We all perish
There's no denying
We're living our lives
But we're already dying

The other day my mother told me
I should be a writer.
I did not have the heart to tell her
that I am everything but a writer.
I hear too much in silences.
I think oceans are often lonely,
and trees don't always want to let go.
More than half of my books
are less than halfway finished.
Someone once told me,
"You're too young to be so old",
but I didn't notice,
I was too busy losing things
I never had.
I'm not weak,
I'm just broken.
Most days are overwhelming;
I often think of not existing.
You should try it sometime,
it's peaceful knowing you don't
mean anything to anyone.
It's a shame sadness seeps
through fingertips, otherwise
one day I might write; even though
I am everything but a writer.

the elephant in the room....  
...you need to lose weight


unrealistically optimistic
focuses on goals
ignores pitfalls
stumbles
astonished
fails


we could argue
we could fight
but not tonight
josephine


Now how about
some Leonard Cohen
from memory
happy christmas

I wish I could go hours
Without checking my phone
To see if I've missed anything,
Or if anything missed me.

I wish I could go days
Without speaking to anyone
To see if these thoughts inside my head
Could just quiet down.

I wish I could go months
Without thinking of myself
To instead become more selfless, engaged in
Helping others.

I wish I could go years
Without this hatred that I feel
Towards myself and everyone else,
Maybe then I could gain some inner peace.

But people start to worry,
They murmur, whisper-talk, "What's wrong with her,
Why is she not responding, to us, to anything.
Is it a phase? Is she okay?"

I wish they would realize
That being silent is helping,
Healing.
They just don't understand what it means.

I wish they would understand
Going silent is saving me,
And that I wasn't all that put together in the first place,
When I reacted to every thought, movement, or action made.

I wish I could tell them
That I'm not alright,
That I'm tired of talking, replying, being a functional human,
But it seems I've lost my voice.

For some inexplicable reason,
I can't seem to let go.

Let go of what?
Let go of anything.

I hold grudges that are ten years old,
Unable to budge my conscience.

I refuse to halt friendships,
That I know are venomous to my health.

I brush aside help,
From anyone, because I don't deserve it.

I reject hope,
Claiming it won't work, and will only bring pain.

I decline food, water, anything that keeps me alive,
Because I know death is sweeter than living.

I forgo my own opinions,
Deciding that really, they aren't right, and everyone knows that.

The depreciation I experience,
Is unlike any known description or overused metaphor.

I can't let go of these unwanted, malcontent feelings.
I'm useless, I barely even function.

The voices in my head can't get any louder.
**** yourself, you aren't worth anything, you're better off dead

So how do I die,
When I can't let go?

I'm the dust of forgotten stars;
The smoke between your lips;
The shivers on your spine

Frozen to the bone
But my heart is aflame
My mind shudders
And my soul is to blame

We're all fighting our own battles
And I try to keep that in mind
But how long can I go
Without people realizing
That I've already lost mine

The smell of a guy you're about to kiss; his breath, his eagerness, his lust radiating out of his inner being

Suicide note: butterfly wings are so beautiful and soft, so unlike living

A girl frightened by her own shadow but not her death
A girl that does not fear death but craves it

Being cremated and having your ashes spread throughout the world is so beautiful; you can finally go wherever you want; you are finally free

We all perish
There's no denying
We're living our lives
But we're already dying

Why would you waste your life
On a girl
That's wasting away?

Love lost is still love
Just the way that a downpour is still just rain

I am envious
Of the sheets and bed that you sleep in
They get to wrap you up
And hold you in ways I never could

Somewhere in between
The 2 AM nightmares
And
The empty passenger seats
I fell apart.
And I don't know
If I can be fixed.

My life isn't real;
I'm a hallucination;
My body is a dream;
And my soul an illusion

This fire is consuming me
My veins are ablaze
My lungs are nothing but smoke
My thoughts have turned to ash
I'm being burned alive

Tendrils of smoke
Surrounding my mind
Like a crown of amnesia
The only thing I remember
Is to say that I'm fine

Her soul is broken, tangled, intertwined with those of the lost, the dead.

The ice queen sat
On her frozen throne
Inside her arctic castle
Counting the biting remarks
The cutting phrases
That made her so cold

Falling blindly feels like flying
I guess that's why
I hit the ground so hard
When I thought I was on top of the world

Being human is an inevitable fatality

What I thought was a crown of flowers
Was actually
A crown of thorns
And what I thought was love
Was actually
Lust

When I sleep
And when the tendrils of fantasy envelop me
I dream of late night whispers
Tangled hair and tangled bedsheets
I dream of you

Sever my life
Cleave my soul
Split me in half
I don't want to be whole

My body, mind, and soul are
Cracked
And broken
And no amount of
Tape
Good thinking
Or bandaids
Will heal me

Smoke me like a cigarette
Turn my bone to ash
My body to smoke
Inhale my desires
Exhale my fears

I'm caught between
Who I want to be
And
Who I am

In my life
I have only succeeded
In producing
A couple tons of carbon dioxide
And nothing more

If I could release the ravens
That reside in my ribcage I would,
But I'm too lonely to let them fly free