Your body lay next to mine, the morning sun
burning your outline, ashes into the air,
as I reached out to catch the remnants, palms empty.
I felt your name escape my lungs, evaporating

into the damp grey. Body weighed down by
empty sheets and the aching emptiness.
Mind racing miles, a carousel blurred in confusion.
Entirety of my being desperately weeping.

An addict through withdrawals, all I want
is one more hit. One more time to hear the
sound of my name fall of the surface of your
lips. One more memory of you brushing the

hair out of my face to brand its way onto
my brain, to relive it over and over again.
One more night of holding my body against
yours, the warming comfort of your skin.

My bones long for you, fatigued by your absence.
There is no color, there is no sound, there is no taste.
There is no sense without you here,
without the certainty of your existence.

I cried for you not to go, on knees in prayer.
So afraid of losing what I prized most.
But you never stray from my mind,
declining the wounds of loneliness to ever heal.

But to be near you without your touch,
to have to act like I don’t know all your secrets,
that I’ve never held your naked body,
that you don’t give my life meaning

is the worst punishment of all.
I’m in love with this addiction and
I’m not about to quit. My string of
****** that sends me to nirvana.

Does he kiss your eyelids in the morning when you start to raise your head?
And does he sing to you incessantly from the space between your bed and wall?
Does he walk around all day at school with his feet inside your shoes?
Looking down every few steps to pretend he walks with you.
Oh, does he know that place below your neck that is your favorite to be touched
And does he cry through broken sentences like I love you far too much?

Does he lay awake listening to your breath?
Worried you smoke too many cigarettes.
Is he coughing now on a bathroom floor?
For every speck of tile there's a thousand more
You won't ever see but most hold inside yourself eternally

Well, I drug your ghost across the country and we plotted out my death.
In every city, memories would whisper: "Here is where you rest."
I was determined in Chicago but I dug my teeth into my knees
And I settled for a telephone and sang into your machine.
You are my sunshine, my only sunshine
You are my sunshine, my only sunshine

And I kissed a girl with a broken jaw that her father gave to her.
She had eyes bright enough to burn me. They reminded me of yours.
And in a story told she was a little girl in a red-rouge, sun-bruised field
And there were rows of ripe tomatoes where a secret was concealed.
And it rose like thunder, clapped under our hands.
And it stretched for centuries to a diary entry's end where I wrote,
You make me happy when skies are gray
You make me happy when skies are gray and gray and gray.

Well the clock's heart it hangs inside its open chest with hands
Stretched towards the calendar hanging itself
But I will not weep for those dying days.
For all the ones who've left there's a few that stayed.
And they found me here and pulled me from the grass where I was laid.

Our generation is the victim of deceit. Misled by the books and poems and movies that has seemed to become our diet. Our form of entertainment eventually becoming the subject of our daydreams.

I am so sick of this romanticization of suicide. This dark artistry that seems to allude this picture of choosing to end ones life. That there is love in pain and martyrdom in the death of someone before their time. And so we thought ourselves saints as we drew the blade across our skin. We envisioned a gallant setting of roses and candles at our funeral. We thought that the hanging of the noose was some form of metaphor, some elaborately constructed final act that we must abide to in order for the 'perfect ending'.

Through this journey of recovery, I had reached an epiphany. Calling ******* on this obscene lie I had been feeding myself since middle school.

There is no beauty in suicide.

Suicide does not make a saint or a martyr or whatever gold painted character you imagined yourself to be after you had passed.

Suicide is the end. That is it. It is death, and for all we know, you may cease to exist. Total abyss. You won't even be able to realize you are dead because your mind will no longer work. Just black.

When you draw the blade vertically up your arm or put your mouth around the barrel of the gun, you better be committed. Because once that trigger is pulled, there's no going back. El Fin. There is no hope of waking up in the hospital as you pictured. Your story will end right there.
There is no beauty when your parents or your lover walks in to find your dead body, trust me. I know. There is no beauty in this complete devastation, just inexplicable pain. And that pain will last them years. Even 15 years later, as she is washing the dishes, your favorite song will come on the radio. She will stop, close her eyes, and imagine the 'what if'. What if you were still alive. What if you were standing next to her, enjoying the little pleasantries in life.

Imagining your funeral is useless, because you will not ever know how it will be played out. You will not be some floating spirit in the back of the church, watching your mother weep over your corpse.

I agree that there are reason's to end ones life life, and that people are entitled to them.

I just believe that the youth today should not be fed this ******* romanticized picture of suicide.

you are my monday nights

drunk alone.

you are the choked expectations

carved hollow.

I will bite your lips

next time you lie.

your blood in my mouth

will suffice.

I could arrange the broken bones
but the cracks would still
map out like constellations.
my ruptured ribs are bruised
and floating with no home.

you traced my scars with fingertips
and kissed my forehead ‘till I fell asleep.
you know I am broken, my dear.
so please, handle with care.

i visit your grave
every single day.

relive the day
that you went away.

Does he kiss your eyelids in the morning when you start to raise your head?
And does he sing to you incessantly from the space between your bed and wall?
Does he walk around all day at school with his feet inside your shoes?
Looking down every few steps to pretend he walks with you.
Oh, does he know that place below your neck that is your favorite to be touched
And does he cry through broken sentences like I love you far too much?

Does he lay awake listening to your breath?
Worried you smoke too many cigarettes.
Is he coughing now on a bathroom floor?
For every speck of tile there's a thousand more
You won't ever see but most hold inside yourself eternally

Well, I drug your ghost across the country and we plotted out my death.
In every city, memories would whisper: "Here is where you rest."
I was determined in Chicago but I dug my teeth into my knees
And I settled for a telephone and sang into your machine.
You are my sunshine, my only sunshine
You are my sunshine, my only sunshine

And I kissed a girl with a broken jaw that her father gave to her.
She had eyes bright enough to burn me. They reminded me of yours.
And in a story told she was a little girl in a red-rouge, sun-bruised field
And there were rows of ripe tomatoes where a secret was concealed.
And it rose like thunder, clapped under our hands.
And it stretched for centuries to a diary entry's end where I wrote,
You make me happy oh!! when skies are gray
You make me happy oh!! when skies are gray and gray and gray.

Well the clock's heart it hangs inside its open chest with hands
Stretched towards the calendar hanging itself
But I will not weep for those dying days.
For all the ones who've left there's a few that stayed.
And they found me here and pulled me from the grass where I was laid.

I’m afraid Sunday’s expectation
is harder to swallow than I thought.
that the grey, evening air does not sit
in my lungs so easily.

the promise of your presence hangs
on the delicate thread of your word
that has been known to give way many
times before.

stop running me through the sevens
to meet the same conclusion again,
do not try to lift these spirits
just to let them fall through your hands.

just let me move on from your broken word,
verify my claims and rid from this hurt.

Time has shown that this is our set road
There is hope when doors are not closed
When your words are kissed in the air that I breathe
and your ghost knows only to follow me.
I am tired of always trying to win.
I am tired of you not letting me in.
And I should crawl inside and pull your words right out.
You should tell the truth but you don’t know how.
Swept under the rug as each problem arose.
To feel your body but your touch is so cold.
To taste your mind in your gritted teeth
To steal your eyes and see what you think of me.

But I hold my own skin
to remind me not to let you in.
And I swallow my own tears
to remind me not to let you win.
And I erase those three years
to remind me that I have to live.
And there is no pain in my heart
Because I no longer fear the dark.

I saw her sunlit silhouette
laced in the whites of the morning.
her cigarette stained mouth escaped
with the memory of her kiss,
of the taste burned on my lips.
I have to remind myself that
she is real,  as absolute as
the air that crushes my chest,
as the words she left on my breath.

If it was meant to be, then why is it so difficult? Why am I always asked for the extra effort to hold your end?
I fear that God has a grudge against us. The angels are casting their bets. They look down and laugh. They laugh at me. That stupid girl.
I thought "at least we have love."
But what is love when even that proves not strong enough to last?
It's an empty promise.
But my world without you is an empty life. At least now I have hope. A false sense of it but hope to say the least. Built upon the lies you routinely feed me. The lies I willingly accept.

Ignorance is bliss, after all.

this constant state of being unwanted is unflatteringly lonely. i was supposed to be different with you, right?

im stuck in the middle. i can either be successful since i was cursed with great potential or i could just **** myself because i was also cursed with intellect. im too smart for hope. but im in the middle and i shouldnt be. i cannot function this way.

i dont like to admit this, but i am scared of death. but i am also incredibly distraught with life and people.

just so disappointed.

my fingertips pulse blue and black and all feelings flow away to nothingness. the air that bites my face with razors reminds me of how much pain I hold while being completely and consumingly numb. there is a hole in my chest and blood gushes, trying to making up for the vacant space.
will winter give me his arms, carrying me to sleep? will his lips give me the words wedged in unused  vocal chords? I am missing something and am devastatingly alone.
he left early with the sun and I long for him as a summer day. I possessed nothing but the company of the dark. as time passed, I finally appreciated the company of stars.

clouded lungs, charcoaled black from swallowing storms
lightning dances through my veins, hot and cold
scars that map my body tell of where I'm from
but not they make no sense because the way is gone

I'm the shadow, stay in corners, dancing in the night
and I keep my words in my head to be closer to the fight
confronted every day, but their faces never stay
their knives are in my back but I feel no pain

there is so much pain...

I am the means to my own end
people offer tears but there's no use for them
time is speeding up, turns out the gun was held in my own hand

take me back, make this disappear
I'd do anything just to get out of here
but time is speeding up and I am stuck holding the gun

I thought he was mine.
I was so stupid,
I thought he was mine
When he held my sleeping body,
When he swept my hair and kissed my forehead.
I thought he was mine
When we ran away to cemeteries
And watched the stars until
Our eyes were no match for sleep.
I thought he was mine
When I realized I was falling for my best friend,
For someone who took the time
To peel away the bark to see what
Was living beneath the exterior.

You told me we needed space
You told me that you couldn't do this
And I didn't worry,
You would come back to me.
You had to because
You are mine and I am yours
But it's been two years
Since you left me here, exposed.

I’ve been holding, breathing in your skin
Breathing your words, breathing your sins.
When you’re walking your shadow away from me
Knowing you’ll be there tonight in my dreams.

But this time I have decided
You’re not longer welcomed in my head
No longer tangled in my words
No longer hoping for the worst.

I’ve been holding your bones along
To the words of this tired song
Stuck in circles, stuck in replay
Time to move on but I’m oh-so afraid.

And it has been decided
To leave these thoughts in my head
You need’ t hear the words left for dead
My love is for the broken
My love is best unspoken.

And it has been decided
I’m no longer your wanted sidekick
No longer the girl you write of
No longer the girl that you loved.

Tears slip from fingertips
Words unheard, like the apology
We both know you owe me.
No, I don’t want to numb the pain, it’s mine
It’s all I have. It’s what has stayed.
It’s what I’ve used to mark the days of these past two years.
Well, let the tape record
Since this is nothing more
Than what we’ve rehearsed many times before.
New explanations fall out your mouth
Darkening clouds only offering
Shelter from the burn of coming too close.
Seems silly, why do you care if I get hurt now?

Well go on and run, are you finally done?
The game is called, it’s clear that you have won.
It’s never enough
You always come back for more.
And you drag me out, tear me apart
Left with wounds you only heal in the dark
Your touch will always leave a mark
If you’d ever stay around.

Well I sought for you in alleyways
In prescription relief, the back of Springfield streets
Where I hoped I’d see you in your old habit gown.
You lost yourself inside that flame
In pursuit of relief caused by what you loved.
You told me you could see heaven
I guess I wasn’t in there.
But now we speak through gritted teeth
Through cut wrists and sunken cheeks
You said something towards me
I almost wished I understood.

You took my razorblades
Said there’s no use
Now you’ll relieve my pain,
You’d be here to love me
Well where are you now?

Well go on and run, are you finally done?
You disappear along with the sun
It’s outside my window
If only I could look out
And you drag me out, tear me apart
Left with wounds you only heal in the dark
Your touch will always leave a mark
If you’d ever stay around.

And I write and write of awful things
My infected love of haunted memories
Your face follows me down the streets
I will always look for you.
Well go on and run, are you finally done?
The game is called, it’s clear that you have won.
It’s never enough
You always come back for more.

And I fall in love with the one next to me
And the promise to take away my grief.
I know it’s a lie
But at least he tries.

Except I find myself coming back
To this meaning that I lack.
But this is what you chose
At least we both know
In the end you got what you’ve always wanted.

expectations ring around
the fragile glass of champagne
party favors tracing the
tracks of the damage done.

you weren’t there to hold my hair,
I said ‘good night’ to the floor
of a stranger’s living room
soaked with my blood stains and ***.

these Friday nights without you
leave me emptier each time,
longing for what was once mine
but now dissolved in the sun.

he was the storm
he was my fire
he was the wave
of pain.

he was my calm
the deafening quiet
stripped of my bones
i hang.
i can be strong
i will outrun him
i will win
his game.

eyes meet
no way to escape this time
no constructed lies
all I ask is
to cut loose before your word falls through
before their demise
please just leave.

here’s to the grey-lit sunday’s
and the hours you called me on the phone
and here’s to the nights together
where it finally felt like home.
here’s to all your new lovers
and how they all look like me
and here’s to my shattered bones,
how they refuse to break cleanly.

you took what you came for
with no regard for the pain
it was never of your concern
you just came here to ****.
you drug me through circles
till there was nothing left of me
I’m left with an unrecognizable shell
you took everything.

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

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

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.

why did you tear away from me?
why did you have to go away?
I still feel your skin on my sheets.
your smell hangs like morning sunlight
through the windows watching you go.
give me these Saturday mornings
and I will give you Friday nights
leave me kisses that stain my skin
and rose shades to color the light.

let us take those little pills
one by one until we’re gone
from this detached demise,
this passive aggression
that rots this very foundation.
our frame is broken and I’m
afraid these cracks just can’t
be mended. but these charismatic
chemicals that dance through
our veins can blur the rough
ridges. the burn of bourbon
warms our cold shoulders
and suddenly the world
is rosy again. I can’t see
the white flags, but I can
see the glisten of your skin
and the curves of your smile.
the morning may look different,
but tonight we are in love.

let me say that i love you. and let me say it not as a means to put a leash around your neck but in attempt for closure as i toss you into the air, hoping that where ever to which you choose to fly, you will eventually return back to me. i love you as a promise, that not a day goes by that i do not think about you. that i choose life today because that means im only closer to seeing your face once again.
let me say that i love you out of appreciation. i was stuck in a dark cave, my pleas for help were just echoes ringing around down into the abyss. but you heard me because you right there with me.
let me say that i love you for being there, my 17th birthday. for being the one that got involved. you were the first one brave enough to. and you didn't even know me. you didn't own me anything. but you took those pills and the razor blade from my hand. you told me that i deserved to live and i cried because for the first time, i believed it.
let me say that i love you for the dimples in your smile. the light blue waters of your eyes. the softness of your hair and the way you hold me in the night.

let me love you.

I am tired of being alone.

The words' icy edges pricked and prodded
the insides of my lungs, ******* the dry air,
leaving with an aching hollow chest.
Each letter etched itself into the sky,
morphing into the surrounding fog.
Feet sealed in place, minds of their own
refusing to forge on to my desolate pilgrimage.
So tired. Bones crying from exhaustion,
eyes sighing with relief as I shut them.
My only company, the thin air and
damp fog, embracing me.

I am tired of being alone.

felt your warmth
crawl inside the empty
bones of Springfield
and I offered a sigh
of relief.

it wasn’t home without you
and I couldn’t breathe
without witnessing
a little part of me drifting
away every time.

for a year it sat as
a museum.
and for a year I tried
to trace our old paths
but the streets were
no longer familiar.

it was an empty house
my empty house
that I had once lived in
and each weekend I
would return to it,
trying to figure out
where everything
once was.

cold shoulders crack under pressure;
just shield your eyes and look away.
it’s easier to deny you are lost
when you never see the light of day.
learn to love the tears in your seams,
the pages that withered in time.
healing has a beauty of its own.
be gentle with the time it takes to grow,
to embrace the spaces in between,
the process of learning how to be free.

Turn the mirror closer
So there is nowhere to hide.
No veil of explanation
Just what cruelly meets the eye.
Feeding yourself lies
Day after day
Searching for any way
To alleviate the pain.
Swept under the rug
Hidden from the light
Danced around on toes
But tripped over at night.
Searching for a way out
The easiest of ways
Hoping for the best
And waiting for the day.

But the day never comes
And the numbers pile high
And I’ve been standing all alone
Can’t even say goodbye.

Don’t tell me this is the end
When it never even began.
All I wanted was to have you
But that I never can.

You never wanted love
Just something to fill the hole
Where your heart once beated
Before your soul grew old.

I will forever look for you in crowds
the sea of faces look all too familiar
they always look like you.

And in every dream I will ask where you are
Your name repeating off my tongue.
Why do they say you don't exist?

had always stood out from the others. He was the answer key that I had compared all others to. All of them fell short. For five years I was reluctant to give myself to him and I am unsure as to why except for the fact that every time the thought was considered, I pictured myself myself walking into an inferno. My entire being engulfed in flames; all of my nerved exposed. All so exposed...
Those before him were that compared to a virus. Running swiftly through my veins; my body burning in a constant fever. My own love was destroying me.
But falling in love with       was like rediscovering a sense that I had not known was disabled. I was able to see clearly for the first time in years. He wiped away the sleep from my eyes. The world was beautiful again. I never knew a touch could be so gentle, so loving. It had been so long since I've been held. I never knew words could sound so beautiful until when they glided off his lips.
Together we discovered the ability to slow time. Kissing his lips, I felt each second, each pulse pushing throughout his veins. The faceless boys before him were solely on possession. They consumed me entirely. There was no 'me'; I simply did not exist. I was not living.
      was nirvana. He freed me from pain and worry. He introduced me to pure beauty. I did not know that I was able to feel happiness anymore. He stayed*, and dug it out of me as if he had always known it was there. When I look in the mirror, I actually see my reflection. My smile. It's been so long...

Fearlessly and willingly, I walked into the flames. And in all of his beauty, he set me afire, raising me from the ashes of my shadows, freeing me. Able to stand on my own. I am finally alive.

The naïve hold letters, light on their tongues
Afraid to set fire, watch wars have begun
As long as their hands are clean.
And the depressed drown their lungs
To muffle the screams they’ve cried
Since the years of youth.
And the vengeful will live since they have reason
While the sad mourn over the turning of seasons.
They’re both standing in line for their turn to die.
So kiss my lips, since we are guaranteed tonight
Since I am your ease and you are my high
Tugged habit bound come back with the light.
I felt them try to pull you back
But please stay with me dear, till I draw my last.
The bitter are screaming, heard off in the distance
Sharpening their words, claim their victims
In the name to collapse and conform.
The desperate are trees, they long for your after
Arms yearning north, I found myself under
The shade. Waiting in our meeting place.
Please don’t leave me with my reflection, she doesn’t play nice
Surrounded by haunting documents of time
She never goes to sleep.
As she watches me die, I hear her laugh
But please stay with my dear, till I draw my last.

may the taste of blood remind you
of the damage that you have caused.
of the trail of gleaming galaxies
peaking from under my skin.

casting me away does not hide
the havoc you have wreaked inside,
the house you tore down from the bone,
that we had built with our own hands.


you tear me down by my methods
but I am only trying to
salvage a life after knowing you.

may the taste of blood remind you
that you were the first one that drew.

When we first met, it was almost like a movie. And you were kind, and warm, and loving and all the unidentifiable qualities that I’ve always known that I was missing but that I couldn’t quite name. You brought me so close to the sun that I nearly lost my footing. Oh, but the view! An adventure—you were the unknown yet the assurance that you were, in fact, what I’ve been waiting for. You became a virus—in the most romanticized way. My dear, I did not wish to be rid of you. You were all I could see, a scarlet fever casting rosy shade. And the doctors all told me that I would lose myself to you, but I only almost heard their warnings. You see, when you are that close to the sun, it is hard to tell between a sunburn and seared skin. From that height, everything is small, detached, and insignificant and it became my only sense of reality. But even you, yourself, became a challenge. Blistering scars behind elbows not quite completely covered by long sleeves in July heat and the collecting makeshift holes marking your belt. I almost asked, but you see, then it would be our problem. And I wasn’t quite ready for that. I knew we were on the edge of something great, and I didn’t want Her to cut us short. You disappeared with Her for weeks—sometimes I wished that you were in the arms of another instead. Cause when She whistled through the needle, into your veins, She always took more and more of you away. She carved you hollow and you stood as a ruin of the temple I once worshipped. I almost didn’t recognize you and from this height, I couldn’t see how you slowly began disappearing. I still think about you often, and what name you would have, carved into stone above the relationship gone bad. You are my Almost. Because we were on the edge of something beautiful, but we fell short. Almost—the name sat on my tongue as your mother asked me if I had known, and the words almost made it out of my throat but even I was not ready to admit that you slipped through my fingers. Almost—as in I almost made it to your apartment in time. And maybe I could have stopped Her from taking the last bit of you. Maybe I would have caught you before you hit the ground.

you held me like the empty promises
that slid through the cracks
you said I clung too closely
before you broke my back

I saw the way it lit your eyes.
Since childhood the thrill of
melting wax and hissing fuse
spurred such excitement for
being alive.

Whispering wishes to lightning
buys, carrying light to the crystal
chandelier, lighting the miles ahead.
There the world stood still.

We breathed in the shadows
sighing their cries into the oppressing silence.
I threw myself from tall buildings
I’ve always wondered what it would be like to fly.

Spending nights in graveyards, dancing with ghosts
Memories were always my favorite friends.
But now they all have your face
and I find myself running away from home.

Sometimes, I know you only
as your absence, hanging in the air.
I befriended her, she knows my name.
I learned to love her, or to love
the gift she gives: a pain to call my own.
A knife in my back is inherently mine, after all.
On the days where the sunlight
seems to vanish she is there, waiting
to embrace me. She’s more beautiful than you,
her skin shines like gold, her youth preserved
like a stained-glass saint. She is the only
thing that withstands time, a monument.

You are more than aching arms outstretched to
the empty air, than the frustration of beating the
same dead horse. You are the sound of
shattering glass when you walked into
the bar with someone new after you canceled
our plans once again because you were ‘busy’.
You are the noose around my neck, looking down,
smiling at the sight of me strangling to escape you.
You are words written on fogged glass,
vanishing before being read. You are
the cold beds of strangers and my tear-
drenched plea for you to stay, just this once.

the sink is rung with blood
and  with crimson on your hands
you smile through your painted mask.

your veneer of kindliness
is cracked, my dear, and our dinner
guests might be able to see through,
to see the real you.

you can mask my bruises in makeup
but lately these wounds have been
getting deep. these cuts are not so shallow
any more and others can see your art.

you painted me like the nighttime sky
in purples and blues, speckled and shaded
into your creation.

my knees are cracked open
and all that you can do
is pour salt from your
pocket to keep the pain anew.

but you have been running out of tricks
and there is nothing within your grasp
to keep the rope around my neck,
to keep me confined in your grasp,
I’m afraid we have reached an end.

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.

car alarm lullabies
harmonize with the howls
of the dogs next door.
I could paint every inch
of these beige walls, but
they still wouldn’t feel like home.

I ******* hate birthdays. Well, more accurately, I hate my own birthday. I hate the obligation of it. The expectations of a day about myself and how it was so glorified in my childhood. People would gather, be happy, and enjoy each others company just to show how much I am loved. And for one whole day, people would think of me. What *******. What ******* ******* it is to expect people to gather all in one place when I don’t even have friends to go out with on a Friday night. And how selfish of me to assume that on one day my ‘friends’ would surpass the stage of shallowness to think of anyone but themselves. And I know how entitled I sound, but I promise I’m not because I have never expected such things to actually happen. I would never dream of them extending out of the realm of delirium. They are just nice thoughts. Nice, selfish thoughts.
Another chapter to the absurdity of birthdays is the wishing of “happy birthday!” Oh my god. How awkward. I want to be wished so, but also not at the same time. I do feel happy and even honored that someone will take the time to say that to me, but I feel that if I don’t act bashful that I would come off as self-centered. But also when my close friends, and occasionally when I do have a boyfriend, don’t say anything I feel sad and dreadfully insignificant. But then I remind myself that the world does not revolve around me and then I feel guilty for feeling sad and no one should feel guilty for feeling sad.
And through writing this out in hopes of finding enlightenment to my long tradition of hating July 6th, I have just come to the conclusion that I am in fact not fit to function in this world.

told there was a savior
but you found one of your own
floats in the needle
and dances with your bones.
creation is for a god
but you took it in your hands,
perception is your world
and unconscious is your land.

retract the roots restricting my lungs.
you despise how I can still breathe
without you standing next to me,
holding the bones you have undone.

there is power in destruction
and intentions in your lies,
disdain glowing in your eyes,
of illusion’s interruption.

why won’t you just pull the knife?
why would you just end this life?
you could watch as I bleed out,
as I give all I have to give
one last time.

"I told you I loved you. It was the first time I had said it out loud, but I don't expect it to bring you back to me. I say it more like lighting the last match just to watch it burn."

The truth comes out when it all boils down to the fact that I had a lot more friends when I kept everything to myself.

He loved me much more from behind closed doors as I opened my veins in secret.

I am alone. I am lonely.

I am much too needy.

I cannot hurt you with words.
Now with the hundreds of miles between us.
Not with the bitter night's air
slicing open my lungs and
closing the corset around my ribs.

I cannot strike you.
My will refuses to pick up the knife
even when it is mounted into my back.
I cannot inflict pain
just to regain balance after these years.

You cannot love me with words.
You have not even tried.
Wrote me off, a lost cause
What is there to lose when
I am the only one who invested.

But you can hurt me with silence.
You yourself carved your name into my wrists.
It was your hands around my neck as I screamed.
It was a slap across my face that summer night
when I asked you to stay.

But if you were to stay, all would be forgiven.

the truth is that I miss you.
that I thought we were best friends.
I still wish the best for you,
and I hope to see you again.

tell me how you miss me
I love how sweet that sounds.
as you kiss her neck
as you lick her sweat.
you hate how she says your name
and how her lips taste like wine.
you hate her blue eyes
you hate how they’re not mine.

and you say you miss me.
isn’t that just sweet?
but you’ve made your choice
and your choice wasn’t me.

we’re on the corner of main street
drunk on whiskey and wine.
I feel your mind wandering off,
leaving me behind.

I could never just move on
I’ve always got to tear myself down
I can’t read the red lights,
can’t refuse a losing fight
and it leaves me on the ground.