sometimes for a minute I forget that I don't exist In your mind
you're the one that keeps me breathing when I'm pushed into the ocean
and yet you don't even realize that you're the air in my lungs when I
struggle to move through the dark waters
but that's okay because I would rather have you hold me up and not know it
than not have you there to keep me from drowning

The moon showed me exactly what was inside of your soul
And I wondered if the stars showed you what was in mine,
if you could see me as I shattered, as I exploded into nothing but star
dust.
And then you asked me if it was alright if you
came closer, and fixed me, and I said- yes, just don't hurt me,
and you didn't. Piece by piece, you put me
together,
and your hands bled onto my skin, and we mixed together
as skin and breath,
because you understood me, you had once upon a shadow been
where
I
stood. At the ledge, almost falling
And now you were there again to rescue me.

you held me that night at the bridge
when all I wanted to do was fall,slowly, but not for you
i'd already fallen for you, and I didn't realize you cared.
but then you jumped out of the shadows,
grabbed my wrists, looked me in the eyes
and told me that I was worth more than what I was doing
as you pulled me away from the bridge you reminded
me that I was beautiful (you reminded me of this
many times with your musical voice, I just forget
each time because you've put me together so many times)

I thought it was funny, how you could save me but i couldn't help
You, i found it comical that maybe I hadn't even
said my first words or
Walked towards the light,
when you were struggling like i was
Now, and when my laughter broke the humid night air,
You were confused, so i laughed harder and pointed at the ledge
That you pulled me back from and said
'That's why i wanted to fall- because you keep saving
Me, and i cannot save you, you might not need saving but i am
Weak, worthless, useless, i am done'
And i sprinted towards oblivion but you still held me and
No matter how many times i screamed and hit you
You would not let go.

you amaze me that way.
why would you hold someone so broken
that she wants to drop off the end of oblivion
never to be seen again by anyone breathing
(or anyone who has ever breathed, if I had gotten my way)
you held me so tight that the only person I could harm
was you
why would you do that? why would you
let me hurt you just so I could not hurt myself
so I could not rip myself into millions of pieces
you've pulled me back from the edge of the world
where I would've fallen if you hadn't pulled me back
with your gentle hands dragging me away from where I stood
grabbing my arms and keeping me there
so instead of falling off the bridge I fell for you.

I slid to the ground, and your arms
Were
Still
Around
Me,
and your breath still held because you cared
and you wanted me to be alright,
or at least alive
and thanks to you,
I was.

Stop trying to remember his scent, he smelled like summer and reminds you of the time he made you laugh so hard, you snorted out milk on that dead, hazy day.

2. Don't waste your day trying to decipher what colour his eyes were, it'll only remind you of the galaxies and constellations that you once saw in his eyes

3. Stop trying to retrace the shape of his mouth in the middle of the night, you'll choke on your tongue trying to taste the mint he devoured seconds before pulling you in for a kiss

4. Stop reliving the times you clasped hands together, the glass plate will fall off your trembling hands.

5. Burn this list, admit that the galaxies and constellations shining in his eyes were wilted, the one in yours are bursting with fire. Remember on the dead, hazy day his laugh sounded like nails running down a chalkboard. Remember when you kissed, the weeds growing from his mouth entangled the roses blooming in yours.

Realize that one day, another boy is going to come and plant daisies where he left behind thorns.

flower petals are falling from my eyes
they pool around my feet
and
ice cream drips from my fingertips
it pools around my feet
and
waves crash all around me
they pool around my feet
and
i think i'm drowning

I'm constantly at war with myself,
and it's always a matter of life and death.

I doodled butterflies on my arms, and pretended
they could fly into my veins, and they were named after
celebrities and friends and family, no not family
I let my butterflies
live, and they lived real lives while I,
I lived a life already dead i n s i d e
and I let the butterflies soar back onto my skin
after every shower scared them away.
I was a flower and they were perched on me,
they were pollinating my strength with kind words
and you're going to be okay
okay
because we love you
you're our flower and we are your butterflies
And you will be okay. So thank you,
Dear butterflies,
thank you for living.


r.c.

my mother says her

vision is fuzzy
it is 
difficult to move 

she takes more naps 

than she used to 

it seems as i

grow up she 

grows down 

disintegrates 

before me so 

slowly it takes a while to 

notice i am becoming 

the parent as she 

becomes the baby

The swingsets,
the relief from the world's hypocrisy,
the only place I can feel as if I am a bird in the sky,
the bird that flies it's own pace,
acknowledging it's goal, but keeping it's distance.

The swingsets,
the make me know how it feels to die,
how it feels to go to Heaven,
and how it feels to fall off and go to Hell,
the contrast between the igneous, dry land,
and the subzero, wet heaven,
if I even believed in that ****.

The swingsets,
they set me free,
from how the people came to abhor me,
or how they came to have intimacy of me,
in reality,I only like those who present a medium of their standards,
for I am not perfect enough for those,
who try to exterminate me,
for those slaughter my wall I had constructed,
like the Roman's had done to Rome,
so carefully, and in coordination,
so no one would hate me.

The swingsets,
to make my ill intentions,
and my good will fade,
so I will both realize and reject the idea,
the abstraction,
the truth,
of the concept of nothingness,
nullity,
void,
because I want to be isolated,
but I do not want to be or see nothing,
so please world, continue to grow,
and
at least
leave me a swingset
for all
of my sins,
and virtue.

The swingsets,
where every child has grown up,
where every adolescent has matured,
where every adult felt nostalgic,
for they shall live on in existence.

The          ,
it has continued.