"it is better to have loved
and lost" as they would like to say
but no wise words can stop the ache
this aggravating pain.

to not have loved would be to not have known
what could be taken away.
not to long for his movement, his touch
the smile that spreads across his face.

"it is better to have loved and lost"
but i have lost everything.
except his picture in my mind
that visits in my dreams.

big blue eyes of innocence

naïve in her five years of existence

calls out for daddy, for daddy to come

around 9 o'clock at night.

he enters the room, unsurprised,

this has become ritual.

check the closet, under the bed

for the creatures of the night.

kiss her head and tuck her in

then turn off the lights.

how beautiful this scenery was,

the innocence of it all.

a father's assurance was enough

to comfort her troubled mind.

the pure and unfailing trust

that everything will be alright.

but as the years passed

her faith began to weaken.

taking off the rosy shades

blindsided by reality.

through the pain and sorrow

she came to learn

the monsters do not live

underneath the beds

but in herself.

and with each saw of the blade

daddy's little girl fought those monsters.

big blue eyes of innocence

naïve in her five years of existence

calls out for daddy, for daddy to come

around 9 o'clock at night.

he enters the room, unsurprised,

this has become ritual.

check the closet, under the bed

for the creatures of the night.

kiss her head and tuck her in

then turn off the lights.

how beautiful this scenery was,

the innocence of it all.

a father's assurance was enough

to comfort her troubled mind.

the pure and unfailing trust

that everything will be alright.

but as the years passed

her faith began to weaken.

taking off the rosy shades

blindsided by reality.

through the pain and sorrow

she came to learn

the monsters do not live

underneath the beds

but in herself.

and with each saw of the blade

daddy's little girl fought those monsters.

To hear your two syllables
Fall off the lips of the person
Beside me.
To brace myself
And not to wince
Of the name from which I’m hiding.
I buried the thought
Of you away
In the corners of my mind
As the sound of your voice
Begins to fade
In the collection of time.
And with that name
She gave you life
Brought you from the grave.
I once again must find a way
To bury your thought
Back where it should have stayed.

to the solemn decision
to carve the blade across
the soft white of my skin
for the final time.

i have waited so long
to drift away from this
world. polluted by monsters
and drowned in disappointment.

i can't forgive.
i won't forget.

i can't forgive.
i won't forget.

i can't forgive.
i won't forget.

i must confess something that neither my parents nor my psychiatrist knows. one of the most important moments of my life that i have been too afraid to even speak aloud about. the darkest yet most positive instance, the turning point on my road to self ruin.
i was fed up with life, but that was nothing new. i had given up on people long ago, decided to go detached from anything and everything because losing them was inevitable. and overwhelmingly painful.
i swallowed a total of eighteen pills. there was no trigger to this suicide attempt, i was just following through on a decision i had made long ago. at first i was upset because it wasn't working. i was still conscious.  i was still alive.
then they hit like a ton of bricks. waves shook my body so hard that i collapsed onto my bedroom floor. the weight of the pills was pulling my body to the ground. anchored down, unable to even lift a finger. the world was spinning and pulsing, my body covered in a cold sweat.
it was the most beautiful moment of my life. why?

because for once in my life, i was scared of death. for once in my life, i wanted to hold onto my life. in those numbing hours, i could feel my life slipping out of my fingertips and i wanted so desperately to hold on. i couldn't even call out for help.

that was the moment i decided that i wanted to live.

i find it kind of humorous how i'm so broken, so messed up inside that everyone has given up on me.
they told me they would be by my side all through recovery. almost a year has passed and they're just now realizing my illness cannot be veiled by medication. that my demise was a part of my life. i still wake up screaming, running away from monsters just to wake up and face them in the daylight.

i'd rather be alone than to forgive people. or at least apologize. they hurt me and it's my fault for letting them get so close. i am a mistake. paralyzed by the inability to socialize, to love, to be happy. i just can't do this.

no one else is around because i pushed them away. so i deserve this.

I have lost everything that matters.

but i'll be ****** if i'm some supporting character in someone else's story.

i'm washed up
overrated
hateful and mean.
i'm in love with
my own misery
that i would ever be
with anyone else.

sorry to let you down.

depression is a sickness
an inability to pull myself
up from the pit of darkness
that clings to my skin.
it's not that i choose to be
this way, but it simply
is not possible. at first
i think it's because he's not
here and that i'm lonely.
but i've always been this
way, even when he was
around. i've always been
filled with hate, anger, pain.

This is my final goodbye to you. And I'm so sorry. I know I said that you would always have me. I know I promised that I would be waiting right here for you to come back to me. But outside, as the seasons passes countlessly, the air chilled me to the bone and the wind howled into my ears, shaking and beating my body into havoc. I'm not retreating; I'm moving forward.
Maybe I waited so long because I'm used to the abuse. It's all I have ever loved. And up till now, I believed it was all I deserved. I grew up never knowing love and so I ended up searching for it in all the wrong places. I'm afraid you're another misguided destination. But I don't really mean that. I guess. We were somewhat good for each other. If we hadn't met, neither of us would be in existence today. I still remember how you convinced me there is a reason to live on my 17th birthday. I was the one, despite your anger and will, that saved you from the damage you inflicted on yourself.
It's rather upsetting how clearly I can remember all of the good memories. How you were so truly in love with me before you even knew it. You treated me like the most beautiful and fascinating girl and for once in my life, I believed it. I really believed it. I miss it all. The nights that we stayed up, endlessly asking each other questions because we wanted to know every little detail. At 4 a.m. you apologized for keeping me up on a school night and I told you that I would much rather talk to you than sleep. And by your reaction, I knew you were not used to that and so tried from there on to make you feel as special as you truly are. Our first date, exploring downtown, you never let go of my hand. I had boyfriends before but...they never held my hand in public. And I thought that was the loveliest thing. And when you kissed me for the first time, or rather every time, every atom of my body electrified. The early mornings, under covers, you touched my skin so gently....But ever before we knew each other, when we just gazed at each other across campfires and crowded rooms, I knew I wasn't through with you. However, I'm afraid that time has arrived. I knew this time would eventually come, but nothing could have prepared me.
The happy moments may exist in distant memories, but this overwhelming pain, hatred, sadness, and desperation is constant proof of the reckless and apathetic wreckage you have inflicted. How you chose every single thing over me. Over us. Our relationship was such a joke. You will never love anything more than those **** chemicals in that ******* needle. I could never be close to you because that blonde *** covered ***** was between us from the start. And in the end, you acted as if this relationship was too much effort for you.
When you said goodbye, I knew it wasn't for the last time. We always find our way back to each other. But I have to close the door. I can't allow you to enter  my life again. Although I love you to the ends of the earth, I have to start loving myself. No matter how difficult that may be. I'm sorry.

*Te amo, mi novio.

I wish I knew why he left. What his reasons were.
Why he changed his mind.

For all these years, I have turned it over in my
head--all the possibilities--yet none of them make
any sense.

And then I think, perhaps it was because he never
loved me. But that makes the lease sense of all.*

-Lang Leav

i dreamt of you last night

there we stood, at the campground
separated by the delicate ties
woven together in the intricate web
that brought us together in the first place.
we had to act as strangers even though
i know more about you than your
best friend,who stood three feet away.
couldn't meet my eyes to risk familiarity.

even my dreams know
we can't be together.

the pain persists as i still miss the days spent in your bed.

i don't know what to do with myself.

the pain persists as i still miss the days spent in your bed.

i don't know what to do with myself.

he pulled me close for a dance
air crisp in the November night
our bodies flow in one motion
skin lit by the moonlight

his lips tasted of peppermint
subtly drenched in wine
he held me tight and whispered
light that he'll forever be mine

but as the months piled on
our bodies began to part
our ties stretched far
forever the tug at my heart

i'm afraid your hands disappeared
along with the rest of you
my feet begin to stumble, unknown
different dance to the same tune.

"You should just **** yourself," he scoffed. His words slicing open the scars.

I couldn't help but laugh. "I'm working on it."

i've seen things that haunt me with every turn i take. i just can't shake their ghosts that howl and crawl their way back into my soul, darkness settling deep in my stomach like a lead weight. and there's nothing i can do. no matter how many pills i swallow, alcohol in my system, or chemicals in my lungs; there's no running away from them. there's nothing i can do.
and i realize my existence is a joke. i know i've hurt so many people. i know i'm a mess and it would just be easier if i pulled the trigger. because i can't love. i can't feel. i can't move on. i'm stuck and i need help.
but i realize, i'm here because i'm a fighter and i don't accept defeat.

She lends her pen,
to thoughts of him,
that flow from it,
in her solitary.

For she is his poet,
And he is her poetry.*

-Lang Leav

to hear my name fall from your lips
in the old familiar tone
to have you pull me in
and not walk away.

back to the days that i so miss
when you called me your own
to the times where i wake
to your face the next day.

i like to play with fire
but that of a different kind
the one that engulf bridges
to light the nighttime sky.

"to love is a dare
when hope and despair,
are gates upon it hinges."*

-Lang Leav

18* years
6,570 days
157,680 hours
9,460,800 minutes
567,648,000 seconds

is my life.

18 years I have lived,
brought up by a family
where emotions and love
was viewed as sin.
18 years I have begged
for fatherly affection
and for a mother's patience.
18 years I have lived in shadow
of the first child. of the one
that could do none but all wrong.

my life was not like most.
always pressured to be perfect
but that's been heard before.
but to stand there beside my father
already an insecure 15 year old
and have him bash my accomplishments
in front of my face. talking down
to me. to do more.
you can always do better.

7 years
you get the point
i have not known happiness.
i have lived with this heavy
presence all around me.
he became his own person.
Depression hung around my neck
like an anchor, constantly pulling
me to the ground and each time
i think this would be the final
time. the time that i could not
get up. wrapping around my
chest, squeezing the life
out of me. the breath.

4 years
i hated myself so much
overwhelmed by hate
worry and sadness
that i would go into my
room, take out my pocket knife
and carve away the pain.
let the blood flow.
scars up and down my
wrists and legs.
i would cry out in pain.
they knew.
they all knew what i was doing.
they were in the next room in fact.
but in my house, if you didn't
acknowledge a problem, it
didn't exist.
but my sickness did exist.
and i was left alone with it
for it to destroy me.
and so it did.

2 years
ago, i met this boy
who seemed quite nice at first
he was my first real boyfriend
and i trusted him.
but he had a monster behind that mask
that appeared every time i
would want to see my friends
or even spoke back to him.
he hit me. simple as that.
he hit me and choked me
and knocked me down to the ground
he told me i should **** myself
and i told him i already considered it.
i told myself that he was just playful
to stop being such a ***** about it.
i was afraid to leave him because
no one else would love me.
i would look in the mirror,
bruises around my neck
and his entire handprint
around my arm. i lied to my
mom when she asked, and she
believed me to avoid conflict.
it wasn't until in september
that we got into an argument in
the school's parking lot. it
was around 4 o'clock, we stayed
for film club so the lot was vacant.
he was angry, more so than usual.
he grabbed my arms and shook me violently.
slapped my face and threw me to the concrete
and left me there.
he drove off while i was unable to move
blinded by the pain in my head
from bashing it on the pavement
and crying out for anybody.
it seemed like forever until
my friends came out from the building
and found me.

1 year
i attempted suicide. (let's forget this make believe meter) i can't specify why i wanted to die because it was everything. ever since i can remember, i've been hoping for death to come. for it to be accidental because i didn't have the ***** to **** myself off. and it didn't happen as some great event, as some dramatic turning point. it was a realization of complete unhappiness with my life. of a definite desire for death. that i had nobody. i never knew love. never had affection. that being alive was just painful. and so, by my old means, i took the razor blade from under *the collected works of edgar allan poe and i sat on the floor. without a second thought, i jabbed it into my wrist, pulling the blade up. it wasn't long until my entire hand was coated by a crimson glove. my entire body throbbed, rocking me softly to sleep.apparently my parents found me in time. lucky me.

9 months
i have lived a somewhat different life. i decided not to rely on the love of others, but for me to love myself. and believe me, i'm still working on it. my wounds have turned to scars. nasty, ugly ones. but i'm in love with them. despite the antidepressants and the counseling, i still have bad days. i still miss the relief of cutting. i miss it more than anything. but those days no longer consume me.

you call me a mistake? i might be, but not in relation to you. others may read this, but it's you in which this matters. you wasted those days because you refused to act. i will take responsibility when needed, but this wasn't on me.

**you couldn't have possibly loved me, because you never knew me.

stood before me, paralyzed by the uncomfortable strangeness of our newfound situation. three feet, give or take. probably give. but he was worlds away. for the first time, i had no idea what i was dealing with. could not read his thoughts or sync actions like we used to, dancing to jazz music in anthony's kitchen. but precisely a year has passed and i'm afraid we were out of practice.
small talk caught in our throats, wincing from the bitter taste. this wasn't right. i was drawn yet expelled at the same time from him. i wanted to draw him near like i used to. i wanted to run away, afraid of all the pain he continues to inflict on me.
"i should probably get to bed..." he said. i tried not to look disappointed. it had been a vast 20 minutes with him and he's already tired.
i stood there, shifting weight uncomfortably. unsure of what to do. he reached towards the door, and i was ready for my exit. but he continues his reach towards the light switch. wordlessly, he extended his hand and there i touched his skin for the first time in months.
in the dark he led me to the bedroom. once again i stood there, i did not know what to do. we were just friends after all. he made that very clear through the text messages back in september. but he turned me towards him and there he was, the boy i knew. the boy i loved. my constant thought. my reason for staying. my person.

it was me, peering through the shattered mirror, leaking fresh crimson flowing down in steady stream.
it was my lap in which he laid, the glazed blues gazing lifelessly into mine. touched his dark brown hair, now long enough to slightly curl at the ends. soft as usual, rich in depth.
it was in my hands that held the means, the balance to the situation. my revenge. and so i claimed it. over and over, sinking it into his chest to truly find out if he ever had a heart for i could never tell. over and over as the blood hallowed his body like a **** god. over and over, wanting to hear the screams, the sound of agony that i have only internally known. but there was nothing.he gave nothing.
and so i laid with his lifeless body, but he was dead long ago.

you said you loved me
though i knew the words were not true
but i held on and followed along
always chasing after you.

touch his lips
flesh underneath my fingertips.
diving into blue waters
lit by stars that guide the way.

kiss and touch flow together
with the hours spent in bed
and the days scarred forever in my mind.

i'm so sick.
tainted by this disease
that has crawled its way
through my chest
and now defines me.

it's all i am.
all i do.
it's my thoughts, my words
my touch.

i need help
and i cried out
but they paid no mind to me.
they watched me drown
and pulled me down
farther into depth.

i have come to late realization that i am selfish. that i, myself, am the very epitome of what i despise. but that is probably the root of all of this self-hatred. this consuming self loathing that i have allowed to define myself. and that i love all of this hostility. that i thrive off of it. that i am, in fact, a terrible person. i submerge myself in these fiery waters because that's all i have known. i am so in love with my hate, my sadness, and pain. i am infatuated with my own misery because that's what makes me different. i'm self destructive because simply i'm bored. drugs, *****, *** all because i was uncomfortable with the dull lead feeling settling in my body.

i saw i caught your eye
skin like a pearl in the pale moonlight
even though our timing wasn't right
i could tell you were mine.

we ran in circles over again
trying to fight time that was never our friend
as you, fingertips from my hand
don't call it quits, babe, this can't be the end.

but as the days passed on
i could tell that something was wrong
you didn't look at me the way you used to.
you changed the song
and now it's been so long
since the last time i've seen you.

please don't walk away
i asked you to stay
just this once.
i won't be okay
going through the day
with you gone.

brushed your shoulder as i walked by
like your heart, the touch was ice
this is something i can't make right
because you're not mine.

i want to kiss your lips again
mouth to mouth and skin to skin
your white shirt wearing thin
forget the rules and give into the sin.

million tiny ants
crawling up and down my spine
hummingbird in chest

cold sweat is beading
on my burning body red
eyes dry from crying so

im not going to ******* sleep tonight

crimson coated finger tips. prints seared onto sticky handle of the means to an end. no salty tears can lift the evidence. the stain. rocking back and forth, uncontrollable screaming. cradling his head in my lap.
please
please
please wake up
putting pressure on the injury i myself inflicted. stabbed over and over into his heart with not a second thought.
*im so sorry

i abandoned god before he abandoned me.
his scornful eyes cast down
and furrowed brow of contempt
as i walked out of the pearly gates
into the unknown darkness.
he did not lift a finger nor called out the name
of this beloved child of christ.
purged in water and marked by oil
formed the shackles on my wrists and ankles.
lifeless words from a glorified book
empty prayers from empty hearts and thick tongues.
infinite petitions laid on deaf ears.
the throne is too high for him to hear you.

i expelled the devil from my soul
tried to cut him free
but little did i know, with each saw of the blade
he possessed more of me.
setting fire through my veins
oppressing my senses
i could taste the emptiness
hear the falsities
feel pure and utter hatred
see nothing but bitterness
in this disgusting, infested world.
he whispers in my ear and forces his way into my mind
he becomes me.
when i look into a mirror
he is staring back at me.

i closed my eyes before night fell
and the darkness crept in.
before the monsters crawled out from under beds
and the nightmares took their stage.
i couldn't escape them
there was nowhere to hide.
because my monsters live inside.

i beat death to the punch.
opened the door before he knocked.
one, two, three, sixteen
blue little fairies waiting to guide me home.
he cradled me as i drifted off the final time.
my tired eyes and my tired body
finally laid to rest.
i found no comfort in his embrace
nor in his false promises.
there is no place for me to return to.
my home is not some holy kingdom
that i was promised at such an early age.
there is nothing for me there
yet, nothing will make due.

sinfullykillingmockingbirds.tumblr.com

Kisses trailing along his collarbone. Lips blanketing his golden skin. Mesmerized by the slopes, dips, valleys of his body. Fingertips electrifying trace every open space of flesh exposed. Thumbs resting on the carvings around his smile. Sweet taste on my mouth, venom coursing through my veins. Settling in the pit of my stomach, dripping to my toes. Slowing the beat of my heart. His palms burning holes into the small of my back, body magnetized to his.
I swear at that moment, the world itself ceased. The angles above, if their existence is certain, looked down in envy. For something this good cannot be true.

all you had to do was ask. simply say the word. swallow your pride just this once. dismount your high horse and meet me face to face. admit for once that you need me just as much as i need you. all you had to do was reach out your hand and i would be right there. i watched you drown. flood your lungs. i dove and swam in pursuit of help. but you were gone. you descended into the darkness, chained by your own arrogance.

when people are gone, they are often illuminated as those sitting amongst the saints. but not this time. i see you for what you really are.

you're too in love with your own misery to every possibly love anyone else.

where did you go?
you left me here
alone and in the dark
blindfolded by despair
and poisoned by contempt.
running, running
i cannot catch up
no matter how hard i try.
i reach and i reach
to grasp your hand
but you are worlds away.
come back to me
please?
that's all i want.
all that i ask for.
i threw away my pride
and trashed my dignity
in pursuit.
but that means nothing
and nothing means anything to you.
you are blind
cannot see
the blood you have spilt.
you are deaf
cannot hear
my constant cry.
you cannot feel
have no emotion
as i crumble.
you are not human
and you do not love.
you do not care.
simply that.

i destroyed myself
for nothing.

i do not trust
i do not give
i do not love
i do not live

i do not feel
cannot sympathize
i do not laugh
and i do not cry

Day after day I find my mind drifting back to you. To imagined conversations that we would never have outside of my mind. The kind of conversations where I pour my anger out into the open. Where I inflict pain to regain balance in the situation. Where I make you feel like **** for treating me like ****. Where I make you give one ounce of emotion…more than you ever gave me willingly.
In my mind I had told you that I hated you. That I wish the same pain on you that you had carelessly inflicted on me. That YOU were the one that was bad for ME, yet I am the best thing that will ever happen to you and it's a **** shame that you won't realize it until it's too late.
I would make you aware of all the nights I stayed up crying over you. Of all the sacrifices I made and the lies I told just for this to work. I would point out the three scars that serve as proof of this terrible pain.
I had imagined all of these interactions. Planned out every scenario yet I know how it would really play out.
I would look into those hollow blue eyes where the interest had faded. I would search desperately for the boy I once knew. I know he's somewhere in there. And I would tell you that I still love you. And nothing would ever change that.