should i shave my head female
symptoms of a psychotic break
amber rose twerks to *** drop
hot bald women
how to will your hallucinations away
should i shave my head quiz
what does it mean if i can't feel anything again
borderline personality disorder and psychotic breaks
bipolar disorder and psychotic breaks
ptsd and psychotic breaks
jeremih down on me
facebook
overcoming bitterness ptsd
how to force yourself to stick to the goals you set
malaria
tegan and sara walking with a ghost
sad people smoking cigarettes youtube
******* myself and not make anyone sad

the peonies in the front yard are just starting to bloom.

the only thing i lust for anymore is sleep.
my fingers are aching to touch another human being,
and when a woman lugging around her child
in a stroller asked me the time,
i dropped the package i'd been collecting
from the post office
while fumbling for my phone.
i cried on the way home,
and applied a thick coat
of red lipstick.
thinking perhaps the camouflage of confidence
would hide the fact that i am merely
wilting husk of vapidity.

the peonies in my yard will die
in six weeks.

x rated thoughts invade my mind when i see you
but instead of thinking **** me
i want you to love me
i want you to make love to me
i want to hold you and tell you you're beautiful until you believe it
i am aching to kiss the small of your back
breathe words trying to express my feelings for you onto your bare skin
and i want you to know that every time you touch me
i'm giving you a piece of myself
take care of it
you're pulling me apart and i love it


i guess you make me emotionally *****

i kissed nine people on the mouth last night
but i wish i'd been kissing you.
i danced for hours last night
until my feet were numb and my head was spinning.
i wish i had the courage to tell you
i'd much rather have been watching you.
so many people shared their physical
free love with me
but all i could think is "do you still love me?"
and with each beat of the pounding bass-line,
over and over i thought
*"please miss me"
"please miss me"
"please miss me"

you cut the brown boy
into two lines while i roll a dollar bill
you're telling me about how i should let you shoot up
just once
so you can know what it's like.
i loved the way ****** tasted, the way it felt sitting in my nose.
unlike blow or pills, you don't let it drain into your throat
it just sits there
and pushes into you.
you cut the brown boy
and when we snort it it tastes like sugar
sweeter than the coke cut with B12 that had me up all night
and i can taste it all over my body
like the sour sweet is pacing through my body to the beating of my heart
i feel it in my arms
i feel it in my nose
i feel it between my legs.
i felt so warm, and then i was on top of you.
kissing on your neck and grinding on your lap, i can feel your heartbeat and it is so
s
l
o
w.
the sun is setting outside
and your skin is ignited with the orange flame.
you taste like cherries and cucumbers and ******.
the warmth is even brighter when you are inside of me,
i am holding you so close that i'm scared if we go still we will just
melt into each other.
"i love you
i love you
i love you" we whisper back and forth;
you grip my hands while i ***

we're outside for a cigarette in your car
we're going to go buy some molly in a city far away
your eyelids are still sagging
and everything is still so slow
i can see the yellow of the nicotine in the smoke.

maybe it was your brooding eyes
maybe it was your veins
maybe it was the fact that i can't stop imagining you with
your hands scraping at my back
because when i'm with you,
i can't help but feel like i'm radiating


visions of you running your lips down my back
keep me awake
and i can't ******* sit still
let me taste your ivory skin
let me feel your eyelashes under my lips
because, ****, without you i suffer

and i'm greedy with my touch
because i can't seem to get enough of you
no matter how much i grab
bite
kiss
lick

even thinking about this makes me shiver
**** me with no regret

i touched a sweet girl too long ago
my hands traveled the hills and valleys of her soft skin
and my mouth crashed archaically, desperately against ****** territory
i tasted the lotion she wore and smelled the fear
and the shampoo her stepmother buys her.
i left bruises on this girl
because her body is a map
and i am here.

a rose by any other name would smell as sweet

dear percocet,

i love you, destroy me.
leave me breathless, leave me light
rip the inhibition away along with my sadness,
you are a highway full of toll roads  i'll never get off of
with a very clear, dark destination
(you're worth it)
someone on the internet said that love is defined by sacrifice

what wouldn't i give?

"Percocet can slow or stop your breathing. An overdose can be fatal."

7:06
bringing a new weight to the words "high and dry,"
she crushes ten 0.5 milligram pills of xanax with the **** end of a spoon,
puts half of it up her nose, mixes the rest into a bottle of water along with a koolaid packet.

8:47
bringing a new weight to the words "high and dry,"
she pulls three more pills from an empty lipstick tube in her bag,
chases them with her koolaid xanax cocktail and checks her email:
for every day that she doesn't change her underwear, she makes twenty dollars,
mrsympatico@gmail.com tells her.

9:32
bringing a new weight to the words "high and dry,"
she snorts three more fat discolored lines in a public bathroom with her best friend.
her friend crushed the pills with a pen that clicked every time she pressed down;
breathe in fast and hold your ******* breath.

10:15
bringing a new weight to the words "high and dry,"
she takes her last pill of the day.
today has cost her at least thirty dollars
as she makes a career out of killing herself.

if you're reading this really in the morning
im your ex girlfriend probably
and youre trying to see whats up
im in love and im a lot happier than i was with you
but im still not totally happy, i hope thats satisfying
being an ex girlfriend is such a minor part of my identity, wow
my poetry about other stuff still *****
but my love poems are a lot better now bc i mean them, lol.

if you're reading this at maybe five thirty pm
and you just got off work
and you follow me on hellopoetry.com because you liked a poem
i wrote in 2013 and thought you'd stick around
i'm just gonna spoil the ending for you now:
i'm only gonna get worse

if you're reading this when you should be sleeping
and you're middle name's elizabeth and you lie
about hating shoplifting
i love you too

I am a child of the sun
and it is night.

Home was having my best friend
hold my hair back
because I'd had one too many shots.

Home was listening to him
play a combination of notes
that told the stories of lovers' pasts.

Home was kissing a beautiful dark-haired girl
and laughing because
her saliva tasted like sativa.

Home was a place of sunshine,
peasant skirts, reggae.
Boys covered in dreadlocks smiling up at me from their yoga.

Home was falling asleep
on Vicodin
and sadness.

but now I am just lost.

what scared me the most
is that those few moments before i could tell for sure
when i couldn't tell if the problem was inability to find
a pulse or a vein-
the weak, venomous veins-
were the only few moments that were still quiet
because nothing has seemed to stop since then
the screaming hasn't stopped since then
the screaming hasn't stopped since i started it

it could've been her

Sometimes
I get scared
that maybe
I don't like
the things that I like.

That my yearning
to be liked
has caused me
to lie to
myself.

The scary part is
I don't know
if I'm right or wrong.

beep
beep
beep

Hey, it's me. You know what to do after the beep, so do it!

beep

I love you and I thought you knew that.

beep
beep
beep

Hey, it's me. You know what to do after the beep, so do it!

beep

What happened to the plans we made?

beep
beep
beep

Hey, it's me. You know what to do after the beep, so do it!

beep

Your mother called me today.

beep
beep
beep

Hey, it's me. You know what to do after the beep, so do it!

beep

You never did your half of the dishes.

beep
beep
beep

Hey, it's me. You know what to do after the beep, so do it!

beep

Thank you. For everything. I mean it.

beep
beep
beep

Hey, it's me. You know what to do after the beep, so do it!

beep

Why would you do this to me?

beep
beep
beep

Hey, it's me. You know what to do after the beep, so do it!

beep

*******. You took everything away from me! Everything!

beep
beep
beep

Hey, it's me. You know what to do after the beep, so do it!

beep

I'm sorry. Please come back.

beep
beep
beep

Hey, it's me. You know what to do after the beep, so do it!

beep

My sheets don't smell like you anymore.

beep
beep
beep

Hey, it's me. You know what to do after the beep, so do it!

beep

Not even drugs make me happy anymore. You took everything. I hope you know that.

beep
beep
beep

Hey, it's me. You know what to do after the beep, so do it!

beep

I miss you so ******* much.

beep
beep
beep

Hey, it's me. You know what to do after the beep, so do it!

beep

I love you. I do. I always will. I promise. ****.

beep
beep
beep

Hey, it's me. You know what to do after the beep, so do it!

beep

I miss you so much.

beep
beep
beep

Hey, it's me. You know what to do after the beep, so do it!

beep

Your sister is shutting off this phone and I don't know what I'll be able to do if I can't call you.

beep
beep
beep

Hey, it's me. You know what to do after the beep, so do it!

beep

I miss you so ******* much. I visited your grave today. I can't believe I've survived fifteen days without you.

beep
beep
beep

The number you have dialed is not in service. Please check the number and dial again. Good-bye.

beep beep beep*

I'll hear your voice again tomorrow. I love you. I'll see you soon.

Wow... she may not be innocent, but he is an absolute *******.
DON'T BURN ME!!! (continues grabbing at a burning cigarette)
pure ****** ***** !
I would've slapped the **** out of that ****
Burning someone with cigarettes is a terrible thing to do.
I'm glad there's a great big ******* ocean between me and these *******
you can't really expect anything less from such low-class people.
very classy.
Will they just have *** already?
close your legs....*****
he is just upset that she doesn't want to **** him

I feel calmest kissing strangers,
gently edging their head closer to mine,
tongue crashing against their lips
like full tides against a shore
and hand on their thigh.
I feel safest popping pills,
knowing the way my head will feel like
a balloon that has been let go.
I feel free when the silly boys
pull a ****** on and look at me like I am holy
while they *** inside of the cosmos between my legs.
I'd rather be reckless than restless,
I'd rather be full of the wrong things than empty.

THE SMELL OF YOUR HAIR MAKES ME WANT TO VO
MIT BUT THEN AGAIN SO DOES EVERYTHING. IF I BRE
ATHE IN ANY MORE OF THIS FILTERED AIR MY BILE W
ILL COVER THE CARPET. AT TWO IN THE MORNING I W
ONDER IF THE PORTLY MAN WHO ORDERED A SALAD
THAT HE DIDN'T REALLY WANT AT MCDONALD'S COU
LD TELL THAT THE GIRL HE ASKED TO SUPERSIZE HIS F
RIES PERFECTLY RESEMBLED A TEACUP WITH A CRACK
JUST BIG ENOUGH TO LET YOUR PRETENTIOUS ******
G BLACK COFFEE SPILL THROUGH. SHE RAN HER HAN
D ACROSS THE STAR TATTOOS HIDDEN BEHIND HER EA
R BEFORE SHE HANDED HIM HIS CHANGE AND I WONDE
RED IF I COULD OFFER HER A CIGARETTE BEFORE THE GR
EY VAN THAT LOOKS LIKE CONCRETE COMES TO TAKE HER
BACK TO THE JAIL SHE RESIDES IN. MY SKIN IS TURNING
THE SAME COLOR GREY AS THAT VAN AND I AM SEEING
NEW VEINS IN MY ARM AND I AM A SLOUCHED WITHER
ING ENSEMBLE OF DECAY DESTINED TO DIE IN A POOL OF
***** AND BURIED IN THE VERY EARTH THAT KILLED ME

9:23 i threw a piece of cake at my dad
9:40 i am trying to climb up the wall to the beat of *** drop by wiz khalifa
9:52 my girlfriend is asleep so im just ******* to ****
9:54 i can't get off so i start singing *** drop by wiz khalifa very loudly
9:56 my dad yelled at me for singing
10:15 the whole kitchen is clean now and i run back upstairs
10:19 exchange with my mom goes really bad we are mad at each other now
10:21 slamming my door shut three times because the wall shook really hard the first time
10:45 and no one is awake and no one is talking to me and i am alone


3:45 i am watching intervention and sobbing because the alcoholic socialite is more beautiful than i will ever be
3:58 google search: ptsd flashback racing thoughts grounding skills creative
4:00 surprise surprise the internet has disappointed me i can't breathe
4:12 i'm writing a poem about bipolar disorder because at least maybe it'll get me some attention

there is no such thing as a candid romance,
just words and poses to make people want what you're pretending you've got.

you reek of sulphur, you always did.
the lone match found at the start of an arson.
an insult, a dare:
the embodiment of the phrase,
"make me."

she was so queer,
and looked like my lucky clear lighter;
i could watch the fuel run down
with each cigarette and firecracker lit.

there is no romance
just different ways to start fires.

I do not bite my fingernails
at the thought of you
crawling back and infecting me;
I refuse to be your host.

I will flick you away
like ashes
and you will burn
and crumble
in the wind.

I will not let you touch me.
I will drown you.

You will be gone.

I am here. I am here. I am here.

i am overcome with grief and guilt every time i wash my hands
because i do not know how much of you is left in the fine lines of my palms

she comes back into the room
completely naked
and she doesn't say anything
and neither do i
she just sort of

stands there

for a minute

MY WINDOWPANE IS CRACKING.

I am my light, I am my savior
My ego feeds on *** and drugs
Fueling my archaic fluorescence,
Ephemeral guises of love and permanence.
My aberrant, absconding soul is always hungry.
This restlessness is eating away my passion.
I am floundering out, spinning to the ground
But even at rock bottom,
I am Technicolor.

lines of blue
and indigo
drawn just under your skin.
the beginning sketch
of a human.
pumping your
sustenance all
the way
to
your fingertips.
hide the tip of a needle
in them.
our hearts beat
in synonymy.
i love your veins
even when you make them
collapse.
i love you
when you collapse.

****** knuckles ****** knuckles ****** knuckles

it's four am and my head is all tweezers in sockets and
fingers in throats and
never enough sleep

****** mary ****** mary ****** mary

come and take my eyes from their sockets
with a melon baller
and hold me till i'm not screaming anymore

****** nose ****** nose ****** nose

it's almost tolerable
that my bed is empty when my nostrils burn
and everything tastes like pills

red to the core;
the always bleeding girl.

once my teeth have all fallen out,
i will line them up like little bone tombstones,
and love my dentures more than
i will ever mourn my
flesh.

everyone needs
to leave me alo
ne because it hu
rts me too look
at them and I d
on't know wher
e I am and the
bed reeks of s
ex and laundry
detergent and
when I die will
my hair be stra
ightened? mak
e up my own fu
cking lyrics and
cry a lot and c
ount my allies
on my fingertip
s when did eve
ryone start hati
ng me?? am I
going to hell? i
s this hell? mu
sic isn't beaut
iful anymore b
ecause of you,
you ******* fu
ck why do I ev
en bother with
you why did I
even talk to yo
u you were alm
ost as ****** a
s I am!!! I'm sca
red to stick it t
o the man

I hate everything
Vicodin doesn't get me high
The under-wire of my bra is cold
Punk is never coming back
My parents hated me
Some books are hard to read
Cigarettes made Janis even better
I need a cigarette
Bleach smells terrible
People go to work with wet hair
Four people were murdered in my city
I have a rash on the inside of my elbow
She didn't want me back
Women have to shave
Pillow creases draw lines on my face
I want to go back to bed.

my words foam up and come out in squeaks and stutters
and i always say all the wrong words
and embarrass you in front of your friends
my words are spat, not spoken when we're fighting and i'll say
anything anything anything
even if it is so cold and so acidic that my chest hurts
after it's left my throat
my words are too loud, too harsh, too demanding
empty promises snorted away
over and over again

your fingers tracing my thigh
and you look at me like you want to memorize every part

what a difference a year makes

you sneer at me from across the room
the only way people know we're together is when someone else tells them

i can't blame you for giving up on me
i can't blame you for falling out of love
i can't blame you for seeking comfort in someone else

i'm still here
and i'd do anything to be what you want again

my words don't mean
much of anything
anymore

1) you're going to need to know how to stop slurring and how to walk straight. be able to say the alphabet backwards when you're even close to unconsciousness, know when to stop ******* driving.
2) sleep will be either the most evasive or clinging lover. when you are awake for six days, write. when you are about to sleep for two, make sure you are on your side.
3) when the money is gone, you need to learn how to leave your body when they enter it. eventually you won't be able to feel a thing. but know that when you're sober she touches you a year later, you won't be able to feel it.
4) ******* won't be as good as getting high. don't feel like a genius when you wake up and have that idea.
5) your lovers and friends will all be addicted. drugs will become the only **** or interesting thing to you. years later, you'll still crave the taste of opiates on her tongue.
6) some of them will die. you won't be able to cry.
7) instead, you will be completely numb for weeks and you won't be able to tell the difference between the dope and the pain.
8) the dope will eventually become the pain.
9) it will never **** the pain.
10) lose all self respect now. lose all timidness.
11) don't forget you will lose all freedom in your search for it.

Your face is tattooed on the inside of my eyelids,
I take your words like medication,
your scent of sunflowers and thunderstorms is so clear to me that
I pretend it lingers on my skin.

Visions of linoleum floors
soaked in your blood;
needles lying on the ground,
your body shaking and taken away
haunt me.
The possible future is filling
my nightmares and I don't know
how to tell you to stop.

You are my drug of choice
but I wish you'd change yours.

Did it make you feel good
to give a girl twelve years your junior
enough ******
to **** her?

Does it get you hard
when you see her
fall back,
susceptible to you?

Did it make you feel like a man
to make her blood
almost as toxic
as you?

How do you fall asleep at night?

whenever i have *** it feels like
i am subletting my body to fingers
and mouths and
genitals
every gentle touch reminds me
of how i am
******* beautiful,
a bombshell,
suicide blonde,
a perverted venue
surrounded by a thorny cage of ***** hair.

every time our eyes meet,
i can feel you walking the tightrope
between living out the torture **** fantasies you have
and falling in love with me.

whenever i have ***,
i scratch your back until i can feel
the skin come off and under my fingernails

my head hurts
where am i
i smell like *****
...
not mine.
the walls are moving
but i can't hear anything.
took her away
the drugs took her away
ithought they were going to help me
you sadi they wer going to hel[ me
help me
where are you
are you with god
i wish i could see you
aire youi still beatuitful

**i miss you so much

all the lightbulbs in the world won't keep me warm

the intricacy of lines on your palm won't save you from a ****** future

god is hiding in the bruises on their knees

eat me out and leave a husk

they drowned me in an ocean of ***** and blood

would you still love me if i wasn't soft and beautiful?

i hate feeling like i can't move my own mountains,
like i am waiting to hand someone else the shovel
or whatever the **** people use to move mountains.
i hate how much i hate my sweat,
i want it to pour, i want to drown in my stick and my stink
but instead i will smell like baby powder and cocoa butter kiss and va va vanilla.

my nails are short and a little bit yellow
i wear baseball tees and flannel and i can drink like a man

but my doors are still being opened,
old men still love me,
my mountains
are all still being moved
without me

it feels like the skin is at war with itself,
fingernails as artillery,
and i hear them whispering like these pinprick bullet wounds
aren't critical until i can feel the pain-
but there is a bomb that will go off inside of me

i can feel the clock ticking down inside of me so loud i am vibrating,
it's so loud you can see my hands shaking

and bruises bloom like flowers on the cemetery my body is becoming
and i can feel my blood being replaced with embalming fluid

"stop this" i moan,
and she says back, "just stop yourself"

It's two in the morning
and I'm lying in bed,
listening to the blues
and smoking.
You light up my phone:
"God, we could've been great."

The guitar weeps
and sings me ballads
of lovers lost.

With each exhale,
I hope to rid my system of you.