sometimes i wonder
if i've ever crossed your mind,

maybe i'm only a quick thought,

maybe you might think my hair looks pretty, or that my eyes turn green in the light,

maybe it's just a fleeting glance,
so quick it makes you dizzy,

maybe i'm just a "I think I've seen her before"

or "she was in that class I had"

or maybe you've spent hours wondering what my favorite movie was or what it would feel like to hold my hand,

And maybe,
maybe you've never
thought about me at all

i wish i could scream,
let every alcohol-soaked emotion out,
i wish that i could shout
until every tissue in my throat tore apart,

because i see you everywhere
especially places i'm not,
and it kills me, it ******* kills me,
because all i want is to be yours,
but that will never happen,
and i want to lay down and give up,

i don't love you,
i need you,
but you will
never need me

i love it.

the pain,
the absolute torture,
of my heart ripping itself up,

at first i hated all it entailed,
but now i **** up for fun,
because the shockwaves of aching
is what keeps me up a night,

it livens my body,
i walk around in pieces,
yet i've learned to live with being unfinished,

and maybe it won't get better,
but at least i've learned to love the pain

i'm watching a movie
in which you're the
damaged soul,

and i'm the stupid
girl who tried to
fix you

once this is over,
and i have no distractions left,
i'll be forced to come to terms
with my biggest fear,


myself

you say you love me,
but you don't even
know me

you told me not to cry,
so i cried harder

you left the lights on,
but they weren't for me,

you left dinner out,
but it wasn't mine,

you left the t.v. on,
but it wasn't playing my shows,

you left piles of clothes on the front porch,
but those were definitely mine

you look at them once,
and automatically you
know everything there
is to know.

but what gives
you the right?

the right to label
someone based on
their sexuality,
their mentality or
their physical appearance.

who said you were
important enough to
judge others?

you are not the
high or mighty.

so stop acting
like something
your not.

there are two
clocks on the wall
and neither work.

there are one
million thoughts
in my head
and none are worth it.

sometimes i wonder
is it worth it?

to count the minutes, the
seconds, until time is up.

why measure
life in increments
when i can measure it in
memories?

the squeals that
left my lips as
dad chased me
around the house
as a dragon,
the sweet sent
of lavender and
candy flavored kisses.

what about the hum
in my lungs as i tentatively
kissed the boy
i loved and gave him
everything i shouldn't have?

the proud look in
my mother's eyes as
i left home with
my bags packed?

the boys i talked to,
the friends i laughed with,
the nights i wasted
and the ones i didn't…

could these really
have an expiration date?

i'm always too little
i'm always too much
all i ever wanted,
was to be just enough

brought down,
in need of fixing

between every short pause,
there's silence for a second,
and in that silence i know
you're talking to her,
and no, everything won't be
alright.

they all sat there
asking themselves why.

why does time keep
going even though
i want it to stop?

why does the future
seem so abstract
until it hits you full on?

why are careers and
diplomas and degrees
so important in determining
who you are?

these questions without
answers whirl around
their heads,

they stop their eating,
dreaming, cleaning,
and make sure they
never get out of bed.

the questions we ask
ourselves, can't be
answered out loud,

it is only by living
our lives, that these
answers can be
found.

how can i walk
a mile in your shoes
when they haven't
even left the
shoe-box?

thoughts have
a way of being
your only friend
when no one else
is there to hear
you talk. they're
the kind of friend
who criticizes your
choices, even if they
may be the right ones,
and the ones who tear
apart all shreds of
self confidence you
once had. in the end,
you think your thoughts
are a good friend, but in
reality, they're you biggest
enemy.

happy people
become unhappy
when they begin
to question why
they were happy
in the first place

if the one you love,
makes you hate yourself,
then their not doing a good
job of loving you

you my
dear are
injured in
the worst
way

life's
struggles
broke both
legs, and
now alcohol
is your crutch

the night
is our day,
and gin
is our water,
loose morals
are our morals,
and love
is forbidden,

we had a path
that was
supposedly
good,

but why walk
a straight line,
when zig zags
sound better

one big tear in
the fabric of society,
the shut ins,
the outsiders,
the comic book geeks,
the gamers,
the carefree lovers,
the jokers,
they all want to fit in,
but why would you
want to be on the inside?
the biohazard *******,
and ken dolls aren't cool,
they're cruel.

you were beethoven,
i was the piano and it's keys,
it's a travesty really,
how easy it was for you to play me

between the two
of us i believe
it was me who
was in the wrong.
you would shout,
and shout, and shout,
but all i would do
is listen to
your shouting
with a numbness
that scares me.
i don't if you love
me because i know
deep down you
always loved  
him more and that
was always okay,
until it wasn't.

this silence
is truly violent
and i can't
hear over
your
deaf lips
speaking
false words

humans
are
afraid
of
anything
they
can't
explain

she
simply
wanted
to
be
a
raindrop,
and he
simply
needed
an
umbrella.

it's easier to trip,
than it is to
catch yourself

just like it's
easier to fall
in love, than
fall out of it

it was really ******* cold outside,
and i was really ******* drunk,
i was sad too,
really ******* sad

someday the rumors will be true,
and you'll be in love,
but it won't be with me.

some of the
most beautiful
things
started from
the ugliest
of devastations.

don't get me wrong,
i'm not much of a dreamer,
but dreaming about him once
in awhile wouldn't be so bad

i loved him in pure, unadulterated innocence,
whilst knowing he was anything but innocent,
and that's quite alright

i'm paralyzed between the fears
of being a nobody,
or letting the pressures of being
a somebody get to my head

my mind says,
'i don't need a man',
but my heart
begs to differ.

i don't know how i feel anymore.
i have too many doubts, and hopes,
and promises. an abundance of dreams
that may or may not come true, and
more than enough heartbreak that may
**** me in the end.

i am an empty body,
and a harsh mind.

they called you prince charming,
but i believe a real prince is noble,
and honest.

not a liar or a cheater.

i'm just another teenaged runaway
with no hope for society.

you can only love so many times,
before you can't love anything at all.

the only synonym
for love i know of
is heartbreak

loose lips
tinged with
alcohol,
and
questionable
morals fill the
spaces left
unoccupied
by my
ever-working
brain. shall
i fall off the
bandwagon
filled with
future scholars
and high class
aristocrats?
will i let myself
astray into the
void of heavy
masked, and
dark-clothed
mischief makers
that take up
residence in
abandoned
buildings
drinking
the bad
times away?
i can't decide
if i wanna
tighten the classy
business casual
tie around
my neck
as a noose,
or take a
walk on
the wild
side and
instead get
crushed by
the emotions
that accompany
free *** and
large alcohol
consumptions.

if choosing the path to freedom is your choice,
than freedom truly is a double-edged sword.

their eyes were the
shattered kind,
flecks of pain
and happiness
mixed together
as one. sort-of like
a paint by numbers,
yet way more
complicated with
multiple hidden points
of depth, of history,
the stories begging
against the steel
lining of their minds,                
almost like prisoners
waiting for freedom.
no stories come out though,
because if the stories,
the memories, the pain,
if it were allowed to
come out, then everything
would fall apart. the
very weak bond holding
the gates to their agony,
would burst into
small, disorientated, fragments
of years trying to forget
what happened, and all
that perished long ago
would rush furiously to
the forefront of their mind
like a riptide. all the torturous
thoughts they've worked
so hard to repress
would come back to haunt
them in the worst
of ways...

he would start
to love her again, and
she would start to drown.

it's funny how
all those years
of blowing away
eye lashes, and
dandelions, and
blowing out
birthday candles,
never really works.