I now find myself feeling a bit ill, when I'm complimented on my
words, touch or skill
I fear they are all to love of me
and someone (a little voice in my head)
told me today
that your truest loves would love you even if you could do nothing but sit still

but I still find myself being scared of not being enough
though I am constantly moving

there's something about rawness
i can't help but plunge my fingers into
even though I know it'd be best to just let it heal

if I let myself feel the pain
from it's edges to its pulpy-est parts
I fear I'd never be able
To put the pieces back together the way they were at the start
And I cannot decide whether this would be a blessing or a curse

Whether I would be a phoenix
Or just ashes

I want to feel beautiful but
I don't want it to take
Skin and bones (but still **** and ***) to achieve it

I am heartbroken for the majority of me that used to believe my only worth in this world
Was to be a pretty thing

That my thoughts really didn't matter
My feelings, my tears, should be hidden
Beneath shame and bruises
Whatever it took, as long as it was kept inside
Rather than surface
And possibly be perceived as ugly

I am me
This is my skin
This is the stuff beneath it
****** and (maybe) ugly

But maybe,
Beneath it,
One of the most beautiful things that can be found in this world
Something to be seen beyond eyes
Something to be revered despite public disgust

And maybe, just maybe
It didn't matter whether it was pretty or not after all

hell now is a place that once tasted a lot like heaven
I'm burning up in rays I once basked in

its mornings when the cold stings my nose
and the smoke fizzling off the end of my cigarette
burns my bloodshot eyes
that i can't see a thing out of because i just took my contacts out after passing out with them in that i remember
i am ******
and the world is still
just as frigid and grey as before
but it is early
and i will shut the world out in blackeness
bury myself beneath covers
and pray for blue skies once i open my eyes
but anything will be contrast against
the view of my inner eyelids

I never want them
To know I struggled

They loved me so much

But I want others to know I have struggled despite this love

I am afraid to love someone like me
I am afraid to admit that I am someone like me
Someone who has thought of taking life into her own hands
When the world will not stop spinning (but I haven't touched a drop)

His words were flowers disguised as bullets
And she spoke in flowers that hid the knives beneath her tongue
And they lived like this until she could no longer hold the taste of blood in her mouth

I'm sick of waking up hungover, sober, sad, anxious, self diagnosed hypomanic (the therapist and psychiatrist say it's a no)
Downright, not right
But there's nothing to do
But to pry the sheets from my being
Pray for the best
And wade myself though it

I refuse to, but
I want to drink very much at the moment
There is something about the dulling of my senses that helps make me feel more present
Finally, not feeling overstimulated
Distracted by my own morbid imagination
I just want to be normal
And sometimes it feels like it's the magic potion
But I know it's really poison
So I refuse to sip
(But goodness can I hear that clock tick, reminding me of every moment I waste white knuckling through the present)

Letter to my body and soul:

I am so sorry for everything I've put you through. I can't believe you guys are still there for me despite how I've treated you.

Thank you.

I am tired of smiling
I am always looking for something to smile for
Any respite from this brain
But just as much because maybe it'll make others happy too

But the corners of my mouth are cramping
Cramping into a grimace

And I am tired of grimacing

I am tired of myself

I want nothing more in this world than to have a family

It's been my dream since I was probably too young to be thinking of such things

But I waited, and now at 24, the naivety that made that future glow seems to be dimming

Sometimes I don't know if I want to put children on this Earth

Knowing what they will have to witness on the news
Knowing they could be part of those events too

That they will likely need to work their butts off until they die
And all I can do is pray they can find a job they halfway like

Knowing there's a good chance I'm going to be working at a job that may make me not be able to be as present for them as I'd like to be, just so I can make enough money for their dad and I to make ends meet; I always hoped to be a stay at home mom and make them my priority

I want the best for them, and although I'd do my best, I still feel guilty that they'd have to experience the inevitable darkness in this world at one point or another

Is it selfish to bring kids into this world that we live in?

I can't write when I want to
Only when I need to

Oh
I'm just so original
And quirky
And "not like the other girls"

Oh I'm just so sad,
So sad
So, so sad.

You felt like home
You kicked me out
Now I'm afraid to go back to my own house
Forced to construct a home of my own with nothing but ****** knees and the shirt on my back
But despite the weather I weathered through it
It takes twice as much work to get this place warm
But I'm finding it's well worth it

He's okay
She's okay
They're okay
But I am not
People live their lives and I am ******* in mistakes
From their minds I've been erased
While they plague both my waking and sleeping thoughts
They continue to kiss as before
I do the same
Just with total lack of feeling
My love can't tell the difference
I am a hopeless romantic
As in when things are actually working out
I have to wreck it
In life, there is no perfection
And I have no patience for less

I remember in third grade
My perception snapped as if suddenly waking from dream (this dream being childhood)
I realized I was wider both ways than the girls in my class I found my gaze linger on
So I began to hold in my stomach at all times
Bedtime became uncomfortable due to being unused to relaxed muscles
Feeling failure flood me every centimeter that grew between my spine and my belly button

When I asked myself why exactly I'm still doing it, knowing beauty isn't the most important thing in the world and that I am tired and uncomfortable
I hear my brain answer
"Well, it'd be rude not to", and though I know it isn't true, I can't imagine filling this belly with air without the feeling of flooding.

I have some more to work on.

"I am not your fetish!"
I never thought of you that way
And it breaks my heart you felt that was the truth
I loved you beneath your skin more than anything else I loved about you

I pray you never feel this hurt again

I never felt more complete when I was with you
Which meant I never felt more incomplete than when you left
Please, don't fill my mind with ideas
Of you coming back
Of us being us again
I am just starting to feel like
Maybe I could be whole on my own

I don't want to write poetry anymore
I don't want to feel the need to
I just want to be me without feeling the need to explain myself  (mostly for myself since nobody knows I have this site)

I think I was only made to be a mother
But this century is telling me to be more
And I'm scared I can't

Maybe I can be the girl you want me to be

If I always get a chance to fall asleep after you so I get a chance to cry and comfort myself if I need to

If you look away long enough for me to sneak a chill pill

If you can accept my tenseness because I'm too afraid to shake in front of you

If you can take me slowly changing, losing my kindness and softness

To cater to your calloused heart

And probably, all of this would still not be enough

i want you in every way
internally
with a movment of hips
externally
strokes from fingertips
spiritually
our bodies but mere shells
enompassing souls that tap on chest cavities
i mistook it for my heart fluttering
i don't believe in love at first sight
but it was something
i fear it was
old souls reconnecting

Sometimes I get so angry at the world for tearing us apart
And so sad

I guess it's time
To smoke another bowl
Find another new antidepressant
Discover and create new pieces of myself
So I may forget the pieces this universe has stolen from me
This cruel world that sometimes I think knows what is best for me
And others I feel is this uncaring, unfeeling thing

And I guess this time, I should not let my chin slide over my shoulder on my way out of your life
But despite my wishes, I hear my neck snap in selfish opposition

One day, again, it will grow stiff
And maybe then the universe will turn to me again with it's arms open

honey, you can't save anyone but yourself and honey,
nobody can save you but yourself.

I'm stronger than you think, you know.

I will bloom despite the snow.

I have found happiness in solitude
The more I love myself, the less I love you
I anxiously await your return from work
Only have my heart lurch up my throat as the world, so you perceive, spits on you
I've spent too much of my time
My money
My positive energy
Myself
On you
Only for you to realize that
Nobody will love you the way that I do
You've changed your ways
It's far too late
But I can't let go
You told me if I did we would have wasted our youth
At times I feel I already have
What do I have to lose

I saw bars around me and thought "prison"
Just realized it was a cradle
And I could climb out whenever I decided to

hedonism has lead me to want nothing but
more
just this once turns into
anytime, anywhere
happiness is relative
sadness is unfathomable
because there is always a fix
always a high
sorry I've been acting so low
I preach that not all who wander are lost
but i happen to be
to live a life dependent on selfish highs
or regret every decision I don't make

i hate the way i say "i love you"
before even finishing the i
i am waiting on you
to tell me not what i need you to know
but what i needed to hear

I really think sometimes
I was born to be an artist

This brain
This heart
These sleepless nights

But these hands
Tremble through every art piece
And spasm across strings
throat or instrument
And the words I write
I know, aren't as good as they feel getting out

But
I must remember
That's what art is
Art is your soul escaping you

Even if the end product, you can't stand to look at or listen to

Art is soul escaping from body

And if you

Or I in this matter

Can't appreciate that

Well, you thought you knew what art was

But you don't

What can you do for a friend
Whose life they feel is unraveling in their hands
But hold them strong until they get their head above the depths

This isn't good enough for me
I can't sleep knowing there is suffering

I am so scared though,
I'm running out of energy
To even make myself smile
I feel every centimeter as if it is a mile
And my check engine light is broken

Hello
I am
The ugly friend
Would you like to fall in love with me
And then leave me when you meet the souls of the goddesses I am so lucky to call my friends?

alcohol
it's the devil
i swear upon my own future grave

it whispers in your ear like sin
(perhaps that's because that is it's other name)

it tells you
"i'll make you forget about what ails you, off to sleep I'll sail you"
but restless waking and sleep i'll give you, it forgets to mention

but maybe it didn't lie,
you just refused to remember it

or perhaps you did, but it was worth the temporary renderment

after night upon night of retching it's poision, the thoughts flooding back from your stomach
you remember, you always come back to your footing
and each step is little more painful than it was the night before, and you can't seem to get used to it

but please, you must remember, you must avoid the temptation,

you can overcome anything
you have overcome everything
you thought you never could
thus far

you have come this far

refuse, refuse to let alcohol, or anything else, become your end

(be it physically or emotionally)

you are worth the mending
and like a muscle
each time you exercise the discomfort
(in these terms of loving yourself, in refusing numbing these feelings, which you must remember, are a part of yourself)

it will hurt less

it will become easier

it will be worth it.

There's a special place in my heart for people like you

The one that makes me not trust genuinely nice people

The one that makes me feel like I will never be good enough

The one that makes me feel undeserving of love

This pit in my stomach is a black hole
Threatening to absorb all of the light in my life

I know regret will get me nowhere, but maybe this is something different.

I can't believe I so wholeheartedly gave away pieces of myself to others in the hopes that someday, I'd become whole.

For a while, I imagined myself as a vessel
A vessel containing unconditional love, and that it was my job to fill everyone's cup
This kept me alive

But this vessel is cracking
And she's scared that nobody will love her when they see her smile cracking
When they see her cracking

A vessel can only hold so much, can only be dropped so many times, placed in the garage, forgotten and then remembered again, before she begins to question her worth.

From now on, I am the vessel, and I am the cup.

would you ever expect a girl who loves so hard
to hate herself?
or would it be very obvious?

we sit across each other in a restaurant, amber-lit and quiet like a tawny dusk
glasses sweating, limbs loosening
i smile like the moon and like an unfortunate dawn her name unfolds across your lips
you say, in not so many words, "you are deep too, but her, she was different"
the words of my therapist ring in my ears, "you've curated a seamless mask for yourself; i can't express how grateful I am to be the one person you've let in behind it"
should i let you in? i thought i already had
but surely then you'd know I am a black hole, how could this girl have been any more, any less?
perhaps it is because she could put words to her thoughts and feelings but i just find myself swimming in silence
i am left in sudden darkness
when i realize that she may be your sun
and even if not
i am a moon
and it appears you need light just as much as i do
maybe we just were not made for one another

the only thing that my future guarantees
is that i will still be haunted by its uncertainty
and plagued by a past spent with my fists clenched trying to enjoy the present

it feels like
the effort and love I put forth
is not reciprocated
but I know I too, need my breaks

I can't tell if I am being too forgiving
or too harsh

I've lived too many lives

Been too many different people

I just want to figure out what my life looks like, and live it

Figure out who I am, and be her

behind closed doors
i sit in nothing
but a pair of headphones
inhale magic smoke from my crystal
let her caress my lungs for
seven seconds before i
exhale her out the window
a shadow of what she once was
giving her life for my happiness
inevitably iridescent
i tiptoe to my bed and submerse myself beneath covers
letting the bass control the rhythm of my heart
because for once somethings giving it a start
i couldn't care any less if it killed me
i'm makeupless
void of vision
or senses in every sense of the word
i'm breathless and sleepless
i crave sweet release
but can't even form a thesis

You hate me,
don't you?
and I'm not pretty enough
to fight for,
I know
I'm sorry I could never be what you deserve

and maybe the saddest part
is that I could have been
if only I pushed myself harder

but then my face would be pressed so far into the ground
my bones would have broken
flesh would have peeled from my face

where
is the in-between
I've never lived it
But I know that,
That is where I would thrive

I dream of it,

It waltzes on my lips, between the folds of my never tired brain

And that place, I fear more than anything, is the one state
I'll never have the gas to get to

Let myself go?
I have been fighting to live
Not just survive
So if a couple of pounds is my punishment
I will take it
With a side of fries

Sit with me
By the river
Beneath the stars

Tell me all the things
I don't want to hear
In a voice softer than the whisper of the water wisping pasts the stones our toe tips touch

I want to hear a voice to the things that want to make the least noise
I want you
Even if the sounds we make are not always beautiful
Even if it doesn't sound like water wisping past stones in a river

you think you know
how loud this voice goes
how low
you haven't the slightest clue
the damage I could do
when you hurt what this heart gaurds