Someday my bones will protrude,
pushing up like daisies across the fields of my skin,
because I have died over and over,
every day I died,
and this one last time I will be beautiful and sunken in,
and this last time Ana will have controlled me;
when Ana said she wanted me dead,
I knew she would someday make it happen.
Because I cannot afford to be saved,
someday I will be the one the funeral is for.

There is a garden that I want to go,
a place where I can be alone,
a place where I will hang my head -
quite literally, because that's where I've planned to be dead.

I thought I was enough,
giving your world all the things you needed and wanted,
I thought you were happy,
but I was always just falling short.

Your favourite colour was green,
so green was a theme I went with often and gave you most,
but who would have known your green was an envy that caused you to cheat,
and I finally found I was just falling short.

Last I checked the sink
Hadn't been full of water, overflowing
but now I see
the faucet is running because he left it on.

I am the sky, a wide expanse above you.
I am the ocean, I whisk you away and dangers lie within.
I am the iris, I'm hope, and wisdom,
and my courage is waning but it's there.
I am comfort.
I am worth it.
I am blue,
but not the blue you're used to.
I am not sadness. I am not misery. I am not unfriendliness.
I am blue,
but you're not ready for this blue.

your words would set me ablaze,
a firepit for a stomach as it churns,
it burns,
and i am all warm inside

and all you did was give me the time of day.

all you did was speak to me so kindly,
and then
my face was red
and i shook.

maybe 5 am isnt the best time to rile me up...
not that i was complaining.

what you did is back then,
when the future was where i am now,
and the past is where i resided, and
anything in between then and now,
was enveloped in static.
because
after what you did,
i couldn't remember anything else,
and
the static between times
became static in my ears
and my brain.
and the static tells me ...
die, or suffer.
...
...
...
...
huh.

I write music.
I write music and I sing,
I sing a lot.
I play the piano,
I play piano and I write music and I sing.

early morning
i drink
although all it will do
will tire me
i am bored in this class.

Licking tears away with your warmth,
your sunshine dries them,
maybe they will taste good to you.

If i were to disappear, would you look for me?
If i let my wings spread across the sky, would you follow me?
If my wounds were deep, would you tend to them?
Or, perhaps, would you turn away?
Would it be too much to bear, to witness, to lay your eyes upon?
If i were to begin running to the sea, would you run with me?
If i screamed into the nothing as loud as i could, would you scream with me?
If i asked you to love me with all your heart, would you love me?
Or, perhaps, would i not be the girl you were looking for?
Would it be too much to care so deeply, so tenderly, so fully?
Would it break my heart?
Or, perhaps, it would break yours?

Burning tongue,
I lie.

The wrongs are my rights,
the control I had was my vice.

Maybe through my destruction,
people will learn to respect me,
and maybe I'll learn to care.

Maybe.

A little circle
it spins around and around and around
maybe I'm thinking too hard
Or maybe I'm just dizzy.

Sitting out on the front step with you
Under stars in their last breath of this night
Coffee in hand
3 a.m.
We talk.

and so
if i kissed you now
would it hurt us?
and not the kind of hurt of passion bruised lips,
not the hurt of our lungs when we refuse to part,
but the hurt in our minds,
the ache in our hearts
when we know this will never work?

the way my lips felt after a kiss from you,
a spark that I can never find with anyone else
the way your hand felt with mine,
my stress like ice under the skin of my hands while yours were a warm summer sun to melt it away
the way you spoke to me,
your words gentle like a breeze I know from places too far gone to remember...
your touch was gentle, and
if I didn't know any better,
I would say maybe I could feel it again,
but life is cruel, and liking me was your mistake.

But I will always wait anyway,
even if they day we get back together
happens to be never.

I miss him most at nighttime,
when I cannot see him,
when he sinks below the ground,
and I cannot see him.

During the daytime,
he shines bright,
and his warm embrace is thrown upon me.
despite his being so far away.

And I feel his love no matter the time of day.

I sat on the bench at night,
the street is much more lovely when illuminated by manmade shine,
but the darkness sat beside me.
I stared at the darkness, my new companion.
It stared back.

In love with sunshine
so far away,
yet if I try hard enough I can feel it,
maybe this will last,
maybe this will last.

i know im not actually a burden but -
do you hate me? am I annoying? do you want me to shut up?
i know its just my head being mean but -
you deserve better than me, you dont deserve this mess.
i know i can get better but -
i dont deserve help, I'm only going to get worse.
I know I should be medicated but -
i dont have the money, and do I really deserve it?
I know I could just escape the void, but -
it calls my name, it beckons me.
I know maybe people do care, but -
maybe I'll really do it.

when i think ive gotten past it
it creeps back up
it wraps its tendrils around me
a suffocating vice...

please help me cut away
before i disappear.

maybe you just hate me,
giving my love like it's just nothing,
surface level loves making me go crazy,
please just say you hate me.

the replacement was as good as any,
tiny cracks beneath clothing so pretty, hidden beneath frills.
she was enjoyed, and adored, and yet
still she was just that.
the replacement.

so the second the better one has returned to its shelf,
she who served as a backup was once again discarded,
because everybody has favourites, and she was never it.

the backup friend who's no longer needed takes a final bow.
the last choice takes a leap of faith into the arms of death, so tender.

a small space
between being
and not being
and i would like to be
but the world so hates me
and wants me to not be
but i will fight to be me.
i will.

stars taken down from the heavens spun
spun in the darkened corners of my vision
as i told you
and you looked at me,
sick
sick
sickened
by my repulsivity and utter lack of love
for the girl that I had let waste away
in many a dream.
and still i work to frame a perfection i can doubt to have
in this lifetime and more
because if not perfect,
what left will i have to be?

A Monster a day keeps my sleepiness at bay,
I am either sleeping 15 hours or am awake for 4 days,
I hate to sleep because nightmares plague my poor brain,
but if I stay awake too long then my body's in pain,
I'd much rather not have to sleep at all,
but it's human nature.
I am human. Unfortunately.

as easily as I fall in love
I fall out
as if I'm going off a cliff
and as if the sky is falling with me

the sunshine follows me
no matter how far down I go
the sun will go where I go
dare I fall for him too.

Because you shine so brightly
and I will follow you forever
I will likely get sunburn,
but this time I don't mind so much.

what's a good way to say i love you?
what's the best way to really explain to you
the love that i feel for you?

maybe...

no matter where this goes
whether there's more in store for us or not...
you're not HIM,
you're not the villain in my story, and you'll always be far from it.
you could never hurt me the way  HE did.
and although your words carry more weight than HIS ever did,
not once have you ever weaponised your words against me.
and you're real to me.
you're real.
so ******* real.

even from here, you're real.

I sat under a tree,
it felt like sunshine,
it felt like smiles from him.
I sat under that tree every day in the summer,
come fall it didn't feel the same,
come winter it was cut down,
and come spring I planted a new one.

there are many nice words,
some more eloquent, others simple
but still beautiful in their simplicity,
and I use these to accurately (or as accurate as I can get)
to express the intense emotions I feel with my whole chest
with my whole head.
I write
because it's my freedom.

Dear White Lies I was told as a child,
though you came from the mouths of people I trusted the most,
still I was betrayed by you.
You came in the form of
“I love you,”
and “you’ll be okay,”
and “I’ll never leave.”
You were sharper than a knife and you twisted at my heart
until finally it bled out onto a paper that would never be read by anyone else but you and I.
I trashed a note that would make more of you enter into my brain
and grow until finally you looked down upon me
as if I were nothing more than a bug
compared to you.

tiny, she was 8 years old,
and she asked,
"do you hate me?
is the reason youre so cruel to yourself
because you hate me?
am i the reason youre so mean?
is this my fault?"
and i hugged her,
and i cried,
and i said "no.
i could never hate you.
it could never be your fault.
i didnt mean to make you think that it was."

Rip me open,
rip rip rip,
until you see nothing but a shock of white,
my stuffing spills out onto the floor,
and now you have a mess to clean up,
and I am oddly empty.

No matter how bright the sunlight is,
and no matter how much I love it,
he cannot save me from destruction,
self destruction...
words at their finest still hurt...
so I will wilt away,
decay,
and nobody will ever find me.

i am comforted by thoughts of him,
the fire inside my soul when he's on my mind
is far more comforting than i could have thought.
and the way these thoughts present themselves to me,
can be a lot to handle,
and i dip inside myself
and god do i wish it was him instead,
to lay over me
and share in this passion in togetherness,
rather than in two separate places,
alone.
and although poetic now,
the act of touching,
is almost entirely lacking
in poeticism.

i had my heart broken
what felt like one too many times
in my short life on earth,
and although i resented those who broke it,
and resented myself more for allowing it all to happen,
over and over and over...
it was worth it
seeing as i have my love,
and he loves so hard,
and so fully,
and i feel it so deep within myself
it makes me cry.

it was all worth it to have you.

people always represent love with roses
for the simple fact of a flower with thorns
because love can hurt.
there is yelling
and there is hurt
and there are times where all we do is cry
but i cry those tears for you,
and we apologise to each other (although too much)
and at the end of the day youre mine
and youre mine
and i would give the world to be nearer to you
in a heartbeat
i would give everything.
for you.

i preached of you like they were my last words,
or as if you were my favourite book,
or a movie i watched a million times and swore up and down was good,
to friends who weren't a fan of the same genre.
i preached of my faith in you,
and although these words fell upon deaf ears, i preached still.
because you have been safety.
comfort.
home.
and i picked you apart,
and my mother hears so much about you,
and at this point she has got to be sick of it,
but i continue.
i continue.
i.
i bet.
i bet that i
am just your secret.
and that's okay,
sometimes i just wonder why.

a friend you used to know and a girl you used to admire
one in the same clung to memories of time with you
where conversations weren't left dead,
talk for hours, laugh until stomachs pained and eyes teared up,
while now those tears are not joy,
but a deep sorrow that scars brought on,
scars from things too terrible to put into words.
a girl you used to love and a person you used to care for
one in the same drew breath from reserves not her own
on borrowed time, she held tightly to you,
and although it hurt you to be there for her,
there was nothing else you could do but cling to the past
and she hated it
you hated it
your shared comfort in each other under uncomfortable sheets
shaking hands to skin,
tears as you ravaged each other,
just to destroy each other some more.
a person you used to comfort and now only a shadow
one in the same disappeared at some point
and you can't even remember when,
but you let her go,
and she let you go,
it left you both uneasy, but at least now you're both free
from the shackles of using each other
using bodies that barely fit together
souls too big for your selves
hoping it would be enough to rock against each other
using it as a crutch, a means of escape
freedom, you clutch it in closed fist
the uneasy of her unknowns, in an open hand.