You'll always be first
Tied together forever
What a mess we've made.


Running from the cops
I ****** you to get even
Nothing more than that.

This will be our last
The end to our playground love
I try to forget

Shotgunning your vape
I tried to get to know you
You didn't let me

I don't even know
what your actual name is
but you made me ***.

For such a big truck
and all that talk that you talk
you didn't last long

I took a xanax
And your face looked just like his
And then you were done

I hope this isn't
the only haiku for you.
I kind of like you.

We finally ******
then someone else came along
to mess it all up.

Back where we started
I thought things were said and done
Never say never

dreams of drowning
but not in water, necessarily
locked in rooms that look familiar
though not recognizable
locked doorknobs with missing locks
and my name being called from the other side
repeating mundane tasks
to the point of insanity
"what's the point of everything?"
dreams of you hurting people in front of me
and while i watch, i say,
"it's okay. i understand."

It's basically a game. You get in, you get what you want, you get the hell out. Make small talk with the employees if it makes you feel more comfortable, because the key is to blend in. Don't look suspicious. Cool, calm, and collected. If you can do that, you're basically half way there.
The other half is justifying it. But you're young, you're poor, you're pretty, and for God's sake, you're ******* entitled to it, right?

The most important thing to remember afterwards is to not get attached.
Because you stole it, you didn't work for it. You took what wasn't yours and the universe has every right to take it back. And of course, there is Karma, the ***** that caught it all on tape

So steal it. Steal the top and the cute high heels and the shiny ring and the poor boy's heart.
But don't think for a second that it'll stick around.

A year ago I went on my first date with someone new.
It started late
and ended with the cops knocking on the car window.
We were caught naked and ashamed.

Weeks later
I was back to my old habits, former lover
but this time the cops weren't there to
break it up.

Sometimes I think it was a sign.
Or maybe I had enough to be
ashamed of.

All I have left in me
are words that have been
pouring out of my wounds
like blood.

A little reminder.
A punch in the gut.
A sting in the heart.
A taste in the mouth.

The smell of iron.
Scarlett stains
on my new lace underwear
that were stolen to
cover up the truth.

Blood shot eyes
with bags hanging so
gracefully underneath.

Tired from sleep
and trying not to cry
tears that show
that bright red blood.

little scars and holes to show off
look at where i hurt
i let a stranger poke a needle through my skin
and now i have this piece of jewelry
look at where i bled
where blood came out and ink went in
and now i have an infinity tribal symbol on my wrist

socially acceptable pain
as opposed to crying in public
or screaming at the dentist's office
or wanting to give up and jump

look at these scars, aren't they pretty?
each one has a deeper meaning
ask me about it
or has a story
tell me about it
or something

i went through all that pain and
had nothing to show for it
let me write out my scars and tell my stories

left me trapped in a run down,
******* town gasping for
some fresh air,
yearning for change,
begging for forgiveness.

the red nyquil stains on the wall are
almost funny now that
you mention it. no i won't
help you clean them up.

should have known better
should have known better
should have known better
than to stay back with you

dancing with the devil left me waking
up from a slumber i sometimes
wish i hadn't awoken from.

it's
all
in
your
head
wake
up
now
you're
dead

at least what i thought,
when i was dancing with the devil.

now i know better
now i know better
now i know better
than to stay here with you

write out your stream of consciousness, your every thought. explicitly and unedited with every little detail. don't scratch anything out, don't think twice. read it, reread it, read it out loud and feel embarrassed or ashamed. resist the urge to tear it up and forget it ever happened. save it for another day. hide it where no one else can find it because that's the part of you no one deserves to see.
2. take off all of your clothes and stand in front of a mirror. become aware of every detail, every mole, freckle, birthmark. trace every curve and crevice. pinch and poke and drag your fingers along while you follow the trail of sensations. look at yourself again. notice the little flaws. the crooked part of your smile, the unevenness of your skin, the way your face is not perfectly symmetrical. look in the mirror and see what you don't want to see. embrace yourself.
3. turn off every electronic device, every distraction from the world or connection to the world. lay in bed. wrap yourself up in blankets. focus on your breathing. don't think about anything else. you can almost do it. clear your mind. but the monsters always find a way. lean on them. don't fight the nightmares. find comfort in it, somehow, because what other way is there.
4. go for a run and watch the world changing in front of you. look at the sky. are there any clouds? are there any stars? feel the impact of the ground hitting your feet. feel your weight, your every pound and gravity pushing you down. feel your lightness when the breeze hits and you think you're going to wither away. why are you running? what are you running from? don't look back.
5. fall in love with the wrong person and follow them. then what.
6. get in your car and fill up your tank and find a highway and drive. put on some music and sing the wrong lyrics and sing them loud. turn off the music and listen to all the people in the world trying to be somewhere else.
7. pack up everything in a suitcase. everything is subjective. leave behind anything you don't want in this new life. walk around in circles. think about leaving think about starting over think about a clean slate. then stop and look at where you are and unpack your things and put them back where they belong.

On black friday I stole a lot of clothes to feel better about how empty I felt. I didn’t feel like I had enough to be thankful for, so I took action.

On black friday I wore all black and put my hair up to show my face. My mom said to walk proud. I couldn’t even look you in the eye and I left early.

On black friday I got drunk off tequila shots and danced until my feet hurt. I hadn’t done this is months. I drank until my senses started numbing. I mistook this for happiness and woke up feeling empty.

my heart pounded like
how the walls were pulsing along
to the beat, beat, beat.

remember how you swooned me
into your room and into your bed?
i almost gave in right
there and then.
then where would that night have gone?

but i wanted to dance, with
the others - who knows who.
i had thoughts of the stars and of a
place that was not present, somewhere,
anywhere but there.

remember when you grabbed
my wrists so we could tango?
but i was clumsy with my two left
feet that left us
falling over
making a mess
banging the walls
hitting our heads.

what have i done?
i did it again.
dancing with the devil
nearly left me dead.

I took a tab of acid once hoping I would see the world.
I live in a ******* dream.
It woke me up, and I saw reality.
It was a nightmare.
A slap in the face, really.

You were a monster
I was fighting and fighting
I thought I was dying
I thought I did it to myself.

I keep thinking if I leave
Maybe I have a chance of happiness
as if
starting over will solve my problems
but what if it doesn’t?

Iced in for three days straight
and you are my solution
you are my salvation
if I keep telling myself
it’s because I’m bored
maybe it will turn into the truth.

When it comes down to it
I was alone
in the waiting room
in the dark room
in the post procedure room
alone
and that’s how I’ll get over this.

sometimes i want to be healthy
so i can be happy
and laugh
and talk to people
without thinking
too much

sometimes i don't
so i can **** up
and live
in this world
between living and
dying

if i am healthy
will i still have things to
write about?
will i still be
interesting?

and if i am not
maybe i will create something
beautiful

instead of trying
and failing
and trying
and failing
to make myself
beautiful

my heart rate was as as fast as a heart attack. is that how you explain it? something like that. it could have been serious. i don't know.
i wonder what is going on in there. should i be worried? i get pains from hearing your name and my heart races when i hear your voice so fast i can't tell if it's because i'm nervous or angry i don't know anymore. i only know that every ache and pain i associate with you. i get stomach aches and head aches and eye sores and i think of you.

i remember when
i used to listen to your pulse with
my ear on your chest or my finger on your wrist.
i only thought i did this to you, but i guess
i wouldn't know. did you used to check if i was real? then
i would feel my pulse to see if we were in sync. but
i could never tell.

i remember testing to see if
i could make your heart race. if it sped up when
i said 'i love you'
or something, but
i could never tell.
i wonder what is going on in there. how broken are we, really?

your face tasted like
cereal after a long day
of doing nothing

we were so silly
we laughed at nothing but the
sounds of belly aches

i memorized all
your freckles, traced all your veins
for the test of time

when you told me you
loved me, were you saying it
so you'd believe it?

how are we so far
from loving each other by
becoming so close?

If you look at my house from the outside, it is pink
with nice big windows
and a nice big tree out in front.

But the foundation is slightly off,
there are cracks in the walls.
If you look close enough
you can see it under all of that
pretty grey paint.

The living rooms are open
with the kitchen connecting.
So open that every sound and
every movement echoes.
Sometimes I can't tell if my mom
is yelling or not.

Most of the stuff from my room is
packed away into boxes like the memories
that came along with them.
But if you look close enough
you can see

The time you slept over and
the time we made a fort.
The first time we made love
and the first time you broke my heart.

No matter how many times
I change my sheets
I paint my walls
I rearrange my furniture
it's still there like the
broken foundation under my house.