She bleeds silently
Into a bath of melancholy tears.
Exoneration is but a mere hope,
As she floats to the darkest depths
Of her own affliction.
She wilts as the smooth surface
Of her satin skin is punctured
By the briars of her thoughts.
Why? How?
It was only a kiss.
A brief, but fatal kiss.

Let me post a selfie
how's my hair
makeup
angle
filter
how do I look
did I get likes yet?
Let me post a status
one about how much I love my besties
another on how I learned a new lesson
now here's a photo of my breakfast
I have to comment
like
poke
post new updates
every day
becuase that's just what you do nowadays,
that's just how it goes
because we're all so afraid
if we don't keep posting
if we don't get those likes
and invites
and pokes
and fill up our messages
and notifications,
that we're going to be forgotten.
That if we don't solidify our presence
on social media
then we don't have a presence at all.
We spend so much time
trying to make other people
think we exist,
that we never end up existing at all,
not really.
We don't need all these people
and confirmations
to tell us we exist.
we already do.
If only it weren't so easy to forget that.

load your bullets
in the firing chamber
and they'll fly
from your lips,
ricochet and lodge
past the scarce armor
of my ribcage
into this glass heart of mine
     let my insecurities bleed out
                         don't staunch the flow

pierce my skin
with the shards of my heart
end my misery,
squeeze the trigger
with practiced ease
     breathe in,
          breathe out
               breathe in,
                    breathe out

                             *(you'll find another victim
                              downrange of you)