today i bought a book, bound in leather. i drew a girl's face, hidden by a mass of hair. that's the first time i've drawn in a long time but the first ever in that book. it felt good, pencil in hand.

she's a ghost, a colorful entity of refracted light. there's no special thing to her, but the curve of her lips and the dip of her back are burned into the brain. she carries shakespeare in her pocket and there's stars on her socks and she sits, curled in the large blue chair watching the television flicker and blur in the dark. she counts her blessings when clear rain hits the roof and makes a wish when the magnolia branch taps her window. in her free time, she sits back in the dark, her laptop light an illumination. the thoughts are too loud, mind jumbled, and she truly wonders if she was real. she blended in, a passive being, now a colorfully pale apparition. her color stained porcelain, now a colorless spirit, draining in the bathtub. no evidence of crimson or indigo or gold, a clean palette. like she believed, she never did exist.

sometimes when i see the moon

i like to pretend it's you

just sitting there across from me

but you're too far for me to reach

i pretend the deep black holes

are just your eyes

you see me

i can see you

but you don't speak

you haven't

not since half past two

you never speak

why is that?

are you too shy to speak to me?

that darling voice

it hides from me

and then day breaks

red fingers wake

you're gone for good

the moon's sweet face

is no longer yours

We may have had no money
But we were fit for kings.
We used to steal from thrift stores
And sell eclectic thngs.
Sure we fought over dinner
And you occasionally roared my name.
But how was I supposed to know
It would never be the same.
You ransacked my apartment
And didn't leave a dime,
And so I called the cops
I was running out of time.
But the cops found our salvia
Hidden underneath the stairs.
I should've told them it was yours
But by then I didn't care.
I punched one in the gut
And ran as fast as I could.
I may have been a bit too rough
But I was always misunderstood.
I found an eerie park
And hid behind the gate.
I lit my last cigarette
And filled my thoughts with hate.
I thought of the time you pushed me
In a puddle of sticky mud.
Or the time you wouldn't answer my calls
And my eyes began to flood.
The time you refused to meet my sister
Because she was fat and gay
And the time you left me at a funeral
Even though I pleaded you to stay.
I'd come to terms that you were no good
So I brushed off my hands,
Stretched, and stood.
I ran through the traffic
Finally a free soul.
I discovered it wasn't my life that you stole.
But rather my boundaries is what you unchained.
My walls were bashed inward
And now they're out again.
The world is ending
Before my eyes.
And there is no one else that I want to despise.
But I can't hate you now
You set me free.
The sun is dripping and
The ground moves shakily.
Buildings crumble and children scream
Mothers think it's just a dream.
But the earth splits in half
And I hope you're okay.
As we slip into darkness
On this eventful day.
I wake up in hell
Missing you dearly I cried.
Only to find that you're
Right by my side.

When I feel silenced I like to scream, scream at the top of my lungs, until I collapse and heave. My ribs are broken, every breath is painful. Why do we keep breathing when we know pain is coming? I wish I could die a sleepless death, without the pills or resorting to something overly drastic. Pills take too long and rot your insides. Bullets are just too messy and loud. But it's the breathtaking silence that gets me, when I want to take my own breath away. To stop the beating entity, I must be silent, but when I feel silent I like to scream. Screaming is not silent. It's the quiet game, let's see who will snap first. I thought I could get out, but getting out is just more of the same. The same bitter tones and sideways glances I despise with all my stretched  out soul. I'm worn out from the silence, but I need to be silent to break free. Maybe if I'm quiet enough you'll forget about me and move on to bigger things like curing silence instead of succumbing to it.

Tired, tired of dreaming. You see me, standing at the cliffs. I'm watching, calculating. The spray hits rock, sending it everywhere. I move too slow for this world. I am the cold ocean spray that laps the earth and corrodes it's insides. Sometimes I wish they been wrong and the earth truly was flat, and I could drop off the end of the earth, so I could spiral the distance into a deeper and darker abyss. I lift my arms, like a bird, like the black bird. But my wing is broken and it's the dead of night and I fall into the swirling entiety. My body submerged, I cannot breathe, and the cold water consumes. It fills my souls, drowning it. I feel nothing. I can't hear you now, I can't hear your words. It's too late, your lies cannot be redeemed, my lies cannot be redeemed. My anger dissolves, as if waiting, knowing I'll be pulled from the chaos. I wait for never comes. I'm cold, a face in a sea of cherub faces, a face pale and white. A floating soul out of a thousand, sweet cherub faces of peace, accepting the fate they had concieved.