If you ask my friends what I've become
They'll start singing song lyrics
"Tried to find you t the bottom of a bottle, laying down on the bathroom floor"
"You're gone and she's gotta stay high, all the time, to keep you off her mind"
And by God they wouldn't be wrong.
I've taken up these habits and made them my own
Creating my own personal bubble that's headed straight for hell
I'm not saying what I've become is all your fault
But you certainly contributed to my status.
My chain smoking, my drug use, my increased alcohol consumption
My need to drive dangerously fast, stepping into traffic, my laying on blacktops
To everyone I know, it's as if I'm certainly flirting with Death
And I guess its true
And I'm not taking 100% of the blame
Some of it is on you.

Day 1: I want to tear my skin off. My heart is beating so fast i can barley breathe. I feel so filthy.
Day 2: I can't believe this. I don't want to be here. Why did this happen? Why did I let this happen?
Day 5: I guess I drank too much and my friends were to drunk to stop me.
Day 10: I can't face my friends, I can't live my life.
Week 3: No one knows. He hasn't said a word.
Week 6: It happened again, I was sleeping and he did it again. Why did I stay the night? Why didn't I go straight home?
Week 7: He left and kissed me goodbye. I don't know how to feel.
Week 10: My life's out of control, I can't believe whats happening.
Month 5: My boyfriend knows. But not all details. Just thinking about it, makes me want to take a shower.
Month 8: I finally came clean to my friends. They're appalled. They hate him now. I still feel filthy. I can't get his smell off my body still.
Month 11: The anniversary is soon. What am I going to do?
Year 1: I haven't spoken to him in months. I haven't thought about it in days. I still feel as if hes on top of me, why can't I wash him away?

Its an uphill battle with myself and others. Some days I can't get out of bed or even feel like breathing.
But I try not to let him get to me. Because if he sees my weakness from what hes done,
He's won.

We thought he'd never see sunrise,
Now sunrise is all he sees.
Up in heaven with our other passed loved ones,
He's smiling cheek to cheek.

With the angels singing hymns,
And he glancing down,
I'm sure he wants to say:
*"It's alright, I'm okay now."

Cute
Pretty
Beautiful
****
While most women love hearing these words from the lips of their lovers for the evening,
I don't.
They aren't simple complements, they're ways to make me vulnerable.

Now I just sound like a white girl with issues, yeah I know.
But the truth is that everyone who has told me those words as only wanted what's between my legs.
And half the time, when they got it, they left.

I'm tired of men seeing me at 8am with no makeup or heels
Looking at me as if I had lied to them
Because I'm obviously looking for love* in the wrong places

One night stands don't make hoes into housewives
But they will certainly turn housewives into hoes.

The ones who give us the most trouble
And stick through all your *******
Just might be the one who will call you their queen one day
And your daughter their princess

We're going on an adventure,
A wonder we may find.
For in this corner we may see,
Another heart like mine.
Her deeply troubled anguish
Scares me to the core.
For I can see how she is insecure.
I know what she searches for,
Deep within my soul.
She's a scared little angel,
One that's rare indeed.
But it seems no one can find her,
Or even looks, you see.

While I am sad we  turned out this way
I'm not sad to see you with another girl anymore
I don't worry you're thinking of me
I worry you're not happy
Because even though you pushed me around and made me out to be the bad guy
At one point I loved you
Therefore even though you treated me wrong I wanted you at the time
Therefore I will always want you to be happy
I don't want you with me
I want you with someone who will make you better.
I want you with someone who will call you on your behavior where I did not
I want you with someone who will make you hate yourself when you yell at her like you yelled at me
I want you with someone who is good for you
Like he is good for me

If I die young, don't let my family put me in a church or place they deem holy, for its not holy to me.

If I die young, lay me down by the roots of an old oak tree.
Let the wind blows my hair and caress my cold skin

If I die young, take care of her.
Take care of the girl I taught like a daughter and loved like a sister
Teach her everything is okay and that I was once ashes and I will be ashes once more.
Tell her I loved her and give her all my possessions
Teach her that I will be okay and I will watch over her as she grows up strong and wise like I taught her.

If I die young, take care of  my children.
The ones who fight against their monsters with battle axes and confidence that I'll be proud of them
Tell them I died fighting just as they are now
And tell them never to give up because I'm still so proud.

If I die young, burn me with the logs of trees long dead
Let my ashes spread through the sky and fall like fresh snow
Make sure to give everyone my best.

If I die young, please
Please don't forget about me

I saw your face today
No I didn't get sad or anything.
I got angry because I know you saw me too.
You saw my moms car and looked the other way, biting your nail as you do.
I know it was you.
It wasn't your truck,
But I'd know that green ballcap anywhere.
Because I'd steal it every time we were together.
I'd know that God awful plad shirt anywhere
It was and if your only nice shirt
You always wore it all nice and tucked in on dates
So don't text me once you stumble upon this and say it wasn't you
Because I may be sick with terrible eyes
But I always know when I see you.

The first thing that you forget, when you stop talking to someone is the sound of their voice.
So I suggest with every voicemail you receive, save it.
Whether it be from your grandma or your aunt or your boyfriend
You'll miss them sooner or later if they leave you.
When It's a healthy time for you, and you miss them a lot,
You'll still have their voice.
The way they spoke, every lisp every stutter
You'll hear it in that old voicemail.

I once loved a boy.
Some know most of  the story, some only know half
But only he and I know every end and out of that year and a half.
I still have his voicemails,
but they aren't only the happy ones.
Matter of fact, he only left me a voicemail when he was angry or when he had news he couldn't keep to himself long enough.
I deleted the happy ones after we broke up.

But I didn't do it because I was angry,
I did it because I wasn't worthy.
And yet, they're still in my trash bin waiting, ready to be recovered.

Because some days, I wonder if he's happy.
Then I'll hear his voicemail telling me he got his GED.
And it was because of me.
Because some days I wonder if he misses me
Then I'll hear his voicemail telling me he loves me and always will

See, I have a problem: I'm a hoarder
I horde voices.
I horde the sound of laughs and cries,
I horde the angry and the happy times.
I take them all and keep them close.
And I try and keep phones for as long as I can.
Because when the phone goes,
So do the voices that I hold dear.

So darling if you wonder if I still have every old voicemail you've ever sent me the answer is clear.
If I miss you, I press my phone to my ear.

But now it's been so long that your voice scares me.
The old voicemails sit and take up my data since I'm too afraid to delete them.
That means your gone forever
And while I may have broken your heart I hope you forgive me
And I hope this voicemail makes you smile.

She wanted to know
Just why he kept leaving her

He was the sunshine in my rain
And when it became a monsoon
He simply smiled wider.

She looks down at her body
And closes her blue eyes
It takes all of her self-control
To not start crying
Because as these girls are proclaiming
How proud they are to be skinny
The only thing she can think is
“I’m trying to be okay with myself.”
Because as she looks at her toes,
She sees her *******
And her stomach
And her feet
She thinks she’s so fat
Or so ugly
But so do caterpillars
Before they realize their potential
For butterflies

I once had a small purple vase.
It was almost a year old.
But I remembered how my ex and I blundered
And all of his things had to go.

I gave away his sweatshirt
His shorts and shirts got burned
And the teddy bear he gave me
Was torn apart by the people who mean most to me.

He gave me a purple vase.
It was wrapped pretty in a bow
Once it had living flowers
But now I had to let it go

I went outside with my true family
And recorded my final blow
Of shattering the vase
On the ground below

I felt the ricochet
Of a piece run astray
And my baby exclamed to me
That I cut myself indeed

And thats when I realized
How my last relationship was really through
Because if I cut my head with the other one
He wouldn't have held my hand to help me
He would have let me do it on my own
And not even checked on me
I know this for sure
Because it happened once before

I feel free now for sure
That all his things are out my home
And once I see my baby's things replace them
It becomes the final bow

For once I see no remnance of him
I think I'll truely feel clean
Once my forehead heals
And memories repress
I'll finally be able
To fully put him to rest

Darling I'm not the same as I was back then,
I thought comets and stars were things in the sky
Until I looked around one day to find
That they're in as many people
As they are in my mind

No one is really ever the same, you see
Everything changes you and me
Every thought and action we do will lead
Into another alternate reality.

What if we turned left instead of right that one day?
Would we have met with early demise?
Or would we have gotten that job we had hoped to find?

See these are the things that are constantly on my mind
For I can't help but contemplate how the stars align
To bring us closer together or further apart
Or weather or not you see someone's true heart.

I guess it's a difficult concept for some to grasp
I mean even I am having a momentary lapse of reason

I guess that's just part of being human
Thinking about what's bigger about us
Or what could bring our downfall

So many of us just sit and contemplate what it means to be in this body
And the longer we think about it the more uncomfortable we become with ourselves

Because with how our world works if you're not a size zero through nine you're not worth the time of the males searching for mates.

Or if the muscles in your stomach don't look like a six-pack then you're not a very good looking male in the first place.

But if you sit and think about how to make this world crumble
You'll see how everyone thinks they're nothing.
But if you tell a girl or guy they're made of stardust and clear skies
They'll laugh and call you a dreamer.

Maybe I am,
Or maybe that's what poets are
Dreamers who think the world is pretty terrible
So they string lines together to create a scenario to help others see the bigger picture

That everyone is made from stardust.
That everyone is beautiful.

Why would I look up into the sky
To see fireworks tonight?
Baby all I have to do is stare into your eyes
To see my whole world shine
Against the pale moon and the sparks of colored light
I fell in love with you even more this night

You were never
Anything more to me
Than a cigarette break
Chased by a shot of cheap whiskey

As he kissed my lips and felt my thighs
I watched in the mirror as my soul slowly died

Just hold on baby girl
Your time will come soon
When you will enter Summerland
With those who truly love you
You'll frolic amongst the flowers and dance with in the rain
And that is when you'll see
You'll be whole again

My life is falling apart at my seams,
Im crying and im fighting,
Pulling out my hair and skin as i try to comprehend whats happened to us,

What happened to me?
What happened to you?
What have we become?

I dont even know which person im talking about anymore.
But the message is still the same for all of you

Im wounded and I'm scaring up now.
Im stressed and tugging at the skin again.
Hardly eating, barely breathing again.
Not living again.

But of course some of you dont know ive been in so much trouble before.
All you know is what I've told you, and that doesn't mean ive told you everything

Someone, im begging
Look into these eyes of mine and see whos really trapped inside
Shes screaming for help, crying even
But she doesnt know where exactly to turn

She knows noone is looking for her because they seem to enjoy her persona.
They seem to like how guarded she is and how much of a mystery she beholds.

Someone, please, see the zipper on my back and shed my facadé.
Someone help me reach myself.
Because the zipper is too far up my spine,
I can't reach it by myself, my arms don't bend that way.

And if noone is willing to help me, that's okay.
I understand it's a selfish thing to ask of you to save me.

But if you think of all the times I've helped you when you were in crisis of self,
Wouldn't it soothe your mind to help me be at peace as well?

No never mind, forget I said anything.
I'll just stay here with my arms bending in every direction,
Until I can finally grasp that zipper and let her breathe the fresh air once more.
Because after all,
Even superman needs a rest from flying high all the time.

There's a train departing at 1am.
It's not the normal trains who's wheels squeal on tracks or whistles blow and wheels screech to avoid crashes
The train I'm talking about is my train of thought.
Normally everything is linear.
Everything is fine and I over think every once in a while
But every once in a while, around 1am
My disaster train leaves and I can't rein it in
Here come the insecuties and old heart breaks
Angry old rants and sadistic new views
It's all jumbled mess and it comes with feness
And crashes through the walls of my mind like-well a freight train.
There's a train leaving at 1am.
We know where it goes and what hops aboard.
Let's just try and close those eyes
Before your up late enough to hear the wistle blow.

I feel as if I'm becoming a *****.
As if my body is no longer the temple feminists and my mother claim it to be.
I just feel my body isn't my own.

I meet men every day.
Once I searched but now I let them find me.
It's not like they sit long enough to hear my words.
To hear how educated I am and how I'm pretty cool to be around.
Nah, all they want is my womanhood
And I, being weak for words and a pretty face,
Let them have it.

"That ***. ****, that ***."
Is that my redeeming factor?
"Those eyes, ****"
Is that the only thing about me, clothed, that interests you?
"****, them moves"
Boy if how I work in the bedroom is all you seek I need you to keep moving.

Because I'm sick of being the ***** of my friends

I had a conversation not long ago that most of my male friends wanna "hit that hard"
I gotta say, for a second I was flattered.
After being called ugly since I was young, being wanted in any way is flattering to me
Call me pretty and I'm yours.
Call me **** and I'll show you.

****
Reading my own words have instilled in me a will to stop but
The fact is that I won't
This destruction of my psychosis is simply the beginning, and certainly unbecoming
Of a girl like me,
I'd call myself a woman but that would disgrace the ones who work hard and love harder.

Nah, I'm done sneaking out of my house to hit it and quit it.
I'm done lurking in shadows for love.
The simple fact is that I don't know where this derailed train of self destruction will lead me but I have my one way ticket
Might as well find out, right?

Everyone always wants to live in the fast lane.
And they all tell me I should do the same.
But why should I?

I don't want to run by people who could enrich my life
I don't want to go a hundred miles a minute.

I want to enjoy life.
Stop and smell the flowers,
Not see them and say "oh how pretty"

I want to love hard,
Not much.

I want to feel the soft embrace of a dedicated lover
Not just of everyone who throws an offer my way.

If I'm being completely honest
As long as I reach the air and finally feel my colors change
I'm okay with whatever happens around me

And maybe when I jump in a car with some pals and scream with them "ROAD TRIP"
I'm okay with running a hundred miles a minute.

But someone, once I'm in that left lane,
Please remind me to stop and breathe.
Remind me that life isn't just the wind blowing in my hair or the music turned up loud

Life itself is hidden in the dull moments.

And don't just remind me that life is worth living through those dull moments
Remind me to cherish how slow things can go.
How beautiful people get when they show you their souls
And only in dull moments and awkward silences can you see that in them

Only in loneliness can you find out who you are when you stand alone

Always remind me of those things
Because when you start running like that you get addicted to the adrenalin

But if you slow down,
If you see how people are made of comets and stardust
Maybe you can see that you yourself are, too.

If you live your life in the left lane,
How can you take the proper exit?
The exits that hold the best times are off to the right.

Don't tell me to live in the fast lane.
I don't want to brush past people
I don't want to be inside this shell that keeps me from slowing down

Thanks for your offer, but I think I'm well off
I have flowers to smell and people to meet

I must simply be doing something wrong,
For if I'm worried where my track will end,
Surely that means I don't trust myself one bit.

Sure, I've haulted my existence to grab a taste of recklessness
But how far will the road take me,
Until I'm breathless?
Lying in roads ****** off greens
Jumping in cars without gasoline
I've become the very thing my mother tried to keep me from being.
I want to stop from this parade of self destruction and maybe get my life together
But that too is hard to do
When all you do all day is drink, smoke, and waste away.

Once
You spoke of our souls living out their days in the garden of Eden.
Yet you were the one who bit into the forbidden fruit
Condeming me as you have been,
Being tempted by the devil you have killed me
Taking that discarded bone that was my life and driving it though my pale and aguished heart.

Have I confused you with my bible references?
Let me clear it up for you

You were my everything and yet you harmed me
I forgave you because I loved you and therefore made excuses for you
But once my excuses started falling upon the deaf and dead
I felt it right to leave your chambers for more than just one night

I heard the words of a spoken word poet and fell in love
And the more I wrote like she, the more I realized what you did to me

I realized that your words were cold and your fists were hard
The grabbing of my side was a mear warning I did not listen to.
Unintentionally, I was right in saying you would be the death of me,
But I certainly said it in the wrong context.

You were my abuser.
You gave me chocolates and flowers and teddy bears to keep me happy and smiling
To keep me unaware of your manipulation and beatings of words to my skull

You may not have hit me,
But You might as well have
Because emotional and verbal violence, is abuse as well

Now let's contemplate.
Almost two years I put up with you but it was maybe a year that you had acted strangely.

Yet I stayed
Because of you put a frog into boiling water it will jump out
Yet if you put a frog in warm water and slowly turn up the heat,
It will stay until it dies.

That was our. And every other abusive relationship darling.
You were kind and caring and loved me much
I trusted you and that was my end
For I'm sure if I stayed like I wanted to,
Id be the frog in boiling water

But I'm not,
I'm a survivor
I'm a free woman
I'll always remember you, trust me I will
I'll remember a monster and then my friend
Because your last words to me left lasting impressions
"You were wrong to leave me"
No, darling
I was wrong in not leaving sooner.

It's the way she holds her head when you talk
The way her eyes light up when she sees a dog
The way her hair frizzes around her head like a halo
The way her body will melt into you when you hold her
She's beautiful

It's the way she talks to the voices in her head
The way she walks
The way she talks
The way she takes care of you

It's the way she holds you when you've had a long day
Or how soothing her voice is when your demons come to play

She's beautiful
But you never told her.

Never have I known three humans
That believe as deeply as I
Until one day I stepped inside
And found a world anew.

These three women are strong within their faith
And can push me along the lines
Between life, death, and treading upon
the other world and beyond

If flowers can grow back even after they've been stepped on,
I can get better, even after you.
If flowers can grow back even after a monsoon,
I can get along without you.
If flowers can grow back even after poison,
I can remove your toxins.
If flowers can grow back even after weeds take over,
I can remove you and make myself better.
I am a flower.
You were a ****.
He is my gardener.
And now I am green.

Shes a glass of whiskey and coke
Shes a hit with a definite choke
Shes an untamed wildflower in May
Shes a destined part of the day
Weather you see her or not shes most certainly there
From those torn up jeans to that fiery hair
Shes most likely to turn up everywhere
With a face like hers she can blend with the crowd
But when its time for her to stand out
****
She can make a room stare.
Shes a magician with an umexplainable act
Shes the leader of a suicide pact
When she says jump most ask how high
And i guess thats what shes trying to define
With the envy of others on her side
All she tries now is to hide
But she cant quite make it
Can you see why
Shes a poet with sparkles in her eyes
So any man will meet their demise
Just to convince her shes worth their time.

Look at the stars,
Do you see how they shine?
Darling, they'd shine even brighter,
If only you were mine.

I've finally come to terms with our parting.
It was sad and emotionally scarring.
But I've finally been able to move you out of my head.
So I can, finally, be at peace in his bed.

I think my problem arises from a chaotic childhood.
No, I'm not saying it was traumatic but
I learned at a young age that I didn't belong anywhere
And I think the problem with my relationships today
Is that I felt that being lonely so long,
And finding someone like him
who wanted me dearly
And wants me still
instilled in me a will to never be alone again.
But it seems, it comes all too natural to me.
My problem is that I want to be with someone.
I want to belong to someone.
I want to be the person that someone comes home to...
Maybe that's just my fatal flaw?
That being so alone even in a house I used to call home
No four walls feel quite right
No pair of arms reach the core of me
I guess I've made a bed and begun to live
In the halfway house of sin
Making my way to strangers beds to see which one will be strong enough to wed
But sadly that's not the point of one-night stands.
That once the deed is done we follow the path of the walk of shame
Carrying our heels and dragging our dignity down a road to what we supposedly call home.
Not all the girls along the road are hoes some are simply misguided fools.
Such as I, when I was kicked from a bed after laying by his side
I had a little too much to drink and stumbled my way home, to face the mirror which hung on my door like a veil
To face a friend with a past like mine
To tell her all just to be told I was an idiot.
It's just my flaw
That I fall for words instead of actions it will surely be my fall
For no amount of painted skin or blanketed lies will stop me from adopting another vice to add to my collection.
Drugs, alcohol, cigarettes and *** my god I've become such a mess.
The lonely girls are always easy targets.
You bribe them with drinking or drugs and a promise of a passion filled kiss to soothe the raging monster inside them,
Now you have them at your mercy.
Eventually, they go numb and forget that they are lonely.
They forget that they want to belong to someone
That they want to create a home for someone
And the four walls of different rooms become sanctuary maybe a night or two,
As this turned nomadic soul turns to her vices
And waits for the one night stand that tells her to stay

It's okay, really it is.

How can I expect you to save the little girl I am?

I can't expect you to drop everything for me.
My life's not that big of a travesty.

Why does she sit with tears in her eyes, when the only thing she can think of to cry about is that the person she wants, and they are not good for her?

Oh but she is a beautiful girl addicted to some really ugly things.
That cigarette smoke is running through her veins, that alcohol trip is inside her brain, her heart can't race and she can't keep up with your pace.

She'll slow a while and contemplate how her life has become such ruin.

And I bet you'll sit there wondering how crazy she is, and how she got there.
But the truth is, she isnt,
Because she's just a perfectly flawed human.

Cry a river and
No-one will ever bother
To swim in its depth.

Do you even know how hard it was for me?
To put away the liquor and pipes
For the love of Christ I can't even begin to tell you how awful it was before you.
I can't even begin to tell you how many nights I stumbled home.
How many mornings I woke up asking what happened the night before.
How many nights my roommate asked how ****** up I was as I laughed and told her how badly I wanted cookies.

Now I'm not saying **** ****** me up that bad
But I may have taken the things that numb me a little too far:
Drinking till I can't remember,
Smoking until my frowns are smiles,
Puffing on cigarettes until I cough up a lung.
What doesn't **** me makes me stronger, right?

I couldn't continue my preaching higher than cloud nine or drunker than a man with nothing left to lose.
But for some unknown reason you gave me the courage to quit the liquor.
And Im glad you stopped me, otherwise the next year was gonna be brutal because AA is for quitters and momma never raised a quitter.

I may not have alcohol.
I may not have Mary Jane
But I do have you.
So you wanna go smoke a joe?

I'll lay my soul on your tombstone

Sorry I missed the funeral darling but
I couldn't quite handle seeing you so bare in your casket

A sight so painful like the cuts I made on my wrists

Those pearls gracing your neck still pale in comparison to your beauty

Now that you're gone there's not much else to say
My days are a little more grey as every thought if you turns my head

Maybe you'll walk through the door undead
Killing my eyes with that bright laugh and smile
But it's alright I guess

I'll keep your memory just below my surface
Living in your memory using all my favorite vices

I smoke those herbs to numb it all
Bowls after bowls token up like Thomas the engine
Trying to get as high as possible to laugh so hard my tears stop being from sadness and start being from joy

I drink this patrone to forget it all
Feeling the burn of my favorite whiskey hitting my throat and slurring words a bit
Speaking so vague not even I know what I'm saying.

But it doesn't help

You're overloading my system every once in a while
With those eyes as pale blue as the sky on the last day we met

Never opening again, **** that hurts my soul

My dear it may have been four short years but
It all feels like yesterday I got that phone call

Telling me you're fighting for your breath
Telling me you might not make it
Telling me it's a time for prayer
Telling me you've been killed

But here's the deal
I've never been the spiritual type
The first thought that comes to mind when I go in road trips isn't to pray for safety
And I'm not sure why

Maybe because I prayed more in my life in the two hours between those phone calls telling me you've been hit, and when you died

Maybe because when I needed Him the most he didn't come to my rescue like everyone said he would

When I was staring at white walls and florescent bulbs waiting for the next meal
I would reject because I wanted to be hanging from a rope and noone should try to stop me

When I prayed to Him about wanting to take my own life he turned his back on me
It was as if it was meant to be

But then I sat staring at four white walls lying on a bed of nails contemplating how I made it there

Then I think about you
21 was to young to be murdered.
16 was to young to contemplate suicide.

I guess my point has been lost in traslation

But just to bring this to a close it's that your departure did more than **** you
It killed my faith
It killed my self worth
It killed me

But maybe it happened to bring me here.

You know I always have to put this positive twist here somewhere

I've settled in the university of my dreams with friends I couldn't have thought better of myself.

I've started blossoming In my poetry
Spittin these words straight from my notepad where four years ago noone would be able to stare at me this long without my anxiety destroying me inside and out

My dear, if you were still here
I don't know where I'd be today
Maybe I would have found some different passion
But I think I'm happier where I am
Then where I would have been
Had you never been taken from me

He checked my wrists and thighs
He checked my stomach and my sides
He checked and said "Let me see if you've been cutting again"

He gave no warning.
No sign that he was going to do this in the last hour that I faced him.
He looked me up and down, eyes more serious than I've ever seen
I couldn't help but feel embarrassed that I let him down once before
I was embarrassed I relapsed and he was there to see me unravel.

"I've been good"
"I've been good"
"I've been good"
I felt like a child, repeating the sentence over and over
Our friends continuously asking what I meant and he simply says
"It's nothing."
But in his eyes I could see
To him it meant everything

So he checked
He checked my wrists and thighs
He checked my stomach and my sides
He hugged me tight and whispered softly
*"Please stay good, I love you to much to lose you like that."

I'm not a poet
I shouldn't claim the like
Because a poet would know more
About struggle and strife
While I myself lay my head on a bed
Some poets stay up all night
Driving home their nails
Into the coffin of conviction
How dare I say I'm impaled.
While others wrote beautifully on social issues or on love
I sit and stare at the wall
I churn out writings on things such as white struggles and heartache
I'll write about the same boy over and over again with a different ad lib.
I'll write about voices in minds I can't reach or begin to comprehend
So tell me how I'm a poet, again?
Because I can write a line and hit an enter key
I somehow think I'm a cool *** thing.
Nah man, I'm not a poet
I'm a wannabe

My body is not my own.
My body belongs to my mother.
Because every time I got a new tattoo I would ask if she likes it.
And if course, she would say no
And I would be upset because I actually liked it.
But now I have snakebites.
Two small holes below my lower lip
And I'm absolutely terrified
Of her finding out.

I'm starting to miss the way you talked to me.
It wasn't totally obsessive or anything,
But you'd read my poetry and say it's fantastic.
No, that wasn't the word you'd use.
You'd say I was brilliant.

I'm starting to miss how you would sing to me.
It's not that you had the best singing voice but,
You tried hard for me and I liked that.

I'm starting to miss the way you would make fun of my bookshelf,
Because it's almost fallen on me many times from the weight of my collection.

And as I'm writing this poem I'm staring out my bedroom window.
Staring at the sky and hoping someday you'll get lonely and knock softly at the door.

Baby,
I don't know what's come over me
Suddenly all my thoughts point to you and
Maybe it's just that I miss the way you'd tickle my side while I'm reading on the couch
And you'd proclaime to the world "you're such a little nerd, I love you so much."

What happened to that?
What happened to all those late night calls or early morning messages?
What happened to "sleep well my beautiful baby, I'll see you in your dreams"?
How did it evolve into "okay bye"?

I refuse to say I miss you,
Because it's not true.

I'm sorry. I'm a terrible liar.

I don't miss you so much that I miss the memories.

I'm sorry, I'm lying again.

I don't miss the way you'd get angry at me for not talking to you when I'm in the middle of class.

I don't miss the way you'd yell at me just because I wouldn't come home one weekend because I needed to focus.

I don't miss how you treated me.

But what I do miss,
Is the way I could feel your body shiver when I kissed your cheek.
The way I fit so perfectly on your side
Or
The way your eyes sparkled when you said you loved me for the first time

I guess what I'm trying to say is I loved US together,
And I miss it.
But no, my darling,
I don't miss you.

You know I'm lying, don't you?

But my real question after all if this,
And after I say I don't miss you I guess it's a pointless question to ask,

But after all we've been through you know I can't lie to you to save my life
As you can see
Clearly I do miss you

But I was just wondering,
And don't make fun of a girl whos weak in the knees for you.
Do you miss me too?

We look up at the stars and think they're beautiful
But the tragic truth is that most of the stars in the sky are already dead
I guess that's why we leave flowers on headstones
Because somewhere in our history, death has become beautiful

Daddy can't you see just how bad you're hurting me
I've done what I can and poured out my heart
Trashed my mother and it tore us apart

Daddy can't you see just how much bad you've caused
For it know not of love and I can't see when it does
You've taught me a lesson that can't be unlearned

Daddy can't you see
How your actions in our time of being
Have tortured me

Well, we had a good run
And alls fun and games until someone falls
But what you dont realize is that you made me fall for you
And thats not the kind of love i wanted for myself

Because if one FALLS one can GET BACK UP
so if I have FALLEN in love with you chances are I'll just STAND back up and keep walking.

So gather your things, my darling
And I'll help you out the door
And the last few words I'll speak to you will be
"I don't love you anymore"

Because I'm done falling and I just wish to stand
I'm kneeling now and they're giving me their hand
They're helping me up instead of bringing me down
And now I'll say goodbye
Because this is the last time you'll see me cry

I have always hoped that you wouldnt get close enough
To catch the sharp ends of my personality
But with each slice to your ego
And every tear to your flesh
You seemed to tear me too
And when we got close enough
To inspect each others wounds
I looked into your eyes and saw my whole life flash
And I retracted my claws and hugged you tight
I never wanna let go

My brain has been running wild as I live in the holes in my heart.
My brain wanders and loses track of everything
And my heart just shakes and rattles against the walls of my lungs
My skin sweats and my bones shiver
My brain is worried about everything except my heart
Because right now it's so broken the my brain doesn't know how to approach it

We're all addicted to something,
That takes the pain away.
I'm addicted to cigarettes,
And dancing in the rain.
The cigarette will numb my brain,
And the rain will numb my blood.
So when I cut my skin wide open,
I don't feel a single one.