the garden holds
an aromarous display
of flowers
sprouts of tulips
with their
caressed petals
bringing life
to the dirt they were
grown from

all planted
with a purpose
someone wanted
to see them bloom
wanted to see all
but the dandelion
the pesky
****

I am the dandelion
plucked
by the child's hands
given a purpose
for I sprouted without one

here, mama
look, I brought you
a flower
I thought it was
just as pretty
as you!

smacked
to the ground
"youre saying
I'm as ugly
as that hideous
****?"

the one
that never goes
away
the one
that shows up
when you want it the least
stealing
your sunshine
stealing
nutrients
from the tulips
and roses

in the garbage
with an old
banana peel
and empty containers
of yourt
I hear the child
cry

I am sorry
to only be a burden
I am sorry
I could not impress
your mother
I am sure I will be
one of many
unsatisfactory
gifts

I did not ask to be here
a mistake
a pest
never appreciated
only causing
trouble

I am the dandelion
the child is me
won't you let me
grow
freely

wouldn't call it
insomnia
I haven't even
tried
to rest my head
and sleep.
forcing
myself to stay awake
because the time
before drifting
asleep
is the worst.

it's easier
when someone
is next to me.
I could
hold you
feel your heat
against me
hug
you
cuddle
you

even though
I am small
being the big spoon
is my favorite.

craving intimacy.
but when
I receive it
I end up
pushing
it
away.

I used
to search
for attention;
anyone
to talk to
anyone
so I wouldn't
be alone
with my thoughts.
I've stopped
looking for
my
satisfaction
in others

"love yourself,
or no one
else
will,"
that's a lie.
others
can, and
will love me
but I can't
accept
that love
return
that love

it's just unfair
to them.

I don't want to fall asleep.
not
the sleep part
but
the falling.
the time with my mind
alone.
although I lack
an internal monologue
I still
feel.
my thoughts
are not words
they are
feelings.
when I write
I make them
words.
when I
am falling
asleep
alone
those feelings
are
unavoidable

wouldn't call it
insomnia
just
forcing myself to stay
awake.

wouldn't call it
an eating disorder
just
not making myself
eat.

wouldn't call it
addiction
just
the way I miss you
sober.

wouldn't call it
life
just
a tragic comedy
the
lament
of
me.

depression
is not crippling sadness
as most think it is.
well, sometimes.
it is
apathy
most of the time

who cares?
no point.
everything *****.

I lost my job today
cried, a little
but I cry about everything.
mainly
apathetic
now I truly have no reason
to ever get out of bed
sure,
I'll look for another
way
to live
but this *****
leaves me with no motivation

no motivation
to apply to colleges,
even though I have
a 3.9 GPA
no motivation
to hang out with friends
even though I am
lonelier than ever

no motivation
to eat food
even though I am
starving

after
I left my now "old work"
I had the impulsive decision
to rescue a dog.
maybe
if I have another creature
to look after
love
feed
I will start
to care for myself, too.

the shelter
made my heart hurt
the kittens
weren't crying
just
sleeping
in their jail cells
uninterested
in life
or their possible new
friend
looking at their possible
rescuer
with disinterest
looking
through their cage
like me.

finnegan
was a terrier mix
a stray
he was whining
licked
my hand
when I reached to him
eight years old
missing
his right eye
life has trampled him
yet he is not hardened
I cried
with him

as I walked him
around the play area
he sniffed everything he could.
curious
investigating
not crying anymore
just happy to be free
from the hell in his cage
he
treated the workers
with affection
like he treated me
with affection

it took awhile
until he came close
and cried while I pat him
climbed in my lap
and cried
I know
buddy

walked him inside.
the woman,
at the counter
looked at me eagerly,
"so?!"
I looked away.
can't
do it
not
today
I'm sorry

him and I
are both looking
for affection
love
a way out of this mess.
but
I can't help him.
no job,
no sure way I can buy him food
buy me food.
I can't
buy a living creature
out of impulse.

he needed security
I cannot provide that
only warmth.

I need to be happy
he cannot provide that
only warmth.

goodbye,
cutie
puller of heartstrings
I promise
someone better than me
will take you away.
not today

lost myself
lost my passion
lost my lust
lost my job
lost
my
soul.

my worst habit is my tendency
to binge
on absolutely everything.

“moderation”
you remind me, constantly.
to that I say,
my precious
as I consume
   consume
        consume


i don’t like my sober mind.
i feel too much like
my mother,
whose worries eat her alive.

inebriation gives me
the power
to not give a ****!
something i lack when in sober thought.

****,
it’s like anything and everything
causes a stress and worry
i just want to be away from it
for a little while.

that little awhile
being every day
at every chance i get.

"If you dont like the weather in Boston,
Just wait a minute"

last night
it was seven degrees outside
my teeth chattering
holding my body
for warmth
as I waited for my taxi
to arrive

the hail
felt like it was tearing my face into pieces
with every ice pellet
that hit my skin
I felt was tearing
pieces of you off my flushed,
warm cheeks

now,
it is morning
I havent slept.
my mind has been occupied
by you,
and lust filled fantasies
of you
inside of me
filling me until
I could burst

it is morning
the pellets that lashed me
violently
and landed in a soft pile
outside my bedroom window
are melting

I see the sunrise
the day
meeting the night
in a lustful embrace

if our bodies ever meet
I promise to make your sun rise
and then erupt
in a beautiful display
of spicy red
with hints of purple
to leave on the hotel sheets
a reminder
that tomorrows sunrise
is just a day away

you may be colorblind
but I will show you red
with my tongue,
my mouth
my lips

believe me
I will show you
color
how it's meant to be

everyday is exactly the same
there is no love here
and there is no pain*

every single day
consists of only
gray
though my sight
is not colorblind
I exist
in a monochromatic world

at first
when I discovered
my true self
hiding
in my shadow
I found I was
drowning
in the deepest sea
of dark blue misery

anchors of shame
sunk me
to the depths
unable to pull myself
back up
my soul died while submerged
and since then
this sunken vessel
has been empty

sea of sadness
I am
one with you
the pressure
is no longer
overwhelming
it has become
unnoticeable
as with
all else

no joy
no sunshine
can touch this
void
myself
immune to sadness
immune to all
the colors of emotion

please make me real
I just want to feel

I crave your presence

the energy
which follows you like a shadow
electrifies my body
magnifies
my awareness
which is always
fine tuned
to you

you are
my personal drug
the high
you give me
is unlike any other
excites my body
and my mind
putting me in a daze
so that I
stumble
over words
embarrass myself

you never fail
to leave me
with a colorful
imagination

one filled
with thoughts
of you and me

passion
and lust
paint the scenes
in my mind
tempting me
to tell you to
get to know
me
let your hands
be your eyes
and see
how my body feels
exploring
new territory
relieving
tension

I am hungry
for you
but I wonder
if I ever do
get to have you
will it
spoil
my appetite?

will I
grow accustomed
to your taste
after a few bites
and become bored
discard you
like a half eaten
apple
no longer
hungry
at all?

alas,
I crave you still
you wave hello

and in return
the smile I give you
screams all of this

I am a bird at the bottom of the sea
I am under a rock and wish to be free
Sometimes my anger turns my soul red
I hate this place and wish I were dead

I'm still waiting for a point to this life

The rainbow
Of you and me
Would start with white.

"But Beck -
white isn't a color
it's the absence of them,"

Before I told you
that I loved the way
your words flowed across the page
we were whiteness.
You: oblivious to my existence
doing what I imagine
as respectful activities
of a father and husband.
Me: in a nineteen year old haze
loving a soul passionately,
playing video games, while discreetly
******* to your novel.
Which reminds me -
if you ever write erotica,
(you should)
please include the *****,
naughty,
gritty details,
that make my body rise and fall;
that make my wings flutter
in fleeting ecstasy.

We passed yellow
awhile back
intrigue, curiousity
you told me
you would never cheat
you can't help it
that you want to see people naked.
Lucky you -
I adore
showing you my naked body;
I touch myself
and reach my peak
to the thought of your eyes
caressing my curves,
your gaze
pinching my hard *******
as you explode
on my pixelated body.

I may have left you behind
as I reached green
a few weeks ago.
that's okay,
cause this place is a garbage dump.
envy
of the woman whom you belong to
who can feel your skin
who gets all of your words
all of you.
that's okay,
'cause all I really crave
is your body,
anyways.
I want your thickness
in me; but
I've said that enough times.

You've spent enough time here
Please wait in the car
I'm not the me you like
When I'm drenched in blue
Anxiety and
Self critique
Has brought me to be
Drowning
In depression
In my self loathing
I make pit stops by blue
All the time, it seems
I never leave
Used to be once a month,
Then once a week
Once a day
All day.
Days go by and I cannot breathe
Engulfed
In the blueness of never
Never have been
Never am
Never will be
Happy
Or
Satisfied?
I see your hand
And grab on
You pull me from the murky depths
You buckle me up
And drive us
To

Orange
Craving you
I want to know how you taste.
The budding sun
That rises
The daylight
The hand that pulled me
From the dark blue
Affection, a bit, but
Mostly
Intense lust.
**** me in orange.
Pull my hair until I scream
From the pleasure
Of feeling you inside me
Of you
Clawing
At my back
Orange, is just a vision
of ecstasy
close to the suckle enchantment
Of red
Deeper than
The innocence of yellow
I am writing this in orange

But I want you in red
All of you
The taste of passion
You've been teasing me with
I want it all
Spank me red
****
Me
Red
Make my sore
Tight
Passage red
From filling me until I collapse
I know you will never
Leave me unsatisfied
I am your pet
Of pleasure
Of anything you desire

Empty into me
With purple
Collapse onto me
Your satisfaction
Gleaming
Deep
Pure
Evil
I will massage you
Work away the stress
Of your successful
Life
Wash it away
In purple
Wash me away
In purple

critical thinking
as you call it;

that which
I seem to lack.
need to
improve
upon.
and I agree in ways.

you said,
it is observing
the situation,
the pieces,
I have at hand,
and deducing
the best possible way
in my knowledge
to make them
fit together.

sounds
quite simple -
common sense.

simple,
if my mind
ran as smoothly as your own.
a trait of yours
I admire greatly.
a trait of others
I am envious of.

but critical thinking
is different when
my mode of
thinking
is not the same

I do not see
my surroundings;
my life,
my reality,
as cogs and gears
that progress
this existence.

I admire
the way you,
and others
pick up on the
little
small
hidden artifacts
that allow yourself
to discover
the best
possible way
to proceed.

if I were to say,
you noticed
the overlooked
and finer details,
I would say
I notice-
no-
I experience awareness
of it's entirety.
how it feels
to me
and how I feel
about it.

if our
individual
thought processes
were placed
in an ever changing river,
whose currents
vary
and are unpredictable?
yours
would be
picking up the driftwood
the sticks,
and objects in grasp.

and as the current carries it,
it would be constructing
a raft
to stay afloat:
safe
and
in the most
comfortable way,
so it could eventually
construct
something suitable
and sturdy
to rest upon,
and relax with content,
while enjoying
the splashes
and warm sunlight
from a safe spot.

instead of
deducing the situation
as yours did,
my thought process
would drift along
the same river,
letting the current
take it under -
if that is where
it felt like going.
finding logs
and debris
to hang on to
when the current
became too much
and it needed a break.

yours may be
high and dry,
but mine has felt
the pebbles
along the bottom
of this river -
the depth and pressure
almost frightening,
but the experience
in itself
always beautiful.
mine floats upon it's back,
like an otter,
enjoying the sunlight
as yours does,
experiencing
this journey through
the rivers path.

and maybe,
if the current gets rough,
if mine is struggling,
it will find the hand
of yours
lifting it up
to keep it safe
until the rocky waters
have passed.

I experience
as I feel,
which may not
be the best approach
all of the time.

but with this,
I am able to
feel
what I believe
is the best choice,
based
on my experience
of the whole.

you make me
feel
and want to
try
new ways of thinking,
new ways
that may help.
you are always pushing
pushing me
to do more
to be more;

which is just one
of the many reasons
why I love you.

Clouds like smoke fill the sky,
Pearl white ash becomes grime.
Sleep beckons me with its embrace,
Dreaming to strangle me
Under blankets of black.

Time devours feeling,
But death consumes everything.
I am the dirt underneath your nails,
Leave me to rot.
I want to decay with you.

If you know the words, sing along:
Indifferent hands control us all.
Chaos, destruction, escape -
As it begins,
So it will end.

this darkness
is slowly consuming me
eating away at my life
I do not fear
for there is not much light
for it to take away.
however,
I would enjoy to have
a brightness in my life.
it does not have to be
quite like the moon,
or a star,
I would be more than satisfied
with something equivalent
to a dimly lit candle
or even
a dying lightbulb.
just something,
even if it is small,
that can help me see.
although,
it is likely
the light will never find me.
I guess I will
just have to teach myself
to learn to see
in the dark.

in my dreams
something is always
chasing me
that something
changes
sometimes
a malicious ghost
sometimes
nothing definitive at all
just something
to run from

I spend most of my
dreams
coming up with plans
to escape
to hide
if I crawl inside the
computer
and become one
with the technology
the lady ghost
will never
find me here

until
she decides
to use
the computer
she always does

if I sneak into
this auditorium
maybe
I can blend in
and whatever
I am running from
will give up

climbing
over rows of unoccupied
seats
think I am
safe
until I look around
surrounded
by amish women
I am like
a bright red button
in a mound of dust

my attempts
always futile
I will
never succeed
never get away
it will
find me every time
but what will?

the dream
changes
as soon
as I am found
my eyes
open
before I can ask
why

five years
dreaming
of constant pursuit
it's no wonder
my
waking life
is filled
with exhaustion

when I dreamt
of an armed man
chasing me
through fields of wild grass
I turned on him
grabbed
the gun
and shot

one
two
three
still trying
to grab me
hundreds
of bullets
pierce his
dreamt up flesh
and he does not stop

I've been told
in these dreams
instead of
running
to ask
what they want
why am I
being pursued

I dare you to try
my dreams are nightmares
if I ease my flight
for a second
the darkness
will consume me

life is strange.
I wonder frequently
why I am conscious
did the me that I am
spring to be out of
nothingness?

"energy cannot be created;
nor destroyed"

what was I, then,
before I became me?
sometimes, I daydream
and imagine
that before being born into this hell
I was just beams of enegy
shooting out
from a supernova.

flying
past
star systems
and
comets
and nothingness
being almost nothing
no
consciousness
not yet

that is just
a daydream.
I am not religious.
but
the concept of heaven
seems pretty ******
to me.
bliss, ****
I don't want
eternal
anything.

I would get used to it.
living in bliss
would become normal
even if
it is a stark contrast
from the way
I am living right now.

no,
personally,
my idea is that
when I die
my consciousness evaporates
my soul becomes
what I was
before me
and I no longer
have thoughts,
or emotions.
that used to scare me.
it's not frightening,
because in nothingness,
you have no concept
of frightening.

you also have no concept of happiness
but none
of sadness either.
no embarassing memories
or boredom
or headaches
or being sick
I won't even
be able to miss my dogs
for I will have no concept of them.

I am not scared
of death
nor
nothingness
I welcome them
but will wait
until I get an invite.

one of the biggest questions
that used to plague me
was
why does anything exist at all?
I don't think there's an answer
as to why.
I think it just does.
and existence
means
experiencing
all of it
the happiness,
the *******
the anger
and depression

duality
is in
everything

I am not horrible
well, in some ways
I am
but in an equal amount
I am also
wonderful
and the same goes for you,
too,
though I see
each side
of the duality of your being
as something beautiful.

in my dream last night
my favorite poet
Sam Pink
wrote a list of reasons
why I ****
and why
he hates me

reading it
was probably the coolest thing
that's happened to me
and it wasn't even real

I've been saying
my depression has been
getting better
but has it?

does it matter?

does anything matter?
(nope)

why do I care
about my emotional health
when everything
that occurs to me
has no value nor importance

the only impact
I will ever have
will be
to other people
other
mortal sacks of flesh
whose lives
are equally as meaningless
as my own

all of my words
and thoughts
and lack of emotion
exist for less than a nanosecond
in the entirety
of the universe

I'll just continue
distracting myself
from humanities
inevitable fragility

each human life
each of our
manifestations of consciousness
are as irrelevant
as a grain of sand-
tiny
bland
and irritating

together we form
a beach
the kind that nobody wants
to spend a day at
scattered with trash
and a pungent smell

bury your head in the sand
and ignore reality

write me a list of reasons
why my existence is pathetic
I will agree and nod along

everything that is in myself
is inside everyone else

death is inevitable
so get used to it

caress me with your words
they are honey
that drips over
all of my existence
coating me
turning me into something
more sweet

I am tastier
when dipped
in your sugar
savor me
devour me

but often
you enjoy me
raw

men
only want
to have *** with me

that's it

gross

I look at the stain
My period has left on my favorite *******
And hold them in my hand
As I contemplate what to do with them.
I can try to get the blood out
But the stain will still linger
A reminder that I am only human
And ******* is natural but -
“Dont talk about that,
Thats so nasty.
Maybe that's why
You've been such a *****.
Typical FEMALES”
I am gross for being a woman?
Men worship my *****
But the moment I bleed
It's as disgusting as curdled milk.
Society wants to see me
As something unhuman
An object to worship
A ******, mindless creature
That does what she's told
A FEMALE.
But I am a WOMAN
I have ideas, morals, and input.
My thoughts and opinions that matter.
I can make jokes,
And drink beer,
And read,
And play video games,
And be a musician,
And speak my mind,
And bleed.
Like a FEMALE human.
Or,
Like a woman.

I make jokes about how I starve myself because I am starving myself

if I didn't make it look
this good,
someone might think
there's something wrong

I am the
ugly sofa
on the side of the street,
frumpy
with
stuffing coming out
of my sides

forever damp
from the multiple times
it has rained
in the months
that I've been outside
waiting
for a potential
rescuer
to come
and give me a home

for them to sit on
lay on
have *** on

no
rescuer
to come
only
mold
mold
mold

some kids
decide it would be funny
to drag me
to their backyard

not the living room
I was thinking of
nope

not even
a roof
over my head
just
a place to sit
while they smoke ****
and laugh
and shoot squirrels
and drink beer
and ash their cigarettes on

oh well
what more
can a
moldy
frumpy
discarded
old couch
really hope for
anyways

hatred
for every human
that's ever existed
how pathetic,
naive,
stupid

they fill me
with disgust
and pity

isn't it ironic
how my
pretentious
view of humanity
is matched
by my inherent desire
for their company?

making me the
most pathetic
most disgusting
most pitiful
one of all

I'm ******* lonely as hell dude

can't stand to be around anyone
but even more,
can't bear to be alone with my mind

intimacy and conversation -
regardless of quality -
serve as a distraction
from the feeling of dread
which won't leave me
ever

in my solitude
it feels like
something is laughing
at my existence:

a cockroach
with a superiority complex
pretending to be dignified
like it won't be crushed
immediately
when stepped on

SOMETHING OR SOMEONE
PLEASE
END MY LIFE

if everyone answered
honestly
when they were asked
how are you
I wonder
how many lives would be saved

how many friendships made

as for me,
I'm depressed
exhausted
anxious
crashing
but still smiling

and one of a million

though
considering
I'm asked this question
at least two hundred times
during work
maybe it's better
we aren't honest
rhetorical question
generic response
maybe it's better
we hide

hibernating
for two days
good morning
is at
4:30
in the afternoon.

let me hold you
while I hibernate
let me
wrap my legs
around you
become
one
with your body
our dreams
intertwining
into the same
cloud
above our heads

the same
cloud
above me
right now.
the drizzle
from our dreams
speckles
my head
the pieces of them
raining lightly
on me
as I wake myself up
with the afternoon air

let's run naked
in our dreams
soak
ourselves
in the rain
I always thought it
to be
relaxing

good morning

I am the water
that falls
from your shower head
caressing your body
before
dropping
onto the bathtub floor
I get pulled
towards the drain
and
******
down

I am the ***
hanging on the rack
above
your stove
knock me on accident-
I will
fall
to the ground
breaking the silence
of the night
with the loudest
bang
I will wake up
your entire
household
as I plummit
down

I am the driftwood
floating along
this river
bumping
into rocks
and debris that
the current takes me through
I have reached
the peak of the waterfall
you will hear the roar
as I come
crashing
down

I am the skin that sags
around your *******
as you get older
you
curse me
every time
you look in the mirror
I am the cause
of your insecurity-
where you put the blame
for your marriages failure-
wrinkled
skin
being
pulled
down

I am the ship
with a ruptured
side
my buoyancy
broken
as I start to
tip
towards certain doom
the families and
lives
of the souls aboard me
realize
their fate
and show their true,
human
nature
as we
sink
towards the ocean floor-
as we
sink
down

wouldn't know
life
without it

gravity

bearing it's
pressure
force
attraction
inescapable
******* me
towards her
never leaving
no matter
how much
I beg

always
taking me
down

"aw,
why don't you
smile!"
the man says,
looking at me.

"c'mon,
you old thing,
fly!"
the child says,
kicking the dead bird.

I'm not going to smile
to look pretty for you
a sight to see
a sight for sore eyes
I am not
a dog.

in my
abusive
relationship
my ex would tell me
every day
to clean his room
clean the basement
do the laundry
if i didn't
I was treated
like a bad
dog.
made to look at the mess
but
it was not mine.
many times,
when I did
my
job
it wasn't sufficient
"I *******
HATE
CLUTTER"

clean it yourself,
then.
but no,
I did.
even when
I didn't like you.
even when
I hated you.

when I was 19
at the bookstore
a man
told me to get him
a card,
could have reached it
himself
could have done it
himself
guess I misheard him
and got him the wrong one
"are you stupid?!"
in his thick
accent
"stupid girl
get me
a napkin.
throw it out
here,
throw it out
I said"

you can't be any
good at video games,
you're a girl.

you can't be
bisexual
you're just doing it
for attention.

you can't
wear that
and expect people to respect you
expect people
not to harass you
expect people
to think you're smart
expect people
to not think you're a
****.

IF
I am a ****
for being confident with my body
for being comfortable
with
my sexuality
for being open
about
my orientation
for enjoying
***
then yeah, I am
I am not ashamed
of any of those things
and they do not make me
less of a
human.

don't
tell me
to smile.
don't
tell me
what to do
or
when to do it
I will do
what I want
whenever the ****
I want


I won't
smile.
I will wear
tank tops
and makeup
and beat your ***
in every video game
make you feel
worthless
I will
speak my mind
have opinions
morals
I will
read literature
learn
educate myself
educate others
I will
have ***
with whomever I want
safely, but
without any shame

I will
be
human

the female sparrow
never seems to be satisfied
with just one lover.
she ***** them
then gets bored
and moves on to the next
sparrow
who can give her what she wants
maybe she seeks
diversity
because she has low self esteem
maybe she seeks
entertainment
because she is depressed
maybe she seeks
multiple lovers
because the moment she gets what she wants
she becomes bored
and she sees too much of them
and its no longer a mystery
i am the sparrow
with a multitude of men
i keep by my side
yet none of them love me
am i looking for love?
or a distraction?
i can tell you this much
valentines day
*****
for both the sparrow
and me.

sweet
release!
finally able
to get myself off.
maybe
the depression
is waning.
maybe
I am finding light
in the dark places.
never been more thankful
for ******
in my life.

as long as I can have *******,
if nothing else,
this life is worth living.
give me back
my lust.
that is what I will
steal
back
first.
lust is passion
getting
passion
back.
I will always live
with you

you are like
the racist grandmother
who I
am forced to take care of.
can't just
get rid of you
have to wait
till you die.
wondering
how
someone
something
so negative
could be a part
of my heritage
myself
oh, well
I have finally
found a way
to shut
you up.
tune
you out.

love you
at times
for making me
aware
of my flaws.
though
I will not
be consumed
by them.
I have strengths
too.

cheers to
the shred of hope
the light
I glimpse
as I'm trying
to find
my way out
of this cave
I've been lost in
for weeks.
the cave
of depression.
******
is the light.

laughing
laughing that
something so ridiculous
could have shown me
maybe
I am getting better
maybe
it's not entirely
all bad.
laugh
with me
***
with me
we will
get out
of this mess.

the sun
which finally brought an end
to the teeth chattering
winter
the warmth
I feel on my skin
the reminder
that summer comes
again

is blinding
my *******
eyes

seeping through
the window
no matter how many
different ways
I adjust the shades
or how many
sheets
I drape over the window
it still manages
to burst through
it's brightness
the most annoying
pestering
obvious thing

that which gives me life
I curse
and wish didn't exist at all

if I told you all of the
horrible things I've done
would you still be nice to me
would anyone

if everyone in the entire world
told me all of the
horrible things they've ever done
would there be a single person
left
that I still liked

are we all just
lying to others
and ourselves
painting on our fake
masks
everyday
careful
yours is peeling off
and I don't like what I see

please **** me

never been happier
to be home
never been more miserable
to be home
throw
my bags of crap
material possessions
kick
the eternal
mess
that is my room
that is me
make a path
to my bed
lonely
twin bed
one
pillow
one
blanket
not much
but enough

enough to hold me while I cry
my blanket wraps her arms
around me
my pillow
lets me vent
I will pretend they are my friends
I have
no
friends

the ones
who would be the closest
thing to a friend
I have
do not answer the call.
do not answer the message.
it's okay, 'cause
I isolate myself
from them anyways
do not answer their calls.
do not answer their messages.
if I had any
remainder of myself
left in me
I would laugh
because
my bed is my only friend
and I am my worst enemy

writing.
write
down
the pain
devastation
realization
that this is what life is
it at least
feels like I am talking
to someone.
maybe
no one
but I am venting.

my tears
are sulfuric acid
they have melted my skin,
who I am.
right
through
the bone
scar tissue
weak tissue
tissue that will break again
I am no longer myself
I am the remainder
of what is left.
ugly
wrinkled
mess
unrecognizable
as human
I am not real
I am not a person
at all
just the
acid tear drops
that fall
and the scars
they have left

i am the *** toy
that you
throw
under your bed
when someone enters
your room
unannounced
QUICK-
hide me

i am the cigarette ****
you smush into the ground
and try
to push away
with your foot
so your family
doesn't notice
your trash
QUICK-
hide me

i am the empty
alcohol bottles
from when you were 17
and threw a party
while your parents were away
quick
drive them to the
dump
before they get home
QUICK-
hide me

i am the girl
who you talk to
and hide from your wife
delete the messages
throw out the *******
silence
the phone
QUICK-
hide me

it's okay
i don't mind being hidden
so long
as you take me out to play
every once in awhile
i will tease you
from my hidden depths
lick
and beckon
until you take me out
in the comfort
of privacy
to fulfill
your pleasures

the star
obliviously
makes her
rotations
of life
around
the black hole
glowing
shining
fiery
pits of hell
if you get close,
but providing
warmth
and life
to her planets
that stay
far enough
away

naive
creature
born maybe
closer to the black
hole
than others
doesn't
notice it
as
out of the ordinary
anything
other
than her life

each
movement she makes
she will
be closer
to her destination
closer
to her destiny

took me
twenty years
of life
until I realized
the full force
of my depression

only when
she got close enough
did she realize
she was falling
into
the black
hole
that this
was what
wanted
her energy
her mass
herself
*******
pulling
with more force
than anything
she had ever
experienced

the realization
that her
entire life
was spent
waiting
to be devoured
by this
hell
oblivion
all she knew
was a
fabrication
never even
thought to wonder
what
she was circling
just
ignored
the glaring questions
ignored
the evidence
ignored
all of the signs
until
it was too late
to escape

event horizon

help me

i am trying
to gather
the momentum
strength
power
to get myself
outside
this point
of no
return
seems
impossible
seems
wasted
I won't stop
until I am devoured alive

I am the star
at an
event horizon

black hole
let me
free

the sun rises
above me:

a display of vibrance;
colors red,
pink,
and orange
sink into the sky,
pouring into it
a new day

my world
changes before me,
from one of darkness
into a world
spilling with light

a performance --
a transformation --
fleeting, yet
always
a humbling experience;
one as wondrous
as it is
consistent


the sun rises
above me,

and

honestly?
I feel irritated
that it had to come up
at all


I think if heaven is real,
then undoubtedly,
mine
would be our night
if it never had to end.

or,
it could be
any night.
honestly,
it's anywhere with you.


fruitless?

maybe,
if it were lust
calling me to you

it's like,
I could care less
about the fruit -
I just wanna be with the tree
they grow from,
maaan

funny how
I lie to myself
and pretend
everything is
okay
getting better
when I am really
just shoving my
depression
to the side
ignoring her
and pretending
she is starting
to wane.

I am not
getting better.
I am still
hurting those who love me
and getting upset
when they speak
on how
I have hurt them.
it's like,
I know.
I know I am horrible.
I am stupid.
unthankful.
so why do I
keep doing it
why won't I
change
I'll wait
on these steps
in the cold
rain

the rain that earlier
seemed peaceful
relaxing
now to me
it seems
crushing
bearing the weight
of my faults
with each drop
that hits
pushing me
farther
towards the ground
until I am nothing
but the pile
of snot
tears
and rain

I want to be nothing
yet
I want to feel
love
and intimacy

why don't I just
give up
why don't I just
stop
talking
to anyone in my life
maybe
if I disappear
from others
I will begin
to disappear
myself.

I just want to cry.

I try to be kind
but.

it is Tuesday.
I am crying
smoking
alone
outside my work
I am quite obviously
trying to keep it
on the DL.
there's no
loud,
dramatic weeping.
if
I wanted a random strangers
fake
caring
I would howl like the wind

I
would flail my arms and legs
against the ground
kick
scream
make it known
that I want
your words that drip
with fakeness
and your selfish
motives.

"hey-
are you okay sweetheart?"
do I ******* look okay?
why is it
any of YOUR business.
old man
stranger
I am sure you meant well.
but believe me
I know that
anything "comforting"
on your part
will just be regurgitated
lines
that you read somewhere
or heard someone say once
do not
pretend to give a ****.
keep your
unwanted
unnecessary
words

like,
it will get better
(thank you, all seeing being of the future)
don't cry!
(******* and don't tell me what to do)
but you're too pretty to be upset!

so since
I am physically attractive to you
Am I not allowed
to feel?
I am prohibited
from having
any emotional depth
any
substance
that would make me
a human being.
you make me hate life
ten times more.

maybe that's somewhat unfair.
maybe he was only trying to help
maybe I should
appreciate that somebody
wanted to make me feel better.

no, he wanted
to make himself feel better
a pat on the back
so he can pet his ego
and make himself feel
like someone who is
real.
good.
kind.
I don't care
for your half hearted sympathy

*******
I don't want to be
something
that helps you sleep at night
that makes you feel
like you are worthy
of the things you desire
worthy
of the women
you ******* to
worthy
of devouring
the grilled
carcus
of what used to be
a living being
that is sitting in front of you
with a bow on top.
you are worse
than the animals you eat.
you are worse
than the spit
that I launched at your feet

which to you, was
"way out of line"
good.
think about why it happened to you.
learn from my spit.

my words of advice
to this man:
next time you are out
and you see a stranger
who looks sad
or someone
who is crying
silently
to themselves
leave them the **** alone.
if they're making a scene,
that's something.
but there's a reason
I was discreetly
crying.

you are not entitled
for me to share my pain
my thoughts
my feelings
with you
if I wanted to,
I would.
me spitting
at your feet
is nicer than any words
that would have exited
my mouth.

I used to wish I had
another life

daydream
about living
without the stress of mine
"if only,
life had given me
better cards to play"

now, I'm just envious
of others
minds

it's not
the cards I was dealt
that are the problem-

it's the constant overlooking
of plays
I could have made
continuous mistakes
my own
personal
issues
preventing me
from turning out
on top

used to think
(still kind of do)
that everyone who was
"happy"
were just deceiving themselves

lying
telling theirself
that they were happy
so much so
that they
believed it-
using
distractions
to keep their misery at bay

now I realize
that thought
was quite a bit
of self-projection

how nice it would be
to have passion again
emotion
my outgoing nature

I've been dealing with her for years
which leaves me to wonder-
has my personality
just been
a fabrication
a mask that I've worn
to hide
depressions ugly visage?
have I worn it
so frequently that
I started to recognize it
as my own
reflection?

I don't know who I am anymore
though,
it's not like I ever have

I don't know what life is anymore
I've definitely
never known
what that's been all about

for the past six months,
(year?....)
(two years?...)
(my entire life?...)
I've only had
two states
of emotion-
dark blue
or
gray

dark blue
is when I am inconsolable
with tears
absolute misery
my soul
shattered
into a million pieces

dark blue
is when I have
panic attacks
over how horrible
of a person I am
lying
on my bathroom floor
choking on my own tears
choking on my own breath

gray
is
nothingness
something
horrible could happen to me
a job loss,
a heartbreak,
a loss of a friend
and I will experience
no emotion

like an empty
void
throw whatever the ****
you want in there
I promise you
there will not be any
reaction

gray
with random
and sudden
bursts of blue

not the most
excruciating pain
just the constant
dull
throbbing
of the grayish blue
bruise
that you're always
trying
to cover up

I will
never
go away

my day -
a chaotic
downward spiral
angry, entitled faces
glare at me
expect me to juggle
thirteen flaming tennis *****
while running
full speed ahead
to their every
beck and call

like,
when your computer
gets a virus
and fifty-five million tabs pop up
careening out of control
giving no chance
to even close out of one -
a clusterfuck of stress

when I finally get
my ten-minute break
I sit outside -
alone -
can't deal with
one more ******* person
just let me
smoke my cigarette
calm my anxiety
***** my head back in
in solitude
before walking back
through the gates of hell

don't smoke those,
you're killing yourself.

no
*******
way
I
had
no
idea

do I know you?
you're certainly not family,
nor a friend
definitely not
someone who gives a ****
about my health
or well-being

what if I want
to **** myself?
what if that's
my goal?
who ARE you
to tell me what to do?

maybe,
you think your input
will resonate inside of me
*******, he's right
put down the pack
for good

maybe,
you just want to feel
like you're a good person
boost your ego
thinking
you did something nice
helped
in one way

all you do
is make me want another
leave me the **** alone
a cigarette
is not an open invitation
to talk about my health
to comment on my life
****
off
I don't care what you say
your words
aren't important to me
just like I
am not important to you

mind your own
*******
business

you'd think
in the state of mind
that I've been in lately
sleep
would be a relief

nope

guess not
'cause
I've been forcing myself
to stay
awake

two days now

it's not
that I even want
to be
awake

when I am
conscious
my loneliness
and the
weight
of my
empty
soul
are exhausting enough
that I never
want to leave
my bed

yet
I force my eyes open
drink
my eighth cup of tea
strain
my body
and mind
to keep going
without
rest

I don't want
to dream
again

I can never
seem
to recall them
as of late-
however
the feeling
of what they were
their presence
still lingers
after I
wake up

the emotions
within them
randomly
stab my brain
while I am
awake

more often
than not
the leftover
remnants
of my forgotten
dreams
make me feel
worse
than my
waking
feelings do

the favorite stuffed animal
from a now-grown child
lies
in a pile of mud
soaked through with rain
after one of the dogs got ahold of it
and forgot
to bring it back inside

the baby bird makes a running
leap
and tries to lift her wings
to surprise her mother
with the gift of flight
before she comes home with dinner
total failure
lying fifteen feet
from her nest
with a broken wing
and a voice thats too small
her mother will never
notice
the baby bird will decompose
and become one
with the earth

the blank journal
which was purchased
over a year ago
lies
collecting dust
under piles of
never-to-be-used school supplies
hopes of confessions
or doodles
or even notes
are lost
as it has been forgotten
no one even
remembers
that it exists at all

everything
is exactly the same
as it's always been

you turn me
into someone
I am not-
but-
the only time I am myself
is with you.

you are the sunshine:
with a small taste
I feel
radiant,
effortless,
full.
with too much,
I get burnt.

like a moth
to a light-bulb;
I seek you.
I will fry myself-
I will burn-
just to feel your warmth.

the hot sunshine
in the desert
forms
a mirage,
an oasis,
a luscious stream of water
to quench
my endless thirst.

when I am close enough
to reach it,
I realize there was
nothing.
all along-
my paradise-
nothing
but the hot,
dry sunshine
and my
never-fulfilled desire.

engulf my planet,
fatal fireball,
disguised as an
angel from afar;
I want my skin to melt
in your
blistering light,
like a candlestick.
I want to
melt into a puddle
of who I once was.

I don't know how to live without you.

“You look like my daughter”
The man says to me,
As he’s ordering me a drink
Looking my body up and down.

I laugh,
Look away,
Try to pretend he didn’t say that

Oh but don’t worry
He made it a point
to mention
T H R E E
              M O R E
                           T I M E S
how my body
Resembled his daughters,
“Tight, perfect, the right kind”

Oof.
Idk y’all
Idk that I can do this.
I walk away
I dont make that money.
Even though I know **** well,
I fit his ****** up fantasies.

Not to mention I’m triggered,
Thanks to my childhood trauma,
By all of this conversation,
But it doesn’t really matter
Anyways.
Just a product of my environment
Just an object to fill
The desires
Of hungry eyes.

**** it
Let me be
An empty *** doll.
Just take my intelligence with you please.
Flowers for Algernon ,
And I’m wilting.
I’m too aware of my place in society.

Why strive to peruse my education,
When I know no one will hire me
Because of my background?
Why stay sober,
When my ******* flashbacks
Only stop when I’m drunk?

I hate my life.
No I don’t like the job I have;
But this **** ain’t easy.

And none of it is my fault.
It isn’t.
None of my trauma is my fault.

At least At the end of the day
I have the comfort
Of knowing,
That I matter just as little as the next person.
My life,
In all of its glory,
matters just as little as john f Kennedy’s
I am nothing
And we are nothing

Our suffering is eternal

let me lick the lipstick stain you left on your coffee cup
i'll do it subtly so no one will be alarmed
i'll lick it and enjoy the taste of your makeup
i want to taste you and all that you are

i want to watch you all the time
i want to see you at the moments you are most yourself
the moments that
you pretend don't exist
the 2am searches on pornhub
the you that hasn't left the couch for days
with your hand in a bag of potato chips

let me lick the chip crumbs from your fingers
let me put your finger in my mouth
i want to taste the saltiness you savor
i want to taste who you are
the you that you hide from others

i want you to call me a pervert
and slap me

i will kiss your feet
and lick the soles
tasting the salt and dirt
of all the places you've walked today

you will cringe and say i'm disgusting
and i will smile

let me taste the you
that is you
when no one else is around
let me taste the you
that is you
after a long day of work
let me taste the you
that is you
when you ignore me

"You are not alone. There is beauty in sadness. Many run from it or treat it as something that shouldn't be. We need to feel sadness to feel joy. Your sadness is cold. Can it be made to feel warm?”

can it?
I am starting
to think
yes

realizing
everything you said
carries its own weight
in truth
without sadness
I wouldn't know joy

duality
is in
every part of this universe
from
the ever shifting
ocean
in my soul
to the massive star
we named
the sun
and
she shines
because of duality

massive
amounts of energy
bursting
pushing
to get out
the weight
of her being
crushing
pushing down
with equal
force

the suns
core
fuses
transfers
makes
something else
out of
what is inside her

her hydrogen
becoming
helium
the constant change
creating
something almost
stable
almost
predictable

one day
there will be nothing left
inside of her core
to fuse

one day
I will have nothing left
inside of my soul
to write

when there is no more
hydrogen
left
no more
passion
left
she will collapse
under the weight
of her existence

the pressure
of this alone
causes
more
change
heavier
elements
heavier
thoughts
she will swell
growing
larger
darker
intrusive
making us feel
her being

leaving us
with no where to go
but to accept
and to be
engulfed

after
there is nothing left
she will collapse
from
her giant self
overbearing
us and our neighbors
becoming
a fragment of who
she used to be
rotating
still
the passion
is gone
her life source
is gone
the light
lingers
until she has nothing left
her light
burns out
and
until time stops
she will stay
a brown
quiet
dwarf
all that's left
are her memories of
the life
she gave
to us

I hope
when it is my time
when my fuel
has become heavy
and when I engulf
those
around me
forcing
my deadly heat
onto
my
planets
that I won't collapse
into
a smaller star

into
a lesser version
of me

i want to be
big enough
that I explode
tearing
through what's left
with the beams of energy
I've stuffed inside of me

let my supernova
carry the dust
of the planet
you were
let me
push you elsewhere
farther
let me
bring new life
energy
hope
when I explode

and then
let me eat
anything
that gets too close
you will never leave
you are mine

once I get
the writing juice flowing
it never stops
pouring
over me
into every part
of my life
every conversation
I find myself
making art with my words
or, trying to.

literature,
specifically poetry
has become an escape for me
instead
of substance abuse
or video games
or seeking
attention
I write
my thoughts down
make them
real
take them
by the hand
guide them to the door
and close the door on the way out.
but
I love
watching them leave.
it is the best part.

poetry
is the woman for me.
I have been waiting
for her
searching
for someone
who calms me
pleases me
inspires me
for what seems like my whole life
and we have finally met.
I will hold her close
I will love her
and I will
explore her body
with all of mine
caressing
her smooth skin
with my fingertips,
my mouth
my tongue
I will taste her
and savor it
I will appreciate
all of her curves
and beauty
the flaws, too
she never leaves me unsatisfied
I promise
to never leave her
I promise
to appreciate all of her, always

I never was keen
to the concept
of an open relationship
but she has me experimenting.
I am content
if she sees others
and lets them
appreciate
her delicate, perfect body
the way
the ***
is better than anything else
I would have expected
I'd be jealous
but poetry
is always surprising me.

I have not found
another
I want
nor desire
more than her
but should I ever,
I am allowed
to explore their bodies
as well.
as long as
at the end of the day
she is the one I fall back on.

I have always had a crush on her.
when I was 15,
I tried flirting
but
gave up
when I saw
how others wooed her
so
much
better
than me.
it took time
for me to get enough courage
to try
for her love
again.
she never left me.
she has always been here
waiting,
with open arms
for me
to fold into her embrace
and touch
her *****
making me see
contentment
in her eyes
as they roll
upwards
and she arches her back
in pleasure.

it is
and never will be
better
with anyone else
besides you
babygirl.
you give me a reason to live.
beauty
to this life.
my
wife

the frustration I had
after failing
to bring myself to ******
for the
tenth
time this past week
makes me more
furious
than depressed

seriously
my *** drive
has always been high

as soon as I
got over
the shame
society places on women
for enjoying
their sexuality
I have always used
*******
as a release
relieves
stress
leaves me
relaxed
and
content

or should I say,
left me
feeling that way

usually
it was once a day
fairly frequent
but, it
matched
my *** drive's
needs

what the **** is wrong with me

I have tried
imagining,
watching,
reading,
looking at
every form
of erotica
that exists

I have searched
through everything
I can find
from
****,
******,
stories,
comics

and my search history
will let you know
that I've searched
everything
from
****
to
******
to
interracial lesbian forced *******
and things
worse
than that

e v e r y t h i n g

used to take me,
oh, I dunno
maybe three minutes
with my *******?

after
around an hour
is when I give up
now
I even bought
a different
*******
NO
RELEASE
NO
PASSION
GONE
what is
WRONG
WITH
ME

oh yeah -
depression

I mean
I knew it was bad
when video games
no longer
had appeal
that was enough

games
have been a passion
and a hobby of mine
since I was five

the other hobby
I started a bit older than five
but
you stole that one, too

after depression
beat the **** out of me
on Tuesday
I thought that was it
thought
since the next morning
I awoke
without the urge
to **** myself
it was over

nope

you have robbed me
of the simplest
things
in my life
that give me pleasure

no more
wriggling
moaning
spasming
the tingling
sensation
that starts in my toes
and makes its way
up
the length of my body
the warmness
that follows
with it
the
satisfaction
slight smile
snuggly
sleepy
post ****** me

I miss her
give her
back

I miss my life
give it
back

this isn't
ME
for ***** sake!

I am a ******
witty
humorous creature
full of passion
looking
for opportunities
to get myself off!
not this
depressed
apathetic
vessel
without soul.

you won't stop
until you have
everything
in my life

you won't stop
until you
put
my soul in your mouth
chew
grind
crush it

your saliva
breaks me down

spit me out
please
I am fighting
for you to cough me up
regurgitate
the essence
of me
let me put myself
back inside this body
please
please

no
you won't stop
you will eat my soul
until
ever fiber
protein
ounce of health
I had
is now
inside of you,
depression

cold-hearted *****

"i'm sorry,"
doesn't quite describe
the feeling
inside me
after hurting someone
who honestly, loyally
cared for me
and my well-being

someone who could do that
when i couldn't even try.

"i'm sorry"
doesn't get the point across
that i broke
something so pure
and it wasn't even an accident.
it's not like,
i was unaware
we were exclusively together
when i reached out
and flirted with other people.
it's not like
i was oblivious
that we were monogamous

i still proceeded
to throw the heart you gave me
onto the ground
and stomp on it

my too-kind boss,
says it's because
i am depressed
and it was an effort of self destruction
destroy,
the only light
in my life
destroy,
our love
when you were the only creature
on this planet other than my mother
to truly care for me.
destroy,
knowingly,
secretively,
hiding
where we stood
where i stood
leaving you
waiting
in this downpour
with the impression
i would be right back in five minutes
but really, i was already on my way elsewhere.

i wish life was easy.
i wish i was a simple individual
i wish
i knew how
to love,
and be loved
without subconsciously trying to **** it up for myself
maybe it's because i believe i don't deserve it
maybe it's something more shallow than that
i wish i had reasons
for my depression
just like,
i wish i had a reason
why i crushed our relationship.

if i were to be selfish,
i would beg you
to take me back
beg you
to cuddle me
and spend the night with me
giggling
and holding each other close
i would tell you,
it will never happen again
that it was a dumb mistake
and please give it one more shot

but i love you
so i can't do that

instead,
i will deal with the bitter loneliness
that i created for myself
deal,
with the fake caring
the forced attention
pretending to be
somebody i'm not
for admiration
when you
were the only person
to love me for who
i actually am.
was it worth it?
no.
attention,
and lust,
is not love.

i know you wouldn't
take me back
even if i got on my knees
and begged for your forgiveness.
you are intelligent
and you respect yourself
and i will refuse to do that
because
on the off chance that you do
i know in my heart
i don't deserve it, not even a little bit

i'm crying as i write this
but i've gotten really good
at forcing down tears
and making my voice sound normal
to tell the man
i'm checking out
to have a nice evening
and i break down in tears
as he tells me
"keep the change, ok?"

no matter how i try
everyone
can see i'm broken.
i don't deserve
your kindness
your love
nothing at all
from anyone
not even
eighty-nine cents

my tears
remind me
I am real

my emotions
have frostbite
exposed to
such coldness
they shut off
so I feel nothing at all

then misery comes around
and warms them up
just enough
so I can
feel
the true pain I am in

how critical my state is

it's ironic
how major depression
can make me
oblivious
to how depressed
I really am

like floating inside
a storm cloud
living in gray
experiencing
nothing
but blandness

until I fall
just a small amount
and realize
I'm inside
a torrential downpour
big enough
to sink Noah and his ark
big enough
to swallow this planet whole

no one can make me
feel worse about myself
than I already do
if you're gonna insult me
better put
some ******* effort
into it

there are
three states of matter.
three
states
of Becky

solid.
i am sturdy. i am
for the rare times in my life
responsible
respectable
hard
to crack
but if you do
I am like glass
i shatter
it takes a long time
to fix myself
I crumple
I realize
though I thought I was
indestructable
one short fall
on to the
rock
bottom
and I am
everywhere
a mess
a pain
to clean up
I promise
even if you vaccuum
I will still stab you
in the sole
of your soft
foot
when you are least
expecting me

turn the heat up.
I am liquid.
emotions
freely
move about within me
they are
controlling
my decisions
controlling my life.
I am
liquid
most of the time.
you cannot
break me
for I am already broken
into
tiny
molecules
of who I am.
I float
along
in my
state of being
rising
with the temperature.
who I am
makes me angry
it bubbles up
inside of me
popping
splashing
singing
hurting those around me

dont
get close.
dont
show me your skin.
your real self.
I will burn you
when I boil
I will hurt you
stay
away
even though
I ask you
not to leave

my gasseous state
is nothing at all
numbness
i feel
less
than air.
less
than anything
that exists
at all.
I drift
through life
but I have no weight
no passion
nothing
just
a reminder of what I was
who I am
the people I've burned.

the scars i have left
hold more of
who I truly am
than the me that
is myself
in this state.

the smell
is the worst
potent
dank
lingering
long after
I have begun to form the moisture
on your upper lip

you will lick me off
swallow me
please
don't wipe me away
let me
inside of you
I won't hurt
you
anymore
I promise