can you feel it too?
my body has fallen
into beat with its
sturdy grip on my
insides. it holds me
tight as my lungs
decompress and my throat
grows tighter,
the persistent alterations
like a laugh of a child,
yet distant.
further.
far.

please tell me you feel it -
the sweat that beads
on my forehead and
pools in my grasp as
my hands are clenched
and my tongue bleeds
beneath my teeth.
red.
the red from
the dreams.
the dream so close,
so intoxicating;
the one I have wanted
to reach out with
my brittle fingers
and touch
for as long as I can
remember.
but even as my eyes grow
heavy
and my skin comes
closer
it never reaches.

how can you handle the feelings?
the hair as it scrapes
the back of my
neck a constant taunt
as my eyes glare forward
and my pulse becomes
ever so evident
in my neck.
how do you not notice
the breath as it enters
and leaves your body
faster and quicker and
without any hesitation.
you let it be like that.
you tell the air it can
maneuver beneath your skin
in rhythm with the pulsating
vessels that weave beneath
the ever changed shades
of color.

do they know what has happened
above the surface?
do they care?

please
say you feel it too.

I want you to think of me.
I hate that I want that –
That I’m thinking of you
Long enough for me to want
You to return the favor.
But here’s the thing:
I haven’t been sleeping;
Every time I close
My eyes I think of your
Eyes and your
Face and how much
I want to punch that face
In its jaw.
My anger ridden insomnia
Cannot be explained
By anything other
Then the fact that
You drive me insane
To the point where
I want nothing more than
To have you lying next to
Me in my bed,
Your arms around my waist,
Your breath on my neck,
So I can roll over
And, so easily,
Punch you
In the jaw.
Because you’re a *******.
You’ve been an ***
And your *** hasn’t
Bothered to ask me what’s
Wrong.
What’s wrong is obviously
You
And there’s no way
You
Don’t know that
But you still let my anger
Simmer
And
Boil
And
Seethe
And act like I’m the one
Making a ‘big deal
Of things’.
Well listen to me
You little ****.
I hope to god you
Know what it feels like
To have someone stuck
On your mind constantly.
I want you to think of me
When you’re driving your car
Or lying in bed
Or with someone else.
I want to be on your mind
Incessantly
And I want it
To drive you
Crazy.
Because you’re well aware
That something could have happened
If you hadn’t tried to take
Advantage of what you
Had.
I want you to know
That you’re the one that
****** up.
Not me.
For once,
It was not me.
Because I tried so hard
And you acted like my concerns
Were meaningless and
My words were suggestions.
I hate that I still think of you
When things were so close
To being so unimaginably
Bad.
It’s terrifying.
It’s terrifying that
My need for you almost
Led to pain
And fear
And hatred
That I know all too well.
I hate that you
Made me relive a
Panic that I’ve avoided
For years.
Whether or not you’re cognizant
Of what you did –
It doesn’t matter.
It happened.
It almost kept happening.
Do you realize that?
I hate that I’m thinking of you
When you turned my feelings,
The good ones I’ve worked
For so long to be able
To feel again,
Into dread.
You did that.
And I hope that,
When you’re thinking of me,
You realize that.
You realize what you did wrong
And you never
Ever
Do it to anyone else again.

I want to write about our deaths
Of how ours together will be final breaths
For this breathless exchange could never hold true
And what is purple must fade to blue

I want to write about our hearts
Both shattered and broken, torn apart
But looking at you I do not see
This evil that has been shown to me

I want to write about our hate
How being together only doubles the weight
Of life pushing down with a gruesome plan
But none of that matters when I’m holding your hand

I want to write about our need
To distance ourselves from compulsive greed
The need to escape this addictive charm
And evade your light that will lead to harm

I want to write about your smile
About how your grin is terribly vile
But sadly I do not feel that way
For when you smile, night turns to day

I do not want to write about you
For doing so admits it’s true
That you are here and so am I
And these are feelings we can never hide

Do you wander at night and hear the wisps
Of whispers drifting through the winds
When the day departs with a painful scowl
And the vile moon begins to howl.
While the night seems bleak and void of life
You can still find dear the walls of strife
That pull you down beneath the rubble
And become the source of all your trouble
With a severed limb and empty eyes
You see the result of their demise
For while their bodies lie compiled
Not a single mouth has formed a smile
All arms are broken, and fingers too
Their skin a color of expiring blue
The odor strong, the flesh degrading,
Did any know their life was fading?
For faces null do still omit
The endless cuts around the wrists
And blindness will not stop the sea
Of screams and wails, their desperate pleas.
Did life get cut too short, too soon?
Or were they awaiting impending doom?
It matters not in reality,
What’s dead is dead. Let them be free.

You tell me you’ll love me till the day I die
But what about after that?
Will your love fade while in a coffin I lay
With my intestines crawling with gnats?
And how about after when I lie in the plaster
And my body is layered in dirt
Will you love my insides as they melt as I lie
Far from a world full of hurt?
Where will your love go when my bones begin to
Break apart piece by piece?
When the sun will not reach me, and the maggots will eat me
And my body parts warp and crease?
I cannot love you when my body continues
To deteriorate inside my tomb.
My skin will start peeling and my mind will stop reeling
And my pores will unpleasantly ooze.
Your love will not help when on top of my scalp
My hair begins to fall.
It shrinks and it writhes like a worm without ease
And my eye sockets watch it all.
Will those words help with the pain that is felt
When the animals reach my face?
My once full lips are now eaten and ripped
And my features are all out of place.
And what when the odor begins to take over
With my home enveloped in rot?
The pus from my veins breaks through rusted chains
And the color? A shade I know not.
For the world in this coffin is since long forgotten
As my memory melts away
The light here is fleeting and my skin is not bleeding
As I try to end my dismay.
Your love is so distant and I no longer miss it
With reality caving in
Rats rip at my tendons as I try to blend in
Hoping they won’t find my skin.
But I hope no longer and I get no stronger
As my teeth fall off my jaw
My mouth is now bare but I no longer care
Since my gums have been eaten raw.
Does your love remain as my body’s been maimed
And my eyes have turned to gray?
The feel of my skin, the look of my grin
They’ve all withered away.
So don’t lie to yourself and say that you’ve felt
The same way for me all my life.
For while I may die, I would still be alive
And your words won’t end my strife.
So picture me there, alone and not scared
With my skin peeling off my chin
When you look at my eyes and can’t see past my demise
Tell me, will you still love me then?

It drips off your skin
like a cascading river
threatening to drown all
who come near.
It’s taste is sweet.
Too sweet.
Too tempting.
It draws me closer
when close is the last place
I should be.
It calls my name
when the wind’s too loud
and the night’s too long
and my body shakes
as I see what has been just out of my reach
for so long.
My name on your tongue
sends shivers down the spine;
unraveling me into the
coward
mess
liar
I knew I was all along.
Though as my thoughts run rampant
it continues to drip off the skin
and it doesn’t stop.
It won’t stop.

a mirror
a piece of glass
an object that
with one wrong touch
would shatter into a myriad of pieces
in a fight against my fist,
it is powerless

so tell me why
such a fragile entity
holds such power
over my life?

tell me why
my reflection
laughs at my confidence
causing the ground to quake
and my heart to flutter.
my certainty begins to dwindle
as the mirror
holds my self-esteem in its clear grasp
and cleaves from me
what little conviction
I have left

tell me why
what stares back
gives me sleepless nights
thinking about the differences
between my reflection
and that of
those surrounding me
although it shouldn’t matter that I’m different
and that I should have pride in being an individual

tell me why the shards hurt
and tear apart my skin
piece by piece
**** by ****
before the glass
has even been broken

tell me why
the eyes of others
make me feel
as if I need to change who I am
to meet their beliefs
of what a girl should be

tell me
what should a girl be?
should she be pretty and poised?
slender and tall?
curvy skin
a full face of seamless makeup?

I am a girl
who is as brave as I am smart
and who is as strong as I am beautiful
and while the shards of glass
and those behind
tell me I am not
I know my place
I know my purpose

sadness isn’t just something you keep to yourself -
it’s a ******* infection.

it comes out with every word, every breath,

every whisper and every tear.

it leeches off you like a plague

and spreads from the pain you leave behind.

it goes after the ones you care about most,

threatening to bring them down with you.

mocking you.

taunting you.

until there’s silence -

an overwhelming silence that pounds in your skull and attacks your heart.

it’s hot but chilling.
it’s painful but deserving.

it eats away at what little of you is left.

it doesn’t slow.
it doesn’t stop.

until there’s nothing left for the sickness to prey upon.

until the silence wins its game.

some days I wonder-
how much of me is really left?
I've been eroding away, nonstop;
does my soul still see the light?

I was dusk and you were dawn,
you were the knight while I was a pawn.
so as you rose I began to set,
the night consumed by horrific threats.
I couldn't move, I couldn't see -
the night had taken control of me.
I struggled, I wept, I became insane,
but to you up above, I was just a game.
I began to beg, I started to plea,
for you to help - to set me free.
so when the darkness let me drown,
you didn't know, for you weren't looking down.

I blame my ignorance
for my view on reality;
my hopes were so high,
but now they've become
my d
            o
               w
                   n
                      f
                         a
                             l
                                l.

how did you not notice the lack of smiles?
they've been gone,
hardly seen for a while.

how did you not notice the silent air?
the inhumane peace,
the ice-cold stare.

how did you not notice the bloodshot eyes?
from up all nights,
from desperate cries.

how did you not notice the lack of soul?
the once beating heart
has resulted to coal.

how did you not notice my wearing away?
you didn't care,
nothing more to say.

I.
a wide open space.
empty.
except for a lone chair.

II.
a large variety of colors.
some yellow.
some blue.
all closed.

III.
the curtains
have been closed
for a while now.
it has solemnly
seen light.

IV.
it has stories
that have never
bothered to be
discovered.

V.
it is not
the stories'
fault.

VI.
the chair
has given up
on the thought
of being accepted.

VII.
the spines of
the books
are wearing away.
not as much from
being old as to
being ignored.

VIII.
there is no electricity.
the lights burned out
a while ago,
and no one bothered
to replace them.

IX.
the floor is shadowless.
it is opening,
but enclosing.

X.
the stories are
lathered
in dust.

XI.
even though
they've been
disregarded,
the paper cuts
just as bad
when it slices
your hand.

XII.
you can hear
the sound of
retreating
footsteps,
too afraid of
what lies inside
the binding.

XIII.
I am left alone.
encased
in the wood
of the bookshelves.

You're the reason why I never let my guard down.
You're the reason I can't sleep at night.
You're the reason I don't let people get to know who I am.
You're the reason I try to forget.
You're the reason why I've lost my sense.
You're the reason I've failed.
But-
You're the reason I've chosen the right people.
You're the reason I can finally put matters to rest.
You're the reason why only the best people know me.
You're the reason that I know remembering is best.
You're the reason why I've come back stronger.
In the end,
You're the reason I've triumphed.

five* for the people who torture with ease
four for the ones who pretend they don't see
three for the ones who believe what they say
two for my 'friends' who just walked away
and then there's the one who will never be free
*one is the number that stands for me

I hate how
we're the generation
who's confidence
can drop
from the number
of likes
on a picture
;

Birth.
Breathe.
First sight.
Exploring this world all through the night.

Young.
Small.
Innocent.
Oblivious to the world he's in.

Speak.
Laugh.
Learn to walk.
Knows nothing of how his peers will talk.

School.
Start.
Feels cursed.
Years go by and the words get worse.

Run.
Fear.
Completely alone.
His tears will be forever known.

Grown.
Old.
No threat.
But the words they said he'll never forget.

It comes without warning;
you can't choose whether
or not it happens to you.
It's a calling.
The act of someone needing you,
not someone else,
but you.
You are the hero they need
to save them,
before there's nothing left to save.
You stay up late trying to find ways to become this hero.
You and the caller talk as long as the caller wants.
While this might not be the ideal situation for the hero,
they do it anyways in order
to make sure the caller doesn't end.
The hero swoops in at every situation they can,
trying to convince the caller;
trying to say how much they're needed.
Many times,
they succeed.
The caller decides they want to see another day.
They want to stay strong.
That gives the hero relief,
and only pushes them to try harder.
But,
there always seems to be one final time
when the hero's too late.
This is the time where it's not only the caller's end,
but the hero's, too.
The hero hits zero;
the hero doesn't want to continue
when they know how they
could've prevented this.
And that's when the cycle restarts-
the only difference being the hero
is now the caller.
The new hero,
on the other hand,
unknowingly waits for the call;
the call that could save a hero's life.