry
heavy in your heart and even heavier on your sleeve
I am blissfully naive and I wish I couldn't see
they way you look at me anymore
because it hurts too much
when I want nothing but to become one with the sky.
So fly me to the moon,
and let me live amongst the stars
because the look in your eyes
saved me from a lot of tragedy-
but don't let me be your downfall.
I don't want to be your downfall.

I hope for second chances in life, not those in which I don’t deem myself worthy of at least. I mean, I want another chance to speak these words to an open canvas of people and watch the expressions that fill their faces as I spill my guts on their shoes and reveal a little more about myself than they would infer someone my age had went through. I long for that gaze. It is filled with sorrow and regret and love and peace all in the same moment and I think that’s the only time I have experienced euphoria. I believe in life there always lies a second chance at something, or someone. But the second I chance that second of chance I become deranged and paranoid and I succumb to the pressures my anxiety puts me under and wonder when she will stop being such a psychotic ***** and give me a chance to live my life again. I haven’t been the same since the Effexor filled my veins and I’ve been scratching at my surface ever since, looking for a chance to find myself again.

my heart hurts worse now than it ever did before.
it will be five whole years in a couple of days
and I hate how bad it still hurts me you're gone.
I still wish you were inside of that room
but not so sick anymore.
I wish it would've been me.
why couldn't it have been me.
I miss you more now than I did-
and it seems the hurt only gets worse.
I just got my heartbroken again
and I have no one to turn to anymore
you were the only one who knew me
and how I tried to hide so much from the pain
it made me miss you before you were even gone.
I want to be gone now
but I know you would be mad at me for that
so I won't
I'll stay here because you couldn't
but I would rather be up there with you.

You were my serendipity-
but turned into my catastrophe.
Found you when I wasn't looking
but now I see where that left me.
You were modest in nature,
I was always running with the wolves
but even with my instincts-
you still somehow ruined me.
Never saw it coming-
like how I just stopped rhyming.
Never saw it coming-
no such thing as perfect timing.
You were my sweet serendipity
nothing will ever hurt me like you.
Inconsistent stature-
you were my natural disaster.

Never feeling anything became my safe haven at a young age. Most days, the only thing I wished for was some reassurance, or some kind of mild affirmation. My days were spent bottling emotions because where I come from, feeling things gets you nowhere. The sickness that overcame my mind became who I was. Negligence molded my personality and I wound up in more compromising positions than I can count on both hands. Naivety became someone else's malevolence and my imminent downfall.

Recently, I have learned to feel the things I've always kept bottled up- so these emotions are new for me. When the wave of sadness overcomes me it's never just that; it's crippling and exhausting, and hard to manage most days. I never just feel something simply. Anger is always rage, jealousy is always extreme envy and insecurity becomes suicidal tendencies. This is all so new, and i'm not sure it will ever not be because I've spent 18 years hiding every single thing I felt for the benefit of someone else. Now these bottled up extremities are flooding over me like a tidal wave I cannot escape from. This is my high tide and I wish I could make you understand.

You come from love, attention, reprimanding and affection. I come from neglect, dollar signs, bruises and empty bottles. Where there was a vacation or a trip, there was a 4th grader walking an entire cruise ship alone in the middle of the night. Where there was affection, there was a command shortly following. I don't want to let my past effect my future but it's made me who I am. I will never apologize for who I've become because I don't exactly know who that person is. I cannot fault you for your flaws, even though they are little to none. But I am forever wishing these actions of mine didn't seem so foreign to you.

I ******* hate myself
and I mean that in the nicest way.
I am the only one who loves myself
with a fiery burning rage.
But who also has the desire
to slit open the scars
I have left for myself.

It's like I'm my own back stabbing
***** of a best friend-
when all the world is sinking in
on these tainted shoulders
I'm the one who picks myself back up
because who else would?

I am as bipolar as the weather is
where I live and if you lived here
you'd think that was funny
but I find it kind of sad
that when the weather turns gray
and the sun is too shy to show it's beauty
that's the time I fall to my knees
and shout "no one loves me"
because maybe the sun is my security.
Or maybe my depression is seasonal,
either way I am one with mother nature
because she may be unpredictable
but you admire that about her
no matter how much **** we put her through
and ******* we feed her,
she's still there to make us cautious
that we will be struck by her lightening.

One day when my palms are sweaty
and my knees are weak
and theres nothing I can do to let go
of the bottle that is clenched to my chest
I will remember that I love myself best
and if I succumb to my own abuse
that makes me weak and frail
and kind of fickle if you think about it.

My mind is an escape and a prison,
kinda like going on vacation
where there's a construction site
right next door to your hotel
but you don't mind because
the beach is in walking distance.

I guess it's kind of hard to explain
where I come from and where my head
is currently at but I guess all I can say is-
There is gold at the end of the rainbow
but everyone's *** looks a little different.

i’ve spent days giving you,
valleys and oceans of myself.
I have spent weeks investing
whatever I had left into
something i’m not sure
even works anymore.

I have felt deceit and treachery,
I’ve known the heartbreak that is love
but I never thought affirmation
would become like a drug
withheld from my hands
and ripped from my lips.

I have searched for sanity,
in several different places
but only found it in you,
so I’m sorry if these oceans
are too much
and these valleys
not enough
but I have given you my all
and gotten back only pieces

so forgive me,
if i feel this isn’t fair treatment
and forgive me
for expecting so much more.
all i ever ask for are
rose petals and kisses.
but i’m starting to think
that’s just too much.

I can’t help but live inside my head
and play all the games it invites me to,
but I guess that’s how we’re sane.
My love for you remains

but can you say the same?

you walked swiftly in and out of our lives
and left footprints along the way.
The alleyways you danced through
and the homes you left your mark in
all mean something to this world.
You smelled of ***** and cigarettes
your teeth were stained yellow
and your gut told war stories
of nights you've spent dealing with your mania.
You lost your best friend
and then you lost yourself
I don't think you were ever the same after that day.
Always a black sheep, sitting in the back seat
waiting for the car crash to come.
T-bone you straight to your heart so no more pain is felt
and that's what happened.
Your heart gave up around the same time you did.
Didn't let us know the infection living inside your bones
how your lungs were rotten and hallowed out
because of all the things you tried to keep down
because of all the things you washed down.
I think this is for the best-
the hands became too heavy to hold your heart
and your body followed suit
it's not a full house without you in it.
The humor never left your side
even when the gray went from your hair to your face
you still spoke like you were on a stage
like you had to prove to everyone
you were still worth something-
that you were something aside from family.
The black sheep that lost a chance at a heard
when his companion shed their skin for salvation
and took the kin along with them.
This doesn't feel like the reality you were in-
I still think it a dream sometimes
and but I know you have found your happy.
The same thing that took your love away
took you away
and I'd like to think thats irony at it's finest
but it's really just a sick twisted
twist of fate we have all fallen dizzy to.
Wake me when this ends-
remind me everything will be okay again.
We were hesitant to invite you to family events
because of the drunken nights you drove away
when you probably shouldn't have
but thanksgiving is coming and you won't be there..
Thanksgiving is coming and you won't be there.
I'm still trying to convince myself I am awake.

I wish people would stop telling me to get better-
stop letting my words lingering upon their minds
like these emotions I possess are even under my control
things aren't that simple for me.
I hid myself away for months on end
just to learn how to deal with myself again.
I became the only friend I ever needed.
I thought I fixed myself-
but the world was too much
and I had to resort to solitude again.
I wish people would stop saying it's all in my head-
I know it is but it's not something I can rid of
it's in my head which means it's apart of me
every single ******* day.
I wish normalcy was easy to come by  
and I wish these emotions I felt weren't so ******* extreme.
Nothing for me is just happy, or sad.
It's not just black and white anymore
it's shades of the gray and the off-white inbetween
it's dark blue and hints of purple upon a clear sky-
indigo tears on a white sheet of paper
they stain me, from the inside out and they stick.
Permanent marker etched upon my brain chemistry
there's no magic eraser to clean up this mess.
I didn't make this for myself
it was made out of nature and nurture
and circumstance and I stand here
holding my heart out to whoever will listen
just so they know this battle I'm fighting
isn't self inflicted, I didn't enlist myself
I was drafted into this war
the day I was cognitive enough of my emotions
I was shipped off.
Indigo heart upon my sleeve-
I just want someone to realize this side of me
Someone that will say I love you
and I will help you be happy.
I know misery loves company
but I'd rather be alone-
than bring someone down with me.
All I need is some understanding-
because I can hold my own hand in a time of need
but I need someone to tell me-
it's okay to be this way.
All I've ever been is too much
I want to be enough
show me I'm enough.

It's funny how conversation can change things,
and how the words that spill from my mouth
aren't the same ones you paint upon my skin.
The days that decay you are the same that betray you
and your lips quiver at the thought of it.
Would you still hold me close at night
if I would have never sparked the conversation.
If all my effort ran dry and you held the canister
would you use it to help me bloom
or would you let me slowly wither away?
I am done being the one man machine
for this two-way street.
It takes two to tango and I'm dancing alone,
drenched in sweat while you watch from the sidelines.
I don't think you know what it's like
or do you? and is that why you pause before every choice?
Are you too scorned by your past to realize -
I need you to try for me,
and maybe this is me being selfish
or spoiled or something
but I don't want to feel like one of the games on your shelf
I don't want to have to grasp you by the jaw
just so you give me something to work with.
There is no conclusion if your words are elusive.
I just want mid-day 'I love you' reminders
or appreciation pictures of us together.
I don't need too much, just a little is enough.
The hands that hold me up
consequently are the same ones that hold me back.

I've decided to give up on the things that make me happy because in the end I end up ******* it up anyway. I ****** up. I made the wrong choice and I am stuck here wishing that by some stretch I would obtain some life threatening disease so my ****** up tendencies would stop hurting people. But **** THAT because no matter what I think of myself, I am a good ******* person. You showed me that and I hate you for it, because apart of me is wishing I didn't think of you all the ******* time and about how much we have in common or how much I want to punch you in the throat because you know me way better than I could ever possibly know myself. I am ******* broken and the only time I feel whole is when I am with you but that feeling is far few in-between nowadays. I asked for help, I was trying to reach out to you in hopes things didn't change but I know they have. And it breaks my ******* heart with each passing day. These thoughts that encompass my mind are made up of what I have become and no one is safe from these hands that will break everything within their reach. So I give up on these things so many people want to cling to, I give up. Nothing is worth it anymore. I am destruction. Wait for it.

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'm so ******* sick and tired of being just someone to you. I start to wonder if it matters who I am or if the presence of a body is all you need by your side to provide you with comfort at night. The friends and the nights of sleep I have lost for you are mountains in comparison of what you've given up for me- which is minimal, maybe just some time and your sanity. Your hands have held onto me for so long you don't remember what it feels like to be without. The cold between your fingers has been long overdue and I have been so worried about you getting frostbite I forgot to keep myself warm so I am left with a frozen heart. I would build you monuments and you would tell me it blocks the view of your precious sunset. I would sail the entire see to grab the sun and bring it back to you and you would tell me your skin is burning from the intensity. So it seems to me nothing I do, no amount of effort I put in will ever be enough, but at the same time it will be too much. So is it asking a lot to want the same treatment in return? All I ask is for adventures and surprises, maybe a second out of your day where you do something for my benefit.. But you're too busy stuck inside the monument I built for you and basking in the rays of the sun I brought to you only to never realize that I am frozen in your embrace. Parts of myself have been lost inside your arms, and hidden away beneath your sheets. I do not like what I've become, a mere shell casing of who I've been. Extrovert turned introvert by love's sinister embrace.

I try to push it away,
the angst in my heart and my overwhelming desire to run-
run far away from whatever makes it hurt so much to be alive
and the only thing that makes it worth living
is being outsourced and ostracized
and I can't seem to shut out all the negativity that comes with it.
In the dead of the night as the sun rests easy on my side of the world
it is working twice as hard somewhere else
and the moon continues to remind me of that.
Resting is never in the plans for the sun and the moon
and the ocean and the sands
because the sun always rises and sets
and the seas always reaches out for you to touch it
and I think that's what we both have in common..
always wanting to be felt and seen and touched
just admired and appreciated
for these tides make the world a better place
and these hands make your world a better place
I don't mean to be bigoted when saying that-
It's just the light in my life was dim
before you went and changed me
and yours was scolding with heat
so no one would ever want to try and change it
but hands heavy, and fingers that have written about darker days
I took the chance and changed you anyways
and now our days spent together are filled with light.
We are no longer two dimly lit rooms-
because there is me and there is you
and together we make mountains
glow upon the sunrise
and darkness seems just like a distant memory.
My hands press these keys so vividly
like Beethoven and his symphonies
and moonlight drifts through the air
like a silhouette and we dance with our bodies intertwined-
because I am yours and you are mine
and this darkness doesn't exist much anymore
only on days when the mind that writes these words
can't think of ways to write the inner demons away
but I know when that time comes
and I want to drown in the seas that once saved me
I will remember you are here with me
and we can float together to make oceans
of what we have been through and just swim.
Just swim until we know we are at our destination
because we are no longer two dimly lit rooms-
we are spotlights and sunrise-
the florescent shine in your eyes
when you're awaken by a brand new day.
We will eventually burn out-
but worry not because when the time comes
we can change together.

I hear myself think, but I can't ever hear myself talk. I mean I do but it's not in a voice I recognize anymore and I think I'm inbetween finding myself and losing myself. I'm not really sure which way I will go, maybe a little bit of both because that would the road less traveled right? So wouldn't that make all the difference? See I have an inference that if I try hard enough to control these things in which I don't think I can, I someday will and whether it be true or not it's hope that keeps me going. I am alive and it's weird to say because so sooo many times I wished I were dead. On every star in that **** sky I wished I had never been alive, but now it's so different. I wish on the stars to keep living and I wish for adventures and culture and **** maybe one day even children- maybe thats too far... and maybe the road I have paved for myself is mediocre because I have never done it before, but ******* I tried my best. These fists will no longer drag me down and this mind will no longer hold me back. I am not chained to anything anymore except some words on a page and in thirty minutes it will be tomorrow and I will see a new day again, one I had wished so long ago wouldn't come. But tomorrow, I will see the sun and the clouds and feel the grass on my feet and I will remember that even your self esteem can blow off some steam and your worries are just water weight you need to get ****** and **** out before you let them weigh you down. Stick around kid, it's worth it.

I have spent the days
memorizing the shape of your lips
and the way your voice
seems to whisper my name
in the most comforting tone
I have ever let my ears hear.
I try to shut out most things
like the way even after
half a year, six months
you still give me the butterflies
that corrupted my stomach
on that very first day.
I have kissed some lips
but none of them make a difference.
The only thing that’s ever
on my mind is you..
I have seen a thousand faces
and heard a million melodies
but none of them sing
like my heartbeat does
in your presence.
So I apologize if every instance
makes me worried that
you will no longer
be the chest to where I lay my head.
I apologize that you’re the only one
I wish to share my bed.
Please believe that I have walked
a thousand seas and waded
more than a million miles
only to find what I’d always been
looking for and that’s you.
My eyes opened to a world
never known.
You showed me a place called home.

This cold makes my nose bleed,
turns my toes white and my fingers blue.

I'm having trouble coping again.
These times they take a toll on my insides.

This fear of everything is isolating me.
I have come to terms with inconsistency.
My limbs feel as if they are backwards
and I can't seem to stand up straight.

Everything I have come to know is different.
I haven't changed much, but I didn't stay the same.

Clinging to an absence because a presence will show it's face
and I'll be hanging by a thread again.

Talk me out of this isolation and seclusion.
Avoidance is the best tactic I know
so watch as I run away from it all.

But I'm still stuck inside this lingering chill
and wrapped up in this winter feeling.
Everything around me is frozen solid
and so I sit, lacking stability.
​
Nothing falls short but me and my expectations.
Since when is life so ******* daunting?

I am haunted by a faceless man
and he lingers in this winter air.
Oh what a shame to become this thing.

Oh what a ******* shame to become something
and be afraid of it all.

I am falling in love with isolation and lonely
it has been the only calm I have ever known.

Dissociation climbs it's way into my limbs
and I am a puppeteer at best.
My subconscious is pulling the strings
and I am inside a body I no longer recognize.

I try to remind myself of me.
But all I remember is a sad shell of a person,
a shadow just trailing behind.

I am wasting away inside of my own mind again.
I'm hanging from these frozen limbs,

my head's on backwards now too
and this past is all I see-
I can't seem to walk any other direction.
Frozen until I have seen it all.

Stuck inside an endless loop of
untying knots in my memory,
still trying to tie up every loose end.

until we meet again
the innocence I once had.

The darkness engulfs me and the pain ensues. I have felt the malevolence of larger hands wrapped around my throat. I have felt the arch of your back on top of me turn into something that reminds me of a cataclysmic time. My eyes go dark and nothing seems familiar anymore. The incessant reminder of what was is something I can't run away from. The depths of my mind go farther and more undiscovered than that of the ocean floor. But the waves keeps crashing and pulling me, turning me into a tsunami of these dark uncharted memories. The only thing that holds me back is the memory of being held down and stripped of any control I had over my life. I cannot help these hands I hold remind me of stone sometimes, I can no longer hide these broken parts of myself. Naivety was my biggest downfall at a young age and I couldn't stop the fact that something so sacred was ripped from my fingertips and thrown to the floor as I watched in despair, thinking this is how it was supposed to be. Now the fog has lifted from my mind and these eyes can see clearly once again. Some time after, I realized I would never trust another man. Not when that innocence I had left was turned into these nights I spend crying on the bathroom floor clenching a bottle of Vicodin ready to lift each and every pill to my lips... it will no longer control me like this. These hands will no longer feel the stings of deceit.  This broken heart is being rebuilt, one fragile piece at a time. My sexuality is not to be toyed with and although that part of myself was stolen from me I am trying my best to get it back again. These hands are still grasping the idea of sanity , frail and bruised as they may be, I'm still holding out for something.

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.

Just when I think you don't know me at all and that everything I've come to know and love is falling out from under me, you remind me that you've always known me. You've always known the part that tries to push you away because I get scared but you don't let that happen. You know I'm irrational and inane but that's why you love me. Everyday with you I am reminded to be a better person, for myself and those around me. I lived a life with my head in the clouds thinking no one wanted me, but you came along and showed me what the grass felt like between my toes and showed me the ground felt a lot more like home. Sometimes I try to rationalize love, to over-analyze it and dissect it, until I know exactly what I'm dealing with. But you remind me to feel with all I have and not to worry about the weight on my shoulders because we carry it together. Things are hard for me to cope with sometimes and these days feel so bleak and colorless, but you're always right there next me convincing me not to be afraid of the dark, to just wait for the sun to rise again.

i miss the way you would dance off beat and the feeling of your arms wrapped around my body.

I can't seem to turn it all off and I guess I don't want to.

You were the only person who ever made me feel something real.

but my trauma became too much and I ****** everything up.

Since when do I rhyme in my poetry? I guess it's bc that reminds me of you too.

this is ****, similar to the way I treated you.

I haven't been the same since you left.

I don't think I ever will be again.

but I was right about one thing, you'd be happier without me.

I tell myself to rebuild these broken wings I find myself soaring upon, but I realize the necessary tools are missing. I try to get a handle on my current situation but I realize there's no handle on my bedroom door anymore and I am trapped again. I have made a mess of the remains out of broken dry wall and picture frames.  I rebuild, rebuild, rebuild but it's never like it was before. The paint is two-toned and some things can't be covered with a painting of your face next to mine. Some things can't even be patched up. Such as the way your eyes seem to guide me into a world that seems too daunting to stay inside. I let the breeze carry me away and hope the broken wings can still soar despite the damage that has been done. I have made a bed out of all my regrets and have no issues laying in it anymore and nowadays I tend to sleep better than I live. I have seen the misery in your eyes when the thought of me waking up without you on my mind crossed yours, and I've never felt so low. Plausibility isn't always the best reality and I know with you we have our differences, but that doesn't make a difference to me. Maybe the days I deem dull are just a distant memory and every time I wake up without you is a day I want to get through just to see you. Sappiness is not in my agenda, but intentions lead to attention on some occasions and I would like to spend every occasion with you.. Loving you has been the best thing I have ever done for myself. The first decision I made without anyone but myself in mind was when I said you could call me yours. Please believe me when I say, I will always be yours even if the day comes that we expire, I will age like fine wine, with you always still on my mind.

I will breathe you in. Inhale. Hold. Exhale. Repeat. Consistency is never my strong point but the only thing I tend to keep doing no matter what is breathing and blinking. My lungs have collapsed from the pressure of drowning too far into the deep end. My ears have popped and I feel that urge to breath again, but can’t quite get back up to the surface fast enough. I can feel myself giving up just as the break that surface and gasp for that breath of fresh air I have waited so long for, and that’s what loving you feels like. Relief. I have spent my days stuck in the dark because I couldn’t find my way around these walls I have built for myself. I wasn’t responsible enough to remember, I needed light. That’s when you broke down the walls I was confined in with your sledge hammer heart and built me the moon with only your bare hands. You told me you loved me fast and nervously and I knew then you were my lighthouse, my nightlight, and my bedside lamp. Always there for when I needed light. You’re my breath of fresh air on a humid day and you make me feel like walking into a refreshing air conditioned house on the hottest day of summer. My cup of hot chocolate after an all day battle with snow ball fights and sled rides. I’ll never need the drugs most people abuse because you are my high.

I try to be the person I’ve wanted myself to be all along. And I try to make you listen to these words I speak and hope you understand. But some things just don’t happen the way we want them to. And the days we want to sit out and watch the stars, the sky is blank and so are our minds. So I cherish the days my mind is filled with regret, and memories, mostly of the days I wish to wash away with those regrets. I will take each galaxy and paint them across my emotions just to show you what I feel is more than just an expression. I feel so low when the days are the same and even when the sun is out I remember when it rains and I’m not sure that will ever change. These moments of euphoria weigh out the moments of extreme distress when clutching a bottle to my chest seems to be my only savior, I savor those moments of mania because they make for a **** good story to tell. My days are numbered and so are yours. Whatever comes will make me or break me in ways that will alter me. Maybe the love for myself won’t be enough, but I’m willing to figure it out. I’ve spent years hating who I am and that’s the most exhausting thing I’ve done to myself. I woke up.

I can't decide anymore whether I ******* hate you, or if I love you. This internal battle is not one I'm good with because I'm still not sure what love even feels like anymore. Each day you treat me differently, so I'm stuck here on the edge, waiting for the clock to strike me dead. I have no remorse anymore. I will do as I wish because I'm so tired of being cautious of each and every little step I take just to ensure your stability. I am difficult. I like cheesy movies, sappy sitcoms and writing poetry- all of which you one day love about me and the next, you're making me wish all my interests were the same as yours so maybe you would actually be interested in the things I say. You don't hear me sometimes, or maybe you just don't listen. I'm getting to the point where my own voice is being drown out by yours because it's all I ever hear anymore. I can't see the good that's in front of me because I keep looking back at what we were. My eyes are blinded by the tears that fall, they taste like the regret of all the things I've never said.

I count down the days until the things that get under my skin decay me and I am left with nothing more than a stardust heart. These days blend together like water color courage and turn into something like acrylic coated love but I can't seem to make my soul worth selling. It never occurred to me this currency is something I have to base my being around but it is the sun and I am merely just the earth. Learning how to live, one rotation at a time. I will never stop spinning, and nor will my head because even when your heart stands still, it actually doesn't. The earth continues to orbit and the stars continue to shine night after night after night and so do you. We are the galaxy and the planets, all in the same hands that feed the mouths that are eager to learn and soak up knowledge. I have learned that nothing comes quickly or on time, nothing is ever planned. Everything is obsolete and ever so inept to stay consistent. So let these winds change, and the sky turn to gray. Let the sun take a break from chasing the pale on your skin and open those wide eyes and believe that not everything is worth knowing. You have to understand that you can't understand it all. Some things aren't meant to be seen, some words aren't meant to be spoken. So hear what you will and see what you want, because none of it makes a difference in the end. We all are subject to change.

I dyed my hair today and couldn't stop thinking of all the people I would disappoint, but I dyed it anyway. I woke up today and thought about all the people I would disappoint, but I continued my day. See this life is filled with those who wish to keep you just as you are. But you, you are every-changing, obsolete and beautiful anyway. I try to tell myself I don't care about the people I upset by making the decisions that make me happy, but it doesn't hurt any less. I have become a gray, middle-area of who people want me to be. I have grown so accustom to others customs that I'm not sure where I belong anymore. No one seems to be around anymore and I have dug my own grave. Somehow this feels lonely again, the same loneliness I have tried to run away from. And just when I turn around to look, thinking I lost it, there it is as I turn back around standing in front of me, awaiting my next move. I may never rid of lonely. I may never be myself again.

comprehension isn't in your bloodstream you are too busy apprehending these repressive tendencies. Everything is messy lately, and I can't seem to see things clearly. This can't make sense to anyone but me- and it never will. Memories are isolated events. My trauma is a movie only I have seen but everyone tries to write the review of. I'm tired of this being a competition. Like whoever has the most ****** up life wins in this potato sack race to the finish line- I'm far from fine I'm two steps back and trailing even farther behind. Everyone seemed to have had some kind of advantages, these genetics were defective for me, my motor skills and processing delayed and defective see I can seem speak on these things too clearly. Mumbling at the mouth of memory and retention, I'm trying to articulate what's piled on top of my heavy heart and this chest full of weight and ***** slate and angst. I'm having trouble marking the place on his face. I'm having trouble marking the place where I laid, where he laid, where I can find peace. I'm having trouble not having trouble. I'm alone in my struggle too. No one knows you better than you, but no one knows me like I know me and it seems this is factually accurate from an everyone standpoint. Am I okay anymore? Or is this void the only voice I will hear when I am being called back to sleep. Where will these secrets always be kept? Inside of the locks behind my retinas, who the **** forgot the combination to the safe. That would be me.

As I lay motionless, watching you watch the tv screen, I remember how much you mean to me. I remember how much I hate rhyme schemes and when you don't pay much attention to me. How I love your smile and the way you get so passionate about the simplest things. I enjoy that part of you. You don't feel like you owe me something. You make me laugh because you like my smile and not because you feel like you have to. I have seen the glimmer in your eyes when you look into mine and I am reminded that those are the moments I live for. I've never written in my life as much as I have while being with you. I think that means you bring about my passionate side about the simple things. I'm scared of the dark without you in it. You make me feel safe and I don't know what I would ever do if I lost that part of you. I don't know what I would do if I lost you. Someone could come along and show you parts of yourself you've never seen, like you did for me.. You can fall head over heels in love way more than once, but I hope the one time with me is all you'll ever need. But if one day, I no longer make you happy, I will do my best to adjust to a life without you.. But I hope, oh god I really hope I never have to.

It's like I'm in a constant game of hide and seek-
some days whenever I'm not looking
I end up losing myself
and can't seem to find where I hid-
I've always been really good at hiding.
Some days I'll be able to find myself
in the dark corners or under bedsheets
from when I was a child.
Other days no matter how much I try
and work towards finding who I was
or where I've been
or how the **** I got this way
I'm clueless.
Lost myself again
and not sure where to find me.
I sent out a search party for my happiness
but it's really ******* good at this game
I sometimes wish it wasn't.
You would think I would get tired of hiding
but it seems I like a challenge
and this hiding from myself thing
has been something i've done all along
a trade I seemed to master at a young age
and it only gets better with time.
I found you one day-
and you took my hand and helped try to find me
on the days I missed myself and needed it back.
You always knew just where to look
you always somehow found
what I would spend most of my days in search of
and now it is your turn to hide.
I can't find the same person who helped
find me
you've gone missing.
You must've been practicing for a while
because it seems like I really can't find you anywhere
not even in the same places I once did.
You've become an expert at hiding away parts of yourself-
This game is one I don't want to play
I'm done looking for you in the same places
that I lost myself.
I just want to find me without your help-
and I want you to be able to do the same.
I don't know where you are anymore.
Maybe I'm the one who's been hiding all along.

I am broken, again and again and again I try to put myself back together but these thoughts, and these uncontrollable emotions will not let me. I have been bent by instances from before. These hands will not let go even when I try to pry them off of what's been holding me back. Ridicule is what I am used to and in some sense it is comforting. But the incessant lack of decency that surrounds me makes everything seem so bleak. I am tired of being sorry for these things I feel and I'm exhausted trying to hide my pain for you.. Bottling up these things that hold me down is harder than I had ever imagined and I wish I could erase the pain  I feel for you but that can't happen. I cannot just wish away these things I wish to wash away, if only it was that easy. I am broken and your contribution isn't much but it somehow makes a difference. I need to find myself again and I need to get away before the elephant in the room tramples over everything I've worked so ******* hard for. I have no words anymore.

i'm not afraid of heartbreak anymore-
if I do wind up having every inch
of my sanity taken and my heart shattered
I wouldn't blink.
Although my body would tremble
under the crippling weight
from the pressure of your absence
I would pick up my pen
and the blood pumping through my veins
would spill out before me onto a blank page
finally filled with everything I've never said to you.

You can break my heart and I won't blink.
I will harness that pain in my heart
and turn it into something beautiful and painful.
I will cry into a page left weathered with my emotions
but I will pick myself back up and realize that this is art.
You have always been my muse..
and it would be a pleasure
to have my heart broken by you.
To me, you've always been beautiful
even when you weren't on paper.

The small of my back aches for acknowledgement
but you're too busy analyzing your mistakes.
My finger lays on the buttons I like to push
and they only push you further away from me-
but I can't stop feeling like it's on purpose.
These hands are made of copper and when mixed with fire
they burn bright, emitting hypnotizing colors-
blue, for the way I feel when I'm with you now.
green, with the greed I feel for not wanting to be alone
orange, for the jealousy of you no longer wanting me
red, for the thoughts of you no longer in my life..
They all interchange and take turns but somehow
this color chart of my emotions is on a spin cycle
and these sheets I have been wrapped up in
got mixed together with another load
and came out damaged and no longer like they were.
So I'm coming clean-
because my heart hurts, and I feel like I'm no longer yours
the distance between us when we speak
says more to me than poetry ever did.
So now all I see is red-

You took your words and with them you stitched together my lips and reminded me why my voice is so crippling. You made me realize that nothing I say to you will ever triumph over the negative things I do. The hands that reach over to hold me at night are the same ones that you used to speak the truth I think I've always known. Brutal, were your words and they shook me from the inside. You never look at what we are, you only look at what has been before. The deceit and treachery you've been apart of has now been taken out on me. I shouldn't have to pay for others mistakes. I start to wonder if the reason for your harsh judgment is because you hate yourself more than you think you do. But I hate myself too and all I want is to love everyone I see equally, so what does that mean for you? The person I knew has now become a mere shadow in the faded distance and I can't put into words anymore how yours remind me why I'm starting to speak less. The sad fact is I've never cared for someone so much and I've never had someone I care so much about make me feel the way I do about myself. The moment you came into my life I felt beautiful and soon that beauty slowly faded. I started to wonder why I was wilting and dying slowly and then I realized there's no sun where I am and the source of nutrients are scarce. The energy I have left has been used to keep me alive and I can't be your burden anymore. These words are my sarcophagus and I hope you enjoy the funeral because this eulogy had ended.

I feel so utterly replaceable.
I feel like feeling anything at all is dangerous.
Times before I used to just bottle it up
pretending I was happy, nothing else.
Biting my tongue became routine
and anger was the only emotion I possessed
on days that weren't so happy.

And I say **** that,
because I'm tired of hiding behind a smile
faking that everything is okay
when clearly I know that it's not.

I will not walk on glass
to keep you safe.
I will not pick the shards from my feet
just so you can sit back and apologize
for being the weight that I carry.
You can give me whatever treatment you wish,
but do not expect me to put up with it.

I wrote you poems and prose,
and it seems as if my words are not enough.
I worry and it seems to be too much.

So I'm sorry if the effort I make
to not be the person I was
is way too much for you to handle.
But the things I do
and the words I write
are mostly for you.

But don't ever think
I will change who I am for your benefit.
Never will I go back to biting my tongue
punching walls and pent up aggressions.
You told me not to worry,
so that's exactly what I'll do.

The space between your fingers
will soon feel the wind.
The space next to you in bed
will soon feel the cold.

Hanging on empty words
and feeling the wrath
of someone else's mistake
is something i've dealt
with for far too long.
Love me with all you have,
or don't ******* love me at all.

I try too hard for you
and I guess you feel the same.
I can't read your mind.
I'm tired of being the one you blame.

All i've ever wanted is to help you,
to be the one to paint a smile across you face.
But you send me away with the wind,
and hope I never come back again.

I've come to realize that everything I write is somehow about you and you are the inspiration behind all the madness and whenever something goes wrong I want to run, full force, into your presence only for you to say some **** to me that makes me laugh and makes me forget why the **** I ever had a reason to be sad. Maybe I will start believing in myself when I stop ******* things up. This mind has held onto the idea of you for quite some time and I can't seem to shake the feeling everything is already how it is supposed to be because losing you would be the second worst thing I've ever done, the first being hurting you. I am the global warming of many people's lives,  I burn down the necessities and I freeze, I make the breeze turn to ice and turn these winds into a windchill and my heart is cold again. My heart will always be unsure of who to trust and lust and love because I'm still trying to decide whether or not I believe in any of it, at all. I keep trying to tell myself I am okay, but then nights alone remind me that I cannot be who I am with anyone, because who I am is destructive. My aura alone could cause a hole in the entire ozone layer, then we would all be ******. I don't know what to think when every bone in my body wants me to think of you. The idea of you wrapped in someone else's embrace with a smile on your face gives me an inane sense of comfort. Because I am destruction, and I burn everything I touch.

You've over-stepped your boundaries for far too long, so I took sides. I drew the line you crossed and you just blew it instead. I gave you a dose of your own medicine and you starting enjoying the high. I began to wonder when exactly it was you lost yourself, so deep inside someone else. Tears became sobs and anger became overwhelming and you still stayed for a reason I'm not sure of. Wondering where we went wrong became my downfall and I wasn't sure what to believe anymore. You take the words from your throat and paint them over sinister skylines and I'm not sure you even know the meaning of a lie. Every truth had become unfamiliar and every bond became broken. I tried to get you back to the person I knew, but somewhere along the lines you became hollowed out by your vices and got lost in what you thought were escapes. Now I worry for your safety and mourn for the person you once were because that's not who you are anymore. I'm exhausted trying to decide if the words slipping from your lips are credible or if you'll be indebted for the rest of your life. Strength in my bones I have attempted to carry the weight on your shoulder and made them all into mine, but the load got too heavy and you were left with nothing, watching as I struggled to save you. I haven't got a clue left on what to do. But I will mourn for you.

what do you write
when you have no idea
what exactly it is you feel
but anxiety and nerves
and inadequacy.

My life has been spent
wondering if the way
I feel is actually okay
or if i'm just entirely delusional.

All I ever need is some effort
and affirmation
but it seems that
it must be too hard for people
so as I sit alone
no one to confide in
I wonder why I'm always
second best to those I put first.

Sorry for sounding redundant
but it seems everything I write
somehow sounds exactly the same.
So maybe, for the sake
of deja vu
I should just quite this too.

Not many things make me happy anymore
not even the curve of your lips
when you smile
because what good is all of that
if you don't even plan time
for me in your busy schedule.

I am a victim of my own self pity
and I have felt sorry for myself all my life.
But I'm sorry, I don't know how to change me.
I wish I could.
Goodnight.

You were the first boy to buy me flowers and they weren't roses like all the other girls get. They were the colorful, cheaper ones and I liked that. That was the first time I realized that you knew me, a little better than I knew myself. I was terrified of you. Not in the way that I thought you would bring me harm but in the way that I knew you would make me happy and I didn't think that's what I deserved. I made you sad because I knew I couldn't ever be happy, but then you found love so I guess it's okay. I'm still trying to decide if I am finally happy because I'm not sure exactly what it feels like. I cry a lot, I guess I always have except when the alcohol masked the pain. But I didn't want to go down that road and now every time that sip hits my intestines I get sick. I guess it's for the best, isn't it? We were always meant to be friends, because it's simple. And this love in my life now never is. Maybe I was meant to be who I am now, in order to grow from who I was because I've never really liked myself. I'm not sure that part of me will ever go away. I guess being a friend is the only thing I don't **** at these days. I hope that part of me will always stay.

fear lurks in the back of my mind
even the smallest chance of
anything making me scared means
running would be the only plausible option.

have you ever wondered
at all about the way your mind works
steady on the brink of insanity.

nothing comes close to
opening up yourself to someone only
to be disregarded and told
honey
its all in your head but you, you were
never one to give me
grief over things I could not control.

only you can make me feel this safe
no one else ever has

yes there are days when I will try to run
only to hear the sound of my feet hit the ground
until then, you're my only safe and sound.