And perhaps
the reason we cherish photos so much
is because they never change
even when the people in them do,
and that is truly beautiful

He was her deranged fantasy-
and she was his beautiful sin

Even though he's gone, he's not.
He's everything.
He is the city lights talking in morse code,
flickering on and off at different intervals.
He is the song playing on the radio that you love
so much, but it will always hurt to hear.
He is the tap-tap-tapping of your pen when you're bored in
class and your pen knocks on the table like a palpitating heartbeat.
He is the slight breeze when you're stuck in a summer haze,
and the chilly bite of cold raindrops on your face.
He will never be gone, in any sense of the word.
But he is gone, now.

For whoever reads this,

The first person I ever loved was not myself, but him, and maybe that was my biggest mistake.

I learned to love the dimple on his cheek, and the lines under his eyes when he smiled.
I learned to love the way his eyes turned angry when we yelled at each other, to love the way his hands tightened around my arms.
I loved the way his lips lingered on my skin after begging me to peel off my layers of my clothes.
I dug up every little piece of who he was, and planted it inside my heart.
I kept love for him everywhere I went, and even when he left me, my heart was still full.
I had put so much effort into loving him, that I forgot to love myself.
I saw no beauty unless the beauty I saw was his eyes, I saw no greater happiness, than when I saw his smile.

So, whenever I looked in the mirror, I felt numb, I felt hate.

I could not love the way my hair got wavy when it was damp, even though I always twirled pieces of his hair in my fingers.
I could not feel sweet melancholy when tears ran down my face, but I could when I wiped away his.
I could not get undressed and look at my skin, because it was only worth looking at when he looked.

I could not love myself, because I thought it was supposed to be fulfilled by someone else.

I had become nothing but a daisy, waiting for my petals to be picked, he loves me, he loves me not.

I only ever felt love, when it was given to me by someone else.
I could not feel love if it was given to me by myself.

I could only love me when he loved me, but now he doesn't.

He loves her.

a cry for help.
                                                           ­                                                people
who were
                                                            ­                          touched
                         because of the actions of
                                             people.
              tragic.                                    ­                           unnecessary.



a young
                         girl.



                                                    she is ten years old.
                                    she is moody.
she is sad.
       she is angry.                                                           ­  because he
                                                        takes.­



                                                             ­                       why?

                                    ­                                                                 ­      suicide
   is the result

she wants
                                                                               depression.



she is gambling with death.                                                                 she
                                                        believes                the
            empty pill bottle is
                                                                                            her wish.


                                                                 the girl may
lose the gamble.


                 suicide                                  is not
                           the
                                            way.
                                                                                         suicide
         may manipulate
                                                               others
                                                  thinking

                                                                            one can be master.


                                         suicide.

I realized we were always meant to crash and burn
when I wanted to wrap myself around you like a tree.

There was a silence between us.
Frustrated, angry gazes burning one another
like water never seemed to exist.
Like air stopped,
and the temperature only ever raised.

Maybe I loved you in another life
and promised I'd find you on the other side.

He was my person.

The one who made me feel vulnerable
and indestructible at the same time.
The one I would die for,
and die without.

You called two night ago
but I didn't answer.

You texted me yesterday
but I didn't wanna talk to you.

You tell me that you're homeless
and try to make me feel bad
but I don't

I can't

I won't

I'm mad that I believed you
when you said you were done

You lied and I believed you

How stupid of me

Because you never change

You never have

And you never will.



Sincerely,

                                                       your daughter.

I've just told you that you don't love me... and I'm waiting on a reply.
I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I was never enough for you, and I'm sorry that you have always deserved better, but I tried, okay? I tried to be the best for you. I tried to be the best version of me, but I still don't know who that is or what she is like, all I know is that she has to exist. Somewhere. Somehow. She has to. Because I know that there is the worst of me, so there has got to be the best of me too. I can't keep living this way. I can't keep pretending to be someone that I'm not. I cannot continue being everyone's second thought, never their first. I can't keep waking up and hating myself. It feels like I wake up with God on speed dial, but he's ignoring my calls. I send him texts like, "Hey God, I know that you're busy and all, but could you maybe help me out here? Send me a sign of what I am supposed to do because I'm lost. I'm hurting. I love you. Thank you." And then an hour goes by, and I figure he's just busy. Then the day's gone, and then the week. Now it's months later and I'm still receiving the voicemail. God, can't you see I'm in pain. The bible says that "God loves all of his children" but if that's true, why aren't you answering me? I'm sorry to be questioning you and your presence in my life, but the devil has a tight hold on me right now. He has for years now, but I always run back to you, and I'm so blessed that you open your arms for me every single time. God, I'm sorry. Please forgive me. I know you have bigger plans for me, but I am not living up to them right now. God, I'm so so sorry. I'm sorry, and I understand if you're ashamed of me. I understand if you feel anger towards me, or you hate me. Because I do too. Most days I forget to count the blessings you've given me, and all I do is focus on the bad so God, PLEASE GRAB ME AND PULL ME BACK IN. I AM SO LOST WITHOUT YOU. I LOVE YOU. I'M SORRY.

I want to grab the bottle
with the clear liquid inside
and drown my sorrows
leave them no place to hide

My body
my brain
it no longer belongs to me
and I come to realize this
when I see my body as it bleeds

It starts as a drip
then a trickle
then a pour
so I watch the blood seep from my body
and I whisper for it, "More"

Why did you have to leave
why did you have to go
why did you pick her instead of me
to give your love
body
and soul

Why her
why not me
what about all of our plans we had
all of our dreams

We were supposed to get old together
and have our kids
the dogs were there too
they would've been their bestfriends

We would have had our house
on our piece of land we'd bought
and our kids would have learned
to love
and to laugh
from all that we'd taught

But ****
I guess it's all gone now
'cause you chose her instead of me
and yeah I'll smile
and I'll laugh
'cause I don't want you to see me bleed

I will remember you always
and I will love you through the struggle
and the pain
and I'll cry for you during thunderstorms
so my tears mix with the rain