i miss
how you would tell a joke
and look at me as if
i'm the one who gets to decide
if its funny or not

i miss
how you would secretly
hold my hand in public
and act like nothing's going on

i miss
how you would do silly things
just because i'm not in a good mood
and you want to see me smile

i miss
how you would sing to me
and look at me straight in the eye
and make me feel like i'm the only person
inside the room

i miss
the times when,
we'll both stay up all night
and just talk to each other

i miss
everything we do together
and most importantly,
i miss you.

to the self harmer holding the blade, wanting nothing more but for it to kiss flesh, know that you've been days clean and you don't deserve another scar.

to the self harmer digging your nails into your thigh after a fight with your parents, know that this storm will pass.

to the self harmer shaking as you bury countless blades in the dirt, know that you've never been as strong as you are now.

to the self harmer hiding deep under your skin, know that your scars are nothing more than a reminder that you're still alive.

to the self harmer rocking the realest smile you have had in weeks, you made it.

I like things that make me sad
I don't think I'll ever not be late
I'm trying to figure out a way to think outside of myself
I'm so limited within this unconditional heart
I'm trying to figure out a way to think inside of you
Lift my body from your bed, and leave my soul tucked in to rest

It's teeth gouge through the gloss of my eyes,
I hang there from my skull,
Heavy footed soaked from its saliva
Spine dripping from my back,
I am silent.
It hunches over me,
The humidity from its pores summon the hairs on my body to arise,
Awakens domes erupting from my skin,
I am no longer human, but its apprentice.
It is strong.
Hovering,
Ready to showe me a different phase of my future death.
I pinch myself to rip skin away from a bad bond,
I am sweating and whimpering in fetal position on the sidewalk.

my scar
etiolate
but my vigor remains
I stand unbowed, unbeaten, and
alive

sleeping and never truly knowing
if tomorrow you will be around
alive that is this side of the grave
is living on the edge supreme
what a journey to be undertaking
and no pun intended,
onward bravely
when you know no-one gets out of here alive

I
a fireworks display in summer.
flashing light -
bursting sound -
nervous adrenaline pulsing through the air.
grabbing fingers -
frantic touch -
it's lightening,
grass under feet,
lingering glances -
a revolution,
a government overthrow,
with guns blazing.

II
a warm fireplace in winter.
fleece blankets -
steaming cups -
christmas carols floating in from the next room.
a warm body -
a sleepy smile -
it's pajamas,
thick wool socks,
a kiss on the forehead,
a moment of home.