I'm sitting on the ******* toilet crying and all I think is I that I need to write. Ihadve to write. I am not good enough .I havenever been good enough but in this space, when I write IAMGOOD. I am a not pretty or **** or desirable but I am an author and if that's not enough *******. You'll probably end up in my words anyway

I am broken glass, causing pain to anyone who comes close enough to try.

I am a scared girl, a woman who is terrified of commitment. I used to see happiness. Now I simply see a bottomless pool and my pockets are filled with rocks as I sink into the blackness.

I used to love so fiercely that it burned holes in our hands and left scars on our lips. Now I run, faster and further and don't stop until the distance between us is a chasm.

If you fall for me be warned. I do not know how to love back. When I hurt you, when I sleep with someone whose name is not yours or I disappear it is not because you weren't good enough. I just don't know how to love back.

He taught me that promises lie and that they will hurt you. It's inevitable.

I will sting you with my words. I will make you ache for my warmth when I turn my back. You'll ask why when you find out I slept around.

Hurting you before you leave. I'm sorry, but it's the only way I know how to survive.

Hi

So when you're sitting there
being all hipster and
sinking into your coffee
and melting into your folk/blues/alt music
And you just get it.
Heaven or hell or inbetween doesn't matter because I'm here and this day, this breeze, this song is heaven.

And when things turn to **** and you turn to *** or a beer or a joint or a poem an you inhale and you breathe and you realize that
even during the crap is heaven
even when you are going through hell it's still happiness

And if everything is connected and we are all inverse of each other than good and bad are same and love and hate is same and all is important and all is nothing
Sometimes we act a certain way to fit in and then we realize who we are

Sometimes you just need to be alone
Headphones in music blocking the world
Wrapping yourself in a blanket
Pablo Neruda on your lap

Sometimes it's so so so good to just breathe and marvel and song and write and read and be
Just be

Why is it that us poets, people of such passion are so often the ones clutching the bottle at the end of the night as we crawl into bed alone?

Why are we the ones searching for someone to **** because we never get any farther than that. Some call it home run but a hug is much more satisfying.

And we're the ones who cyber stalk and listen to music and pour out ours hearts and scream at the top of lungs and go on midnight runs.

And I have no one I can explain this to. No one I an call and cry poetry too and no one I am yell at and no one to love and no one to hate. And I thought it would work. I thought maybe I would get lucky and meet someone whose heart whispered the same things as mine.

Once upon a time in a far away land a princess met her prince. But tonight right here a young woman is simply begging for anything, anyone.

I want to be whole she screams as she stabs the knife into her heart taking out another chunk

I went to school and got cupcakes with friends, went shopping. Drank and played phase ten. And the loneliness catches up to me

And poetry is the Chapstick for my dry heart. But I want it to be your words. And music may be the key to my tired eyes but I would rather hear your voice.

And this is not enough I scream. These words this tune this hope. I need more. I want more and I deserve more.
Right?

And that little question is what kills me why bruises my bones and breaks my grin. It is what causes my eyes to fill and water to fall.
Rain is my favorite season but sometimes the sun is nice too.

I read once that when we meet our soul mate we feel calm.
At peace, at home.
And I think that makes sense, I have always been an empty road, a drifting sea.
And to find land, that would be my sou mate.

I want someone to look at me the way the sky looks at the earth.
And I want to be talked to the way Jack White sings.
And I want to be loved the way my voice breaks when I read poetry.
And when you take me into your arms and when you break my bones with your words and when I explode in the heat of your touch, I love you.

I do not know you and logically I do not love you.
But dear god,your poetry is the sugar in my coffee and it has made me okay.
And tonight, I love you.I want to take your hands into mine.
I will recite you Pablo Neruda and my love poems. I will fix you coffee or tea and I will lay beside you until the loneliness leaves both of our hearts and pur souls meet in a binding that only two broken people can understand.
You are a star in the sky that says make a wish and you are the words that I want to be. You are powerful. Powerful beyond measure and although I have never seen your face I know that it is the most beautiful in this universe.
If I am glass and coffee and late nights then your words are a balm for my aching heart and a salve for my beating head.
And I, I am simply lucky enough to be able to bask in the fever of your prose.

I don't want to do this anymore and the voices in my head that tell me that I am doing it all wrong are back and they are screaming at me every second of the day and i miss a boy who broke my heart and doesn't want me and I must be ****** up to want him and my sister is killing herself and if I don't do something then she may be gone forever but if I do something then I will lose her forever because she will never forgive me and my other sister is being so fake and I hate myself and the guy I kind of like got a boyfriend and I fall in love with poetry and storms and laughs but they don't love me back and I am starting to realize that they won't because who could love a girl who is as broken as glass and why why why is this happening I am not asking you to save me but I could use a half because I was drowing earlier and all I could do was fall deeper

I wish it had rained earlier and that I had gotten soaked to the bones. I cried it out in the shower but it wasn't the same as dancing it away in the rain.
Every single thing I do is ******* things up. If the rain is heaven the me dancing in it creates a tornado, destroying everything in my path.
I just wanted to get rid of the pain.
I collapsed because sometimes the weight of the water pushes you down until you're not just sinking but your drowning.
I swallow the storm until it flooded out my throat and eyes and nose and then I continued shoving it deep inside me.
Sometimes death feels so sweet.
So so sweet

My friend Morgan and I have not been very close at all.
But he's been nice to me again in the past few days and although my heart still craves Trevor I want to call for my friend.
And we talked about Trevor and about when we get stressed out and I admitted how bad I've been lately and how I moss being friends and I ****** it all up byoving in didn't I. I did.
But when he said no I wanted to believe him and when he said nothings changed I almost said that may be true for him but not for me because I used to get butterflies stuck in my throat when I thought of him and sometimes my lips still think of how sweet his words sound and if they would taste that sweet in my throat.
I wanted to say that everything's changed because I had fallen for you and that's why it ***** because I live here and not saying you would want to but now we cannot be together and I thought maybe we would have nights spent not talking but just watching Netflix and I thought maybe I wouldn't be so lonely and I am so sorry that I fell for the boy at the wrong time.
When I said that the guys that are decent never want me back I was talking about you.
I was talking about you

I do not want to go sleep alone in my bed and
yes
I realize that my
sister sleeps
there but she is not
strong arms holding me.
I heard his voice tonight and he called her baby. And I don't want to be someone's baby. But I would love to be his.
I hate myself for missing him but he s stuck to me like that Lego piece was stuck to Emmet in the movie.
Except I don't think I want to be
the special

My tears are streaming down to my knees and I am screaming into my blanket covered fist and I want my friend to come out of his room and I want to hug him and say I am not okay I am not okay.
What am I to do when my heart is braking because I cannot make it whole and I'm hungry and I miss you and I hate hate hate hate myself because how fun led up must I be to want you back in my life and how terrible am I that when she talks about "almost killing" herself I just want to scream do it and I DO NOT want to be alone and how brave would I be to knock on his door or to text him and then what. I am no good at beginnings. But dude. I'm at a expert at endings.
I am an expert at a endings.

I have been missing you and I'm still in love with you. I am so scared and I wish I could just talk to you one more time. I wish I could just kiss you and let the world end around us. I wish that you weren't bad for me and I wish that you loved me back. I don't think you're capable of love but I like to think that if you were then you would love me. I haven't seen you in months but I feel you every time I think of what we were. I thought I saw you the other night at work and I almost had a panic attack and I am so tired of missing you.
Did you know that when you lose a limb you still feel it? That your no longer there arm still hurts and you still reach for things with something that is no longer there. Its a necessary thing, losing that limb, but you want it back because living without it hurts so much more than all the pain it caused you when you still had it.

That's what it feels like to miss you.

I guess what I mean is I love you and I want you back in my arms but please please please don't ever come back.

I feel like I'm drowning
and I
don't know where my
anchor
is
because every time I think I
see it
it pulls someone else up to
shore.

Isn't it
funny
how you can be okay, eating your slightly ****** but still good dinner and watching the fosters, and then suddenly
just not okay.
My mom left again. A few days ago.
But it hits me
tonight.
Growing up dad leaves and mom leaves and sometimes I left myself.
And then friends go and boyfriends go and your almost 19 wondering why no one in the world is hearing you.

Im screaming STAY
I'm screaming I need a friend
A hug
A hope.
And is it a wonder then
that I never believe when people tell me they won't go.
That I shove them away.
That my voice says don't stay while
my heart knows
that the opposites all I've
ever wanted

I sometimes get angry
because
I have
a clinical case of
loneliness.

Its the nights where
I have
to surround myself with
three blankets and mountainous pillows
so as not to feel empty.

Its the morning when I
wake up and the boy from my dreams is
gone.

Its when I feel stuck
isolated
on an island with no one and no
way out.

But my "mom"
tells me I am lucky
and I am
brave. I am only
18 and yet I have felt more lonely than
many people ever will.

One day
when I am surrounded by
family
all I will feel is so so so so so
much happiness.

You see.
Everybody feels lonely, but if you're
lucky. Like me.
You also know how to
deal with it.

I just got back from vacation and I was sad. Yes sad to be home but when I got into town and saw the lights from the fair I thought maybe this won't be so bad.

And I said goodbye to my friend and her mom and my sister and I put my bags on my shoulders and my purse on my neck and I said love you love you love you. I didn't cry.

And I saw my friend. The one I almost like that I live with. He didn't ask how it was. He said hi or something. One word. And I went to the shower.

And I am laying down and the loneliness is hitting me and I still haven't technically cried. No. Now its starting and I'm crying and there is poetry and music but I am lonely.

Already. Not even an hour. I want to go back. I want it to rain. I want him to knock on my door and say hey want to hang out and I want more people to like me. Vacation liked me yet real life does not.

And I might have thought
that
he felt about me the way i feel about
him.
But I am tired and all too
frightened.
Instead, we watch scary movie 5.
I notice
every time
he looks at me and
imagine that its more than
simply
friends.

I am so sad tonight.
I read something that said whenever someone dies their sadness is transferred.
I think that's *******.
I do not know if I am strong enough for this life. Its not a suicide threat. Simply a fact. I will not end my life but that doesn't mean I will live it.

I want to be
making love in the moonlight, gasping for air
dancing until the heat from your body overtakes the space between us filling me up so that I cannot breathe
smoking a joint and drinking a beer and talking about how it gets better
driving so fast with the music so loud that there is no before or after but only now

I am nights spent feeling the moon and craving the sun

I am cannot feel my tounge because I burn it from all the coffee drinking

I am adult swim and haha robot chicken is funny and I'll tumble on tumblr during the commercial

I am singing off key to music that speaks of love and dreams of places I haven't yet been to

I am not alcohol not tonight because I am lonely and afraid of what I might do to my friend. Kiss the girl is what the little mermaid said.

I am tears running away from my eyes and wow isn't that poem beautiful. I just want mine to be beautiful.

I am too long and I don't know when to stop once I start and i should go to sleep but there are crickets singing along and coffee to be drunk and poetry to read and people to love and hate and the sun will rise soon.

The soon will rise soon

I dreamed about you last night and I
should be able to
let you go. *******. But I
thought about you
today and I looked you up on
Facebook and I looked at a picture of us
on my phone.
I can't delete it.
I hate you and I love you.
Two sides of the same coin.
And I miss you although I try not to.
You're crazy and I shouldn't want you but I do. I still do.
I found it funny in a sick twisted way how you chose her when we both knew you wanted me. And you ripped my heart out and I still want you.
Why.
I'm scared that I'll see you at college this fall and I'm scared that I won't.
I am so tired of loving you and I want my heart to stop obsessing over you.
I want to be free but I would let you capture me and break me.
I just remembered.
You two should be living together right now.
I hope you're happy.
I'm
not. I'm not

I want to write about things, not just emotion.
I have trouble writing about god or the sky or my family but loneliness and love and obsession come to me easily.
And i may not be able to describe how the people looked and how the crowd cheered at the drag show last night but I can tell how my heart felt like it was going to brat with pride and how I smiled because I felt god in the place and I felt her smiling on us.
And I can't close my eyes and speak descriptions of what my sister looked like when she cried but I can remember how my chest contracted and I wanted to scream and shake her until she understood that there is a balance and she needs to learn that she deserves anger not just those around her.
I don't know how to put into prose what the soldiers in the civil war looked like but I know that when I closed my eyes and saw them in the fields and it was like the sun is shining where it used to be dark.
I can't write an ****** poem describing ******* someone. I can only say that sometimes your heart feels like it will burst from love or break from loneliness. And sometimes it does both.
I don't know what was said but I remember the emotions.
I remember the metaphors.
I remember the feelings.

and when you stepped into my room to say goodnight and asked if I was okay I want to scream give me a hug and I can't sleep because the nightmares are ptsd flashbacks and I'm scared I'm getting bad again and I don't know whattodohowtothinkwhattofeel and I'm scared and lonely and no I am not okay no I am not okay because I'm not sure that being alive is something that wants me and I am so scared of letting everyone down and I just want to be good enough and I want a boy to hold me and to tell me that its okay and I wany to stop feeling ugly because ******* I'm pretty right right right please don't accept my ******* I'm alright answer because  too scared that I'll scare you if I tell you the truth but I need to because I want you to listen and then to want me I just want someone to want me why is that so ******* hard

When I said was that those things didn't make you a sociopath and I knew that because I fall for sociopaths.

What I meant was that those things couldn't make you be that because I like you and I don't like unhealthy things anymore.

Do you not find it funny how neither of us can sleep, simply passing the night one wall away from someone doing the same.

I almost said I meant it.
I meant it. I do like you.
But you
you are a moonlight night hidden behind clouds. Barely seen for the beauty. Always seen for the hiding.
And I
I am a song sung while crying at midnight.
And man. I swear to god.
The moon is shining bright where I can see it.
And it doesn't know but I think its beautiful. Oh its beautiful.
"Come on skinny love." My voice
shakes.

Tonight my already fragile soul took yet
another
hit. And I am lonely.
Its a disease. Spreading through my heart to my shaking fingers and my watering eyes.
I want to scream. To run. To curse. I want to rid myself of this disease. I want to chop myself up, melt myself until I am a puddle of goop on the floor.
I want to recreate myself so that I can be someone that you want. That anyone wants.
I am so tired of being torn down and told to rise. I want to run away.
I want to be loved.

I miss my mom.
The one I never had.

You know how it hits you? The weight just slams into you and wonder how you stood so tall for so long.

Lately I have felt so ugly. Like repulsively ugly. Like to the point where I cry thinking about it and deciding what to wear is a losing battle every day.

I like to sleep with a couple of books on my bed. They keep me company.

I want to let my friend know how hot this fire is getting inside me. I want to know that when I sleep I sometimes think of him.  I want to kiss him and i want to say how I feel like Tiffany does in silver linings playbook.

I am not okay after all. I am heartbreak and loneliness and I will succeed I have to succeed what if I don't succeed

Am I too broken? Lately this glass has been spilled all over the floor and it just keeps pouring and cutting anyone that cares enough to get close.

See I have a problem. I am so scared of being liked of being loved. I joke about the ******* I don't but ******* are safe. They will never truly love me as deeply as I love them they will break my heart all the time and I will cry but I know that we all get what's coming to us.

I want to believe I deserve something good but its so much easier said than done

The winds are rubbing against me and I wish it were a person.
I live with my friend and yet we exchange maybe twenty words day.
I don't want to sleep because I cannot stand the dreams but I do not want to be awake because I cannot stand the loneliness.
Can you feel it when you start to get bad again? When iswearrogodimnotgonnakillmyaelfbutidontknowwhattodoanymore thoughts inhabit the spaces in your head.
This is all too much and yet i hate myself for thinking that.
I feel like
I don't know.

I just don't know

I get so lonely and sometimes I can push it away and drink coffee or read poetry or listen to music.
But the thing is that often my paid slams against the cage of my heart and escapes through my eyes, making tracks down my face.
I have this thing called depression. Called ifeelwaytoofuckingdeep. Called sometimesijustwanttolayinbedcryingandlisteningtomusic.
I want to stop crying multiple times a day and I want to stop feeling like my world is constantly on the edge of collapsing but I dont know if that will happen.
I'm scared that nobody would really be able to want me if they find out how ******* up I really am but my friends call me blunt for a reason.
I'm not really any good at stuffing my feelings. But I would like somebody to pull them out of my tummy and help me speak them. I would like somebody to give me a hug and wipe my tears. Better yet I want somebody who will let me cry.
Loneliness is a disease that tears you part daily, minutely, secondly. I have diagnosed depression but that is simply a side effect of the lonely.

I miss the way I felt when he looked at me right before he kissed me.
I miss the way he felt as he moved inside me.
I miss the way that he made me laugh.
I know that it was a lie, this fantasy world that we both made up in our heads. I kist wish that we could have made it work out loud.

I guess its a good
thing we do not always get
what we want.

Our 11:11 desires change as quickly as the clock.

This guy is talking to me and he seems great and he just called me cute and he likes the poem I let him read but I'm pretty sure he has a girlfriend.

Today I watched the fault in our stars and I realized that when I kiss my next lover that I want song lyrics to be screaming.
I want to be listening to jack white sing that he wants love to ****** his own mother.
I want fireworks to explode and I want to be hearing the words from my favorite poets ringing in my eardrums.
I want the world to stop spinning amd to stop breathing.
In that moment I want my heart to atop bearing. I want to die for five minutes because if your kiss isn't the afterlife than I dont know what is.

I cannot eat Asian food
or pork. Or rice.
I don't know why.

The other night I went to a hibachi grill with my friend and his mother and I thought that although I probably wouldn't eat anything I would be fine.
See.I thought I had gotten past the past.

I used to hold my breath when my mom picked up cashew and sweet and sour chicken. I barely breathed the whole way home. I covered up my straw so that the smell wouldn't infuse my soda pop. I state outside until I was positive that all of it was gone.

At the hibachi grill I got pasta. No rice. I had veggies.
They started out giving us salad. I could barely eat it but I was fine. I was fine.
Then they started cooking.

And in my head I heard it.
You won't leave this table until its gone. Stir fry.
My second family once made me feel so insuperior that I don't know how much worse it could get. I sat there.

He put the food on my playe and I cursed and I implored myself.
I ate one noodle.
But those voices. The flashbacks.
I am not good enough.
I cut my noodles onto more pieces than there are people in Japan.

I almost leaped from my seat. They were screaming. Why can't I just eat the ******* food.
Bathroom
Panic attack
Compose myself
Return
I'm fine but they know its a lie.

And so I am so sorry Karen.and I am so sorry everyone because I realized something that night.
I may not have your eating disorder. I don't feel fat and I don't throw up.
But that night I had an eating disorder. And I could barely stand the voices the pressure the memories the hate.
You are amazing. Every day feeling souch pain with food. You are my hero.

I forced myself to swallow one noodle but you make a choice daily to do so much more.
I think I have a price of the puzzle. I don't pretend to understand. But now I know.
Every tiny bite you take. Every time you say no to the toilet you are my hero. And when you fall. You are still my hero.

I think that I have fallen for someone new but the scars from my last attempt at romance still burn. I have to bandage them medicate them hide them.

Every day I say that it will be the day. I will tell him but I don't but I can't but I'm scared.

**** **** **** everyone everything that has led me to this thought that I am nit enough. People do like me.
Right?

We watched anime today and I thought of ways to talk about how I feel. About this train that is moving around in the railroad track of my heart and how I'm not sure if it will drop me off in the safety of his arms or in another train wreck.

I was brave. I said I wanted to go to Branson. To silver dollar city and he thought it was a good idea.

Besides. I need this friend. I can't. I may not be good enough for anything more and maybe I am but I'm so scared that I don't know if I'll find out.

I looked at an old picture of us countless times today and when I thought I started my period I almost cried from relief.
It was a false alarm.
I thought that maybe I was falling for this other guy but I'm just me and so he's not interested.
I'm sitting at the park right now. Its chilly and I want to go back to the house but I know I'll start cutting.
Oh yeah. I'm doing that again. Right underneath my *******. Hidden so well.
I want to talk to someone or cuddle or just ha e somebody want me.
Why doesn't anybody want me.
I shouldn't be thinking about you still. Its been over a month since we first stared replaying our game.
I read the most beautiful poem today.
I'm going to go back to the house I'm staying at and take a shower and bleed out my heart. I have been crying nonstop for days now and I hate everything.

We spend each day waiting for the day when we won't have to wait.

But what happens if we miss it because its one of those days when we just cannot leave the house.
I am scared of being scared and this fear if mine is killing all of my dreams.

I write about wanting to be loved but how is that going to happen when I push everyone away?
I am a frightened fool.
I want someone to make the first move because I am so scared.

Why. Why. Why.
What difference does any of this make anymore?

I am not good. I can't write well. I can't love well. I can't live well so why do I even try.

This is so jumbled like my heart.

The other day the clock struck 11:11 and I made sure to not wish for anything for that minute.

When is it enough?
How do we get over those people that we once loved?
If I were to describe what I wanted in one word what would it be?
Do I make a positive impact? Or at least one more positive than negative?
Why do I miss him so badly?
Is there a god? Or at the very least somebody who will just ******* listen?

I have all of these holes and I know now that sometimes they cannot be filled and that I just have to live with them but sometimes they feel so big, like they're eating away at my insides and if I don't put a plug to it then I'll just disappear.

It's 4 am and part of me wants to just sleep and part of me is scared that you will be in my dreams and then I'll wake up and you won't be here and I will cry and I am so **** tired of that.

It's too early to stay up and watch the sunrise, but god. I do love those colors.

My cat wants to sleep with me.
At least somebody does.
#foreveralone #catlady

I heard a Sheryl Crow song that goes "the first cut is the deepest" but I know that for me that's never true.
For me, it's the second cut.
When I realize that, ****, I didn't do enough damage and goddanmit if I'll ever be good enough so let's make it ******* rain.
Lets build a hole into my skin, because god knows there aren't enough on my heart.

I don't usually cut. I self-harm in other ways.
I used to cut to abuse myself, but now it's just loneliness that I feel.
I'm so scared of people leaving that I push them away before they get the chance to go.

What if I never meet you because I push you away?
What if there's nothing after this?
And what if my dreams are as good as it gets?

Sitting at my computer, writing ****** poetry at 4 in the morning. I just watched 16 episodes of the first season of One Tree Hill.
This is me.
I am romance on shows and poetry and coffee and too hot but I still use my  blanket and I have a stuffed animal that I snuggle with.
I am me.
And I am ****** up and messed up and wanting for love and lustful tonight and I just want to be hugged and kissed and given a doughnut.

I'm going to bed.
I love you.
I love you.
I love you.
Don't ever let anyone say that nobody loves you. Because I do.
Sleep tight. Don't let the bed bugs bite, darling.

Yesterday I found god.
I found her in the garden at the park.
She was evident in the ducks that I watched.
Her name was written all over the puddles that I jumped in.
I heard her as the rain came pouring down.

I found god.
He was in laughter.
In the police that protected downtown.
The couple that kissed in front of a preacher.
I tasted him in my coffee.

Some people don't believe and I get that. I don't always believe. But sometimes, you have days where god is as evident as the skin on your body.

Sometimes I write on my skin. Not cut.

Words hurt more

Three am is for the poets.
Its for when I can't sleep and instead stay up late, craving a lover I've never had, the are and weird shows on hulu.

Three am is for when my tears are caked in my face.
Its for when my legs burn.
And my heart hurts.

Three am is for k dramas and adult swim.
Its ice cream and cake.
Its for poetry

I always lose my shoes. I eat a bowl of popcorn every day and never put the bowl in the sink. My hair doesn't always stay in the right side. I told my sister that I wish she killed herself the other day. I have terrible attendence. Deodorant covers up my smell but not my stains. I don't write good enough. I don't like sleeping at night. I'm lonely and I make people leave.

I love deep. I can make kick *** deserts. I tell funny ****** up jokes. I make a mean *** of coffee. I like to swing. I like to dance in the rain. I know every word to the frozen movie. I have good taste in music. I'm impulsive. I like coffee and mini golfing and ice cream and hula hooping in the store.

If you hear me when you are crying wondering if you'll ever meet her. If you need a lover a friend a companion. If too sensitive and slightly child like makes you smile. If your heartstrings play music when you read my words.

Then love me back as much as the moon loves the sun. As much as my galoshes love a puddle. As much as a smoker loves the taste of the inhale. As much as I would love you.

I would love you.

I find it strange, the time period from loving to not loving, missing to not missing, someone.

I've only begun to miss you again recently. A few days ago. But ****. My heart has been craving you.

I have dreams where we're together. I have fantasies where ours hips are pressed into one motion. Where your lips encompass mine and I fall into them.

I see these pictures that your girlfriend puts in facebook and I hate her. And I hate you. And I love you.

I guess this makes sense. We both liked each other from the beginning of last school year. We kissed in November and said bye in December. And for months we were fine but I miss May.

In months will this happen again? And worse would I let it? I love you. I miss you. I miss you.