I'd give anything to be the blade between her teeth,
to be the irony that inspires her unease
As she drifts unwillingly
and tastes of salt and sea- foam dreams,
Stars fall upon our cheeks,
While she speaks in tongues like winds from east
and I sit quietly
sipping on every note that she can sing.

I still paint with words and hate the taste
but I'll never take for granted
the ones you waste.

His lips tasted
Like mint and blood
fitting perfectly with mine.

There is a Tempest in my head,
The boy who knew my blood.
Probably insane.
But he knew me, nonetheless.
We spoke of ghosts and comforts of hurt
All night until you slept.
Your irish tone sank deep
And resonated within my bones.

You don't have to worry,
I can live without your sympathy
Disorder is my norm, really.
*Just stop telling me to put on pants.

Things follow me.
They stride across
Layers
And sit down
As if for tea.
Always in silence,
Always dark.
They buzz in my head
And tickle the edge of my mind.
I hate them.

I like knowing that your back
Is still marked with the memory
Of my nails
And that your new girl can't compete
With the things I used to do.

Im shivering.
******* cold, again.
Insomnia and two hundred dollars
In meds that don't even ******* help.
It's no wonder why I'm sick
When my body and mind rejects anything
That's set firmly in reality.

I fell apart so fluidly, I'm always breaking down
I built this place for both of us, but I only see the ground
Tell me what it's like, when you think you've lost all hope
While your eyes still burn like fire and I'm choking on this smoke
I believed in everything you knew you couldn't do,
I believe you lied to me,
and you believe it, too.

He took my hand,
And led me up the stairs.
Past his younger brother
That I went to school with.
When we got to his room
He threw me against walls
Grabbed my hair
Slammed my head against the bed post.
I stayed quiet,
Because no one
Will hear me whimper like
A wounded animal.

When I get angry
Or nervous
My long-gone accent
Hints at my past
Reappearing for the sake of
old pains.

Don't forget
How I sit quietly
With burning eyes
Coaxing
People into my will-
Charming as all hell
Until I burn everything
With grace
Leading sheep
In stead of me
To my fate.

There was a woman
That I used to sing songs to
Until her goosebumps were evident.
I'd give her calm, smooth looks
That made her question her sexuality.
Sometimes, I could even tempt her into a kiss
Or ten.
But mostly, I just made out with the guy she loved.
You can bet I left that *****
******* confused.

Short hair,
Framing a face in greasy locks
Colourless eyes,
That are drenched in more shades than I've ever seen
I make no effort as of late to appear invested.
Clothes hang off of a sunken frame,
That once seemed appealing
I guess I'm a bit delapitated.

Let me sing to you about
The Boy Who Could Fly
So you could use it to connect
the dots of my life.

Can't **** it all away, but I could love you in a dream.
Right before I walked away I could watch you as you bleed.
I could hold your hand like gold, as you're slowly turning blue,
I can hear my name between your lips-
I can hold a shovel, too.

My skin feels like you kept it.

There are boys in the house that stutter.
It makes me wince when they
S-s-speak, with a smile and no shame
Because I was a girl
With a stutter beaten out of me.

How he'll never cut again
And how the light somehow seeks people out.
Makes them stronger.
Tastes not of alcohol,
Or sweat drenched nights
”this is ****.”
I turned off my laptop
And smoked another bowl in the dark.

I'm such
A piece of
****.*
Get drunk and get over it.

Have you ever made me shake
The way your iced words
Make your breath catch and cease intake?
Yes, yes.
A thousand times yes-
You made me into my own mess.

you have small hands.*
I looked at them,
How they shook
Always.
I suppose.
I placed them on my elbows,
Freezing.
Nervous.
Its okay- mine are smaller.
I looked at this girl,
Like I'd never seen a person
Before her
And placed my hand against hers,
both small, with graceful fingers
Finally grasping the concept
Of not always being alone.

There's an option to get there
On nearly every website.
Represented by pixels and a bit of colour
Completely unsubstantial.
But for me, it's not so generic.
Not made so just because of definition.

I remember
The cold, so much deeper than my bones.
And gasping for my last handful of
Breaths
The way everything dimmed.
And the lights filled my vision.
Still, no fear-
Just patience and
Resignation.

Sometimes all I have
Is my voice.
I sing until I'm dizzy
And the walls know my soul.

I like voices
That sound like the darkened colour
Of honey and just
A bit of sand.

I wish I could sleep
Through trauma.
Go into shock
Like the tv talks about.
Repress reality
Like how I dealt with the past.
Anything really
Just to forget sound
And sensation.

I feel sick.
My pulse quickens,
My face pales.
I hate you.
I hate me for
What we did.

Tonight I get to be angry
And hurt
My chest is a raw wound
And my lungs dont work.

Can I **** another night
Or maybe just myself
All this angers hurting me
Make me ashes on a shelf

I became fire
Licking at canvas- deep and blue.
Clutching tin with sharp edges
And biting at a ball in my lip.

It slid a finger down my neck
Growled
Walked through a book case.
I gave them it
On accident.

Could I not breathe
If I were a theif
That sat upon edges
Beyond reprieve
And long lost sanity?

”She's happy here.”**
I hear that line
Pretty frequently.
But for some reason,
I never really am.

Why do you sleep all day and stay up all night?!*
I studied her concerned face,
Measuring,
Chewing thoughts.
My demons can't get me if im awake.*
No.
I can't stand the sun anymore.
No.
I'm just so afraid.
Still not something to tell her.
**Fine. I'll go to ******* bed.

Baby, I can break you
And be your
Poison everything.
But in the end, remember-
You never even
Got a real taste of me.

He dipped himself cautiously
Into my soft white
Curves
As if I were a crisp stream.

bury me
somewhere
ive never seen.

I dont like it when people
Don't walk with a sense of emergency
When my mind keeps running.

For a few years
I could whisper into dreams
And haunt whoever I could think of.

I knew a young boy
Who cut his own throat.
*******, was he beautiful.