you were named after a poet,
and she was named after a godless.
so when your perfectly crafted
words broke her heart,
the world exploded
into flames and you had
no water to drown them out
(so you drowned in flames,
and she drowned in her tears
as you burned quicker than souls
burn in hell.)

well if you can't handle me at my best
(with my hair ******* around me and my eyes filling up the sky)
than I know for sure you won't be able to
hold me at my worst
(with my hair untied and loose, falling as snakes, and my eyes burning up your soul)
and perhaps the clouds and the fog are not the same thing at all.
earthworms are not caterpillars,
no matter how hard they try.
and perhaps that is our relationship.
it will never be Ariel and prince Eric,
but instead it is Ursula and prince Eric,
and I am Ursula.
I have the power to destroy you but
all I want to do is hold your heart in my hand
and feel your lips against mine.
but we both know how that ends,
with you falling into the arms of the perfect girl
when I'm just a monster floating to the deep.
and when I see you next,
you had better run away from me
because I'll be at my worst with my hair falling like
snakes and my eyes burning your soul
(with the pain fueling the fire and my eyes
aching with tears that I've discarded.)

I felt the stars
but all they felt like your skin.

once you tried to tell me what a great feeling it was to dance with someone
to press your body against a girls and sway to your favorite song
staring into her eyes (which looked like the stars apparently)
but then you asked me what it felt like to dance with a boy, in a girl's mind.
and I laughed at you. I laughed because you assumed that I had danced with
a boy. You didn't understand that
(why didn't you understand that? with the combination of my face and
my heart it's given that I had never even been noticed)
so you vowed to change that
now I was the one that didn't understand that.
I assumed you would get one of your obnoxious guy friends to ask me to dance,
just so I could feel good about myself (that wouldn't have helped, because
they would've laughed the whole time)

you took my hands and pulled me onto the floor
(it was tile or something, I didn't know exactly, but I did know
the exact patterns that were under us because I spent
most of my time staring down while we danced)
I asked you why you were dancing with
a rain cloud, and you said you wanted to be my sunshine,
and together we would make a rainbow
and I think the song said something like 'it never rains when I'm
in your arms', and the two of us laughed so loud
the whole school (or at least those of us who danced)
looked at us, and I saw jealous girls pointing and staring,
and to make it even better, you lowered your lips to mine,
not kissing me, but they didn't know that, you said
'I would kiss you, but I don't want to rush things'
and I said nothing, and the song was over, and I went back to my friends

at the next song I caught you staring at me
and my friends pointed to you but I shoved their hands away
and my skin turned as red as the rose you threw at me
when our seventh grade play was over, and we
stood side by side playing the duet, playing the happy couple holding hands
except then it was called "play" for a reason
it was pretend, and it didn't mean anything when our lips almost touched
and now it meant more than anything.
(it meant more than that time in eigth grade when you handed me a valentine,
and laughed, so I thought it was a joke)
perhaps a boy really did like me, just this once, and perhaps,
(based on the way you gently held me over the tiled floor and danced with
me like you cared)
perhaps that boy was you.

People told me you were a smoker-
nothing but trouble,
and that you were left overs
from girls who had left because they were
scared
I didn't listen, I just wanted to kiss
away the nicotine, I got withdrawls without
being addicted, and our lips never met
because I kept shoving you away,
you kept reaching for the skin under my
'Fall Out Boy' t-shirt
And you told me that I made you hot,
and I just giggled and said you didn't
need me, you were the hottest guy I had ever seen
but I knew what you meant,
I could feel the desire on your breath
against my neck

you took me to a concert
with the music blaring in my ears, I could
barely hear what you said but I could see
the way your eyes moved and the way that my heart started to sink
when our eyes met
so our sweaty bodies pressed against eachother in time to the music
and I laughed when you sang those songs about love and heartbreak
staring at me, because I didn't realize (I never realized)
that I meant that much to you
(I thought it was always a joke, the way you needed me. I didn't
understand that the music spoke to you about me)

I asked you, still wearing the t-shirt (much to your dismay)
which Fall Out Boy song
could be ours, and as you stared
at the anchor (I asked you to lift your eyes but you wouldn't)
you chose Alone Together, or
was it The Phoenix, I couldn't remember,
but you said I was your phoenix,
and I laughed and compared you to Albus Dumbledore,
but inside I wasn't laughing, because there was
fiery desire in your finger tips,
and I wondered if I really would burst into flames
(or tears, but either way, would I come back to life?)
But I thought it was the coolest thing
that you thought I was **** (like Finn said to Rachel during their
prom king and queen dance)

but inside I stared at you the same way
watching my heart slowly crack because I was never as desirable
as pretty as she could be.
you deserved to be with somone like her,
someone who's body fits perfectly into yours
who would fit right into a magazine photoshoot right beside you
while I took the photographs of the perfect couple..
I put on my best clothes and dressed up hoping to look like sleeping beauty to you
but you laughed at me and asked why I looked so fancy
we were only watching Peter Pan, like we did every friday
(and I was Tinkerbell, because you were too blinded by someone else
to see me)

I remember that I asked you, on a Wednesday
(you pointed out my bracelet and told me it was **** Day,
and winked, and I shuddered inwardly)
why you left the last girl-
and you said because she was a princess
and I was a queen,
and I laughed and threw my arms around your neck
and we kissed and I tasted nicotine, your hands were cold
against my neck.
That was it. That was my wake up call.
I was nothing but a body to you,
my chest and rear were big,
larger than most,
so I shoved you away again, and then turned on my heel,
and said 'you are my ashes, and I have risen out of you',
and then I was gone on my Phoenix Wings.
But that was not the end of it,
because then I visited her, your ex,
and I told her what happened, and let myself cry a little,
and the two of us watched Peter Pan,
and I made a friend, because we had both dated Captain Hook.

Some nights I can't close my eyes without
seeing everything I feared,
feeling every horrible thing
(every horrible thing, every horrible thing ever)
and I just stare at the ceiling, imagining stars
where our names were written

we carved our names into a tree as well as the stars
we tried to be like the movies, and in a way,
it was even better than the movies
but I can still remember the feel of your lips against
mine as I stare up at that ceiling and wish
I could feel the way your body moves again,
just one more time to say goodbye
to the way you felt.

Some nights I look up at the real stars,
where my dreams lay,
and on the heels of my bare feet (the grass is cool, and keeps my raging fever from
growing to the size of the sky)
and I wonder if you're somewhere
looking up at them too,
and if the moonlight is kissing your lips as I once did
but I do not miss you, because after a while,
the strength drained out of us, and we were only met
at the lips, and never eye to eye

when I first met you, I first noticed your eyes.
that's why it was so hard when we never met eye to eye anymore
your eyes shone out in the darkness I walked in
and I knew that I had to have you near me.
you must've thought the same thing because you never
let go of me until we both realized that it was over,
that we would be stuck looking up at the sky
with a telescope of feelings,
wanting the way our eyes first met back.

but it wouldn't happen,
so I've chosen to pretend that,
like our love,
the stars have burned out.
its over.

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.

is it so bad?
to take away my happiness for the thought of your smile
I know you're worth more than me in every breath you take
and even though all your wrongs will never make a right
there's always hope for you
there's never hope for me.
so how do I navigate myself through the space between you and me
through murky things built up, hiding in the corners.
and the air is so thick that I need to borrow your grandfather's oxygen mask to fit through the cracks between you and I.
I wish I didn't have to venture there anymore
8 months of things start to build up
and sometimes I fear for my sanity if I should have to venture in there one more time
but if I am to save you, I must go in and never come out
i must carve your words into my skin so I remember
why I am in that place of insanity when you're grinning
and I'm sobbing from the fact that you
will never love me
I will continue to ask myself questions no one should ask
"who am I?why am I here? where am I?"
and perhaps I will have to start marking my skin again
(I will try very hard but soon my mind will pass out and I will have no choice if I wish to remember anything, ever)
so I must fight for you, my dear
(i will start making you happy now, starting with that last line.
you'll have so much fun showing that off and laughing with your comrades in arms)
i must make you happy
i must make everyone happy
because I am the glue that stretches across planets
but is never noticed because
who would notice the glue when the artwork it holds together
is the most beautiful thing in the galaxies
and the glue only makes it possible for the artwork
to breathe in all of the pollution we've caused.

it would be exquisite to breathe in your air at this moment, but you're buried underground and I am the only one breathing.

you and me both know that sometimes when something's beautiful
you want to touch it, even if you start to burn up
the beauty of that if precious above everything
(remember that time I wanted to kiss you in the rain?
it's like that.)
people never understand me
and I think that's part of the reason
I'm almost too afraid of touching the beautiful thing
for the fear of the beautiful thing being disgusted
by the shade of my eyes as they look at something
so wonderful
it's like smiling when you're sad
why would you smile to hide your feelings?
your feelings are your everything and yet
no one wants to share them with the world
I don't either, but I want to hear everyone's feelings
I want to hold them and tell them that just because
their feelings are lying, discarded on the floor,
doesn't mean that they're like spilled paint
that dries on the art room floor until years later
the janitor ventures in and frees
those hopes and dreams that died right there, on the floor.
I don't want to be spilled paint,
even though I'm already there
the only reason the artist keeps me around is too
comfort those aching paintbrushes and to
make sure they keep themselves neat and orderly.
You can't have paintbrushes having breakdowns when you're an artist, can you?
only paint can calm the paintbrush but why
would you make a paintbrush continue the same
miserable way if the paintbrushes only wanted
to paint in black and white
and I am a dark blue,
as dark as the ocean, but not like the ocean.
i want to be like the ocean.
too beautiful to touch, but touching everything.
how are you like the ocean?
I want to know how to be like the ocean
which has strength to go on everyday
breathing air into someone's lungs who hasn't breathed
by themselves in years.
everyone needs to breath sometimes,
so keep breathing darling
in and out is the constant cycle of the ocean,
and your breathing.
maybe it's not the ocean I want to be like,
i just want to be beautifully dangerous to hold you
at 5 am when you're breaking down and I don't know
what to do.
when you can't breathe those beautiful breathes
I want to be strong enough to pump the life back into you
I'll work through the night pushing you to live, for me
but then I'll wake up in the morning and realize
that you were never there in the first place.
just wisps of my wishful imagination floating through
the night sky.
anything can happen during the night air,
including finding a beautiful dangerous ocean to love.
perhaps one day I will wake up and
the beautiful ocean struggling to breathe won't be
a strike of imagination and you'll actually be there next to me.
but for now I'll be wasted paint on the floor.
if I can't have an ocean to love, I will be wasted paint
to help the paintbrushes paint a beautiful photograph of dangerous
oceans with beautiful, crashing waves.
I hope that they will all remember it when the world has
faded into dust and the only thing left is that
picture burning a whole in their minds and they, too
slowly fade into dust.

remember that time
I played your music instead of sleeping to keep
me from screaming at the flecks of dirt inside my mind
that remind me more of myself than anything
your music reassured me that I was alive and able to breathe
in and out, slowly, to the notes of the song
to the notes of the song that reminded me
that I was worth more than a boy
I'm worth more than a boy that uses me just
to have a laugh and tells me I'm hot when I am ice cold
and hiding in alaska because I don't belong in summer
when he's there looking for more snowflakes to burn
you shouldn't burn snowflakes,
all they want to do is fall quietly
they want to fall but they don't want anyone to see how
they fall or what they're falling on, becuase they
fall into oblivion before you can notice
well usually they do, but sometimes a boy will catch them and burn them
so he can laugh and make himself smile the only way he knows how to.
it's hard to make yourself smile if you're him and don't understand
the nature of snowflakes.
but your music will pull me down a road
i'll walk along it happy to forget about the tears I had just cried
and I'll stop at all the potholes admiring how they line the road
and all the grass growing in the little cracks
the yellow lines breaking them all up
did you know that roads are like arms?
they carry suffering with them and are
scarred in ways that is both natural and unnatural
they're essential to you and I's relationships
yes, our relationship is built up slowly by roads and arms
inching us closer and closer until we are too close to touch
and all I can do it look at your face and wish that
you'd noticed how the roads are like arms
and how they'd both made our relationship as real as it can be
(which is to say, as real as my heart or as real as your
gorgeous eyes that I can see as I stand this close)
I wish I wasn't this close, I wish I was close
enough to touch, to hold you in my arms and kiss away your
tears that are sure to be there sometimes, maybe
you could even hold me? you did say that
you were better than the boy who burns snowflakes
but that doesn't mean I am better than just a snowflake
that needs to make that boy happy before he does something
stupid to himself and I blame myself
perhaps it is best if I let him? it's only one snowflake
among one million, what do I matter compared to the life of one
boy who's life has gone terribly wrong and the only release he
has is burning snowflakes that aren't worthy of kisses?
besides
it's not like you would
really miss the way
the roads and arms built up the hope that
you could someday love me because
we both know that's not the case
because you're somewhere far away playing your guitar
and thinking of beautiful girls who resemble
the fairies and mermaids of disney movies
while I only resemble an ugly stepsister who
tries and tries to get the guy
but falls short because the
shoe is too short and she is too selfish
to even care that it belongs to another.
and you, you are peter pan
you are everyone's dream
why would you even look at me?
this writing is rambling
it means almost nothing but the words keep coming
and I can't stop them because I don't know what to say
so I say everything.
and I am a rose, but who likes roses?
roses have thorns, and they die
dandelions are beautiful, and they fly away
roses are nothing compared to all those beautiful dandelions that surround me.
now please if you remember anything about me,
from the way I breathe to the way my perfume smells
or the shade of my eye or the taste of my lips against yours,
remember that roads are like arms,
and that is what makes them beautiful enough to have held up our relationship against the tornado.
remember my love, that roads are like arms.

i want to write a poem
and list all the things that haven't broken
in your world
not everything has fallen apart into
those pieces you see all the time
not everything is all tears and blood and heartbreak
because there is so much more
hiding under the surface, that you
are trying not to see
why aren't you trying to see it?
all the smiles and laughter and words
that we shared
what about that time we stayed up until 3 am talking about
that book you like
the one I don't even like
or understand
but 3am is the time to listen to happy things
not the sad things about death and the tears you have
so stop thinking about that at 3am
spend those thoughts in broad daylight
because things will always look better
with drops of sunlight falling on them instead of
tear drops
stop dropping tears on the things that are
already sad enough
you have enough sadness so stop
focusing on the things that make you upset
and focus on the laughs you had
and the smiles you got from a walk through your life
and the happiness that we shared all the time
or do you not remember that?
do you know remember how I laughed with you
how I laughed even though your jokes weren't funny
and no one else was laughing except for me and you
doesn't that mean anything
to you?
don't you remember how I held you through the dark times
and told you that it's okay to be sad
everyone is
but no,
you don't remember how I told you everyone was sad sometimes
you think you're the only one who has darkness inside them
to you everyone else
is just enjoying the sunshine
while you are crying at 3am
what world are you living in?
everyone cries at 3am
they can't help it
the world is so warped and twisted around them that
they try to grin at 3am and laugh along with
the rest of the day
but no one does
all that comes out is tears
tears that aren't fake no matter how much you think
everyone cries at 3am
they cry in their sleep
they cry tears huddled up in bed
they cry on the bridge as they try to end it
they cry as they get the call "it's over. I don't love you"
they cry as their beloved pet fish slowly sinks down into it's tank
they cry as they realize that you don't know that
they cry too.
they cry tears of blood sometimes
or just tears of water that they haven't drank in a month
not everyone shows how they broken they are you know
some bottle it up and try to enjoy the sunlight
but the problem is that then it all comes out at 3am
when there is no light to shine on their problems
there's only darkness to show them what they think
they think they're all alone and that no one cares
enough to check up on them, hiding in the dark
but you can do it all better
you can push past the urges at 3am
and smile instead of cry because
you can do it for them
dive deep under the ocean your tears have formed because
not everyone has to cry at 3am
you can make it.

you think blood is cool, do you?
you glorify people killing themselves as if it's neat
you talk about illnesses because it has no connection to you
when someone's shot you laugh about the murderer
(even when it's babies that didn't have a chance at life yet)
because it's all a story to you
it's nothing that will really happen, will it?
it's not real, it's just a story
from the pages of our history textbook
or the coffee stained newspaper from this morning
because it's not real. It's not real.
do you tell yourself that?
as innocent people died, from our town
a young family, gone
and you laughed and said it was funny to you
how can I get it into your head
that's it's real and painful for some people
but not for you.
and then you turn around, and ignore me when I show
you the sci-fi I love so much,
you never think about anyone else
maybe your gorey jokes bother us too
just consider that we have feelings too
and fears, and tears, and hearts
just as much as you

they told me I couldn't love you
not in the way one would expect
but from snide comments and laughter
the cruely of homophobic friends
not bad people, just confused about what's right

but all I wanted to do was hold you tight
and feel the echo of your bones as we stayed up all night again
in our rightful place together
I never thought it'd be them,
with their judgemental jokes and comments
I thought they would come to their senses
wouldn't they? They're my friends after all
they're not bad people
just confused and with their confusion
the words they produce burn souls and snap bones
they crush dreams and shove people into the dark

it's from the people I know best
the guardians of my own heart
and the keepers of every breath I breathe

but how can they guard and keep my breath
if they can't save my love?
All I need is you, to hold me tight
until my bones break and my tears
are full of blood and happiness

we can guard eachother's breaths until they
slowly run out floating into the lost souls eyes
and staying there forever,
while we lay there with our faces upwards,
a river of our love,
a river that runs red late into the night

The little kids we used to be,
still play like the kids we were,
but now it’s graveyards instead of a playground.
Instead of dress-up costumes,
it’s makeup lathered to our faces,
we must be like those perfect pictures in magazines.
We play boyfriends and girlfriends instead of hopscotch,
anorexia instead of basketball.
Instead of storybooks, it’s facebook posts telling us
we don’t deserve to live.
We used to wear those colorful sillybandz,
and trade them with each other,
but now it’s scars from a razor
we wish we could take off.
It was always begging for seconds of ice cream,
but now it’s sneaking away to throw up the
little amount of food they make you eat.
Instead of staring at a summer campfire
waiting to roast marshmallows,
we stare at the fire waiting to burn ourselves.
Instead of angry first graders getting into a fistfight,
the anger now directs the punch to ourselves.
We used to sneak Halloween candy,
trying to stuff ourselves,
but now you sneak pills,
trying to overdose and hoping for death.
We used to play so freely,
we thought it’d always be like that.
But now we run among graveyards,
the bones of the ones we left behind
clutter the passages.
And we’re still children playing games
with the worlds, but the stakes are higher,
we wonder if we’ll make it.
It’s just a roll of the dice on this graveyard
playground.