my psychiatrist tells me to find the source of my hate in order to defeat it. in order to manipulate it back into a positive effect.
my source of hate is in myself, of myself. of the stupid, childish things that i mistakenly and purposefully do. like letting people in. getting attached to them and exposing them to...well...me. i'm embarrassed of myself and i don't want other people to be punished by my presence. i hate myself because i get to know these beautifully ugly people just to push them away...or let them slide through the creases of my fingers. i hate myself because i drove myself insane. i refused help when i knew i needed it and then lashed out because i was all alone. i hate myself because i couldn't even succeed in suicide. i hate myself because i hate living. i hate myself because i loved him more than anything. i hate myself because i allow him to continuously abuse me. i hate myself because i chose arkansas. i hate myself because i had the chance to live with him and so i'm the reason why we're not together. and i have to live with that. i have to live with wondering whether he's using again or if he returned to that *** crusted blonde *****.
but most of all, i hate myself because i can't be happy with what i willingly chose.

i love myself.
i don't need a reason for that.

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

I still see my hands coming off the railing. I instantly realized that everything in my life that I’d thought was unfixable was totally fixable—except for having just jumped.

i can't even be creative anymore.
i am unable of describing this feeling
that grabs ahold of my chest and clenches
squeezing the life right out of me.

but at this point
that would be too merciful.

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

I see you in alleyways
and in the sunshine in his hair
I beg for the grace to forget you
but that would only be too fair.

He hates the way that I take pictures everywhere we go. He tells me I am too distracted, that I need to learn to live in the moment, to enjoy it. But he doesn't know that my heart is overflowing with excitement and joy that I am rarely ever granted. My days are mostly void of color, of feeling, that sometimes I doubt whether I am actually alive. He doesn't understand that I carry my camera around to freeze these colorful moments, to stick them in my pocket for days that I can't even see the sun through my window. So I can remember what life was like not black and white.

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.

I feel that maybe the only way for people to take me seriously is to actually do it.

That it will finally validate my sadness and finally it wouldn't just be 'all in my head.'

Maybe then people will feel their obligation.

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.

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.

“When I was younger, I thought all I wanted was to be alone. Cramped in that two-bedroom house with my parents and siblings, with no space to think or to even take a **** without someone knocking on the door. I wanted to go to college just because I thought I needed space–space to breathe and to become my own person.”

“And now?” Mallory asked. Each word that left her mouth wrote itself across the pitch black of December and I stared at each letter until I could not only make sense of the question, but to realize the answer.

“And now I realize that my own person is someone that I don’t like very much.”

The words were as unkind slipping off my tongue as they were sitting in the back of my mind. Now they’ve materialized, holding an undeniable presence and their heavy aftertaste made my stomach turn.

I don’t know if I was looking for sympathy. If I was waiting for her to reassure that I was in fact not a terrible human being. That her company is not a polite obligation. But she sat there saying nothing, and that was louder than anything she could have said out loud. I looked to my right, at the woman I wordlessly fell in love with. Her blank stare into the dimly lit street below pushing me farther and farther away and suddenly I felt the need to say anything to anchor me to her before she drifted too far away.

“I left. And I get that it was my choice, but there was no way I could be satisfied staying in this town for the rest of my life like everyone else. Moving to a city where I knew absolutely no one; it was a change. I went from speaking to the same people everyday for four years to not saying a single word for multiple days in a row. I couldn’t be gentle anymore; I couldn’t be vulnerable. And if that makes me a bad person, then I guess I am. But I did it to survive. You can’t criticize me for my methods to survive knowing you.”

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

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

he pulled the stitches
around my scars
and they fell undone
in his hands, beautifully
laced between his fingers.
he kissed away the bruises
the blemished story of
my skin. the scathed
remnants are all i have.
the gentle touch of
his goodbye. the hand
clasped around my neck
tightens with each step
he takes away from me.
please stay.

I have lost everything that matters.

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.

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.

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.

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.

when his poems are no longer about you
the songs are not yours
and his eyes gaze past your body.

Do not hand me promises of someday, when things are easier, when we are older and have our lives figured out. Somedays do not exist, they are ghosts collecting in the corner of a house falling apart. They keep their mouths tightly closed in thin lines, biting down on the bitter, empty promise. Afraid to open their mouths to let the words once said escape into the air polluted with maybes and laters.
Do not tell me to be careful. Do not lecture me on patience and perfect timing. I am tired. I am nineteen years young and exhausted by each one. Excuse me, taking the knife, cutting to the chase. Erasing the maybes and the if only's off of the notebook paper and photographs littering my bedroom. I will not wait in line. I will not count the seconds to find out a fate that I did not chose. That I did not create. That sneaked up on me in the middle of the night as my dreams were dancing around patient expectations. I will not waste my time.
Do not tell me someday, when we are older. Because, honestly, I do not have a lot of time. I do not expect to stay here much longer.
I am exhausted.

I feel that I have lived much longer than I was supposed to. The seconds draw their claws on the chalkboard slowly, slowly, slowly... The razorblade separates the skin, the familiar inferno engulfing my body. The familiar deafening heart throb as I lay in the pool of my own emptiness, my regret. The shame of returning to the old habit. I did not count the pills, the tears did not allow sight. But a palmful later, I found myself on the ground, curled up with him. Potential has always been my greatest enemy. I have been running from him my whole life. I've been trying to drown out his screams. It was a good game.

1.You are the mistress. ****** had been there long before you and courses through his veins. She has his heart.

2. Kiss his scars and show his yours. He spends so much time intoxicating his faults that it is easy for him to think he is the only one that is flawed.

3.Don’t be offended when he offers to help you shoot up. He wants to share a part of himself with you. It will always be a part of him.

4.When borrowing his coat, check the pockets for spare needles.

5.****** will always be the most intimate experience for him. *** will become basically non existent.

6.You will need to buy him new belts often.

7.Get the number of his dealer. They usually have an adrenaline shot handy for when he overdoses. Also, he will usually know the location of your boyfriend that has been missing for three days.

8.When calling 911, speak clearly. It is hard to tell the dispatcher that he is not breathing when you’re having trouble doing that yourself.

9.They won’t let you ride in the ambulance with him.

10.Time freezes in the hospital waiting room.

11.Don’t take it personally when he yells at you for not letting him die.

12.Try not to cry when he tells the nurses to escort you out.

13.His parents know you tried your best. They did too.

14.He will beg for you to come back. And you have every right to walk away. You did not fail him, you are just deciding not to let him destroy you.

15.You will still love him. You will wake to the thought of him and fall asleep whispering his name. Every time your phone goes off, you will hope that it’s him even though you blocked his number months ago. You will still feel his hold on you. And every time you’re alone, crying in your room you will remember that you chose not to be with him.
But that’s okay. You chose yourself.

I find myself longing for my faith. But nothing can make me believe in a God anymore, or even want to worship him.

2. I guess I just miss being naïve.

3. Sleeping pills.

4. Finding out that taking too much Lexapro makes me throw up for hours on end.

5. Finding out that taking more Lexapro won't make the sadness go away. It sits in the corner, waiting for me to come running back to it.

6. I run.

7. I'm scared.

8. I'm scared of death.

9. I'm scared of living.

10. I'm stuck.

11. I've allowed myself to think about your death. I've been in denial for so long...I guess I was just waiting to see you in the crowd one day.

12. Dying does not make you a ******* saint.

13. I want to cut again. I miss it more than anything. But I can't handle disappointing my parents.

14. I feel bad for my suicide attempt. I'm disgusted with myself that I made my family go through that. But I am a selfish person.

15. I am so alone.

I hate this. The feeling of complete incompleteness when I leave him that tends to ambush me moments after I leave his house. As if I had lost a limb, a leg if you will. Yes, I can find substitutes. I can find a prosthetic, but it's not the same. I will always feel the pain of losing that leg. I will always slightly limp, the new one does not work as well as the original. He is a part of me.

So when I leave, I spend hours and maybe even days locked in my room. I wear his sweaters day and night, his smell clinging to the fibers. I read the books he gives me, and sometimes it feels like we're reading it together. I listen to the playlist he sent me and I swear I can hear  him singing.

And I know I'll see him again. But what am I to do in the meantime while bleeding out?

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

daylight speaks through somber teeth,
detrimental deeds hang on its back.
carve the words stuck on your cheek,
let winter crush all that we once had.
wasted, losing time.
I lost what was mine.
I’m sorry I let it smother our light.
I’m sorry I didn’t put up a fight.
my limbs hang bare, like trees;
I’ve given you all of me.
like the cold, you are life’s demise.
maybe I should have stayed inside.

The bed is cold, my love
Space drifting farther along with time
Your breath only bites my skin
Of where your lips have been.

But your touch burns red in streaks
Kiss pollutes me with this disease
Of codependence on absence.

Your voice is different now, a change in pace
As I run out in hopes to save the last remnant of me.
The masks are on, words are drawn
Into our backs.

Too close to what I love the most
He told me to stand on my own two feet
When he broke every bone.
Cornered and scared, I could only dare
To find my way out.
To find myself again.

It’s so cold out there,
You closed the doors.
Taste of what I’ll never have
To leave me wanting more.
All I needed was warmth:
A smile, a touch.
But you said
I loved you too much.

coffee rings flood the
rivers on the maps.
the number of lipstick-stained
cigarettes document the miles
under our feet. buttoned shirts
and greasy hair. letting only
the stars tell the time.
the world seemed infinite through
the mirrors. possibilities thrived
in the towering trees and the
deep green of life.
your hand in mine,
where it was always meant to be.

Staring at the wall,
The textured, bright green painted wall.

Listening to every breath I take,
As if they belonged to another.

So much effort, so much work
To lift my ribcage,

To claim air into my lungs
In the will to live.

Exhaling in shaking rhythms,
As if the deed is painful.

In a way, it is.
By surviving everyday,

More days follow
That I face the ugly mug of reality.

And that’s what pains me.
How the rainbow colored world so vividly painted at an early age

Was a lie.
That sometimes no matter how hard you try,

Bad wins no matter what.
And there’s nothing I can do about it.

So I take refuge in the warm cocoon of blankets,
Staring at my bedroom wall.

Let myself sink into another world
Where silence floods every corner.

Where no one can reach me.
Not even reality.



Closing the doors in the faces of everyone and everything,
Leaving me alone to my empty mind and quiet room.

It seems like my room is the only place left
That reality can’t find me.

So I lay here,
Safe for now.

I could tell you what it’s like
to hold your breath for 4 years,
since I know you have no clue.
and I could tell you how it felt
when I watched you walk out that door
how the words sliced my throat,
begging you to stay.
you saw the blood coughed up before me
how it was killing me.
but it didn’t slow your pace.

I could tell you how our room looked
after you stained it red
and how the sun never managed
to find the windows.
I memorized the steps
from the light switch to the bed
because that’s where my world existed
for weeks on end.

I cut off my friends
because I couldn’t handle
them asking about you.
what explanation do they want?
you didn’t want to stay.
I wasn’t worth it.
our friendship wasn’t worth it.
you just wanted to **** other girls.

could you tell me how mornings are?
cause I haven’t seen one in so long.
I can never seem to wipe the sleep from my eyes.
could you share the secret to not caring?
you seem to have it down to an art.
I always hold on to things too tightly
and they end up falling apart.
do you hurt at all
when you walk across
the shattered pieces
of what we had?
cause I’ve been picking
shards from my feet for years.

do you love her?
was she worth it?
does she help you forget
the person you left behind?

Indulged me in its golden glow,
traced its light across my face,
trailing freckles in its wake.
It hung in the sky for the
world to see, prideful in its praise,
entranced in its illumination,
I strayed, held at a safe distance.
Long hours embraced in your heat,
your company inevitably consuming me.

Hypnotized, I came too close.
The warmth that wrapped
around my skin pulled me in
and now I burn to the touch.
Fever catching like flames,
suddenly I am a wildfire.

The days collect and seasons run.
Your light diminishes to dusk.
Winter creeps into my bones,
gray-scale shaded the home
I once found comfort in. Your love
lingers for shorter hours now,
chasing its shadow on the ground,
I grasp with fingertips as we drift
further and further away.
It leaves me longing for summer days.