When I hear the shower running after dinner and know that my sister is throwing up
2. Realizing that I am alone and I can't run forever
3. Knowing that I'm never gonna be good enough
4. There are other people hurting and it can't be stopped
5. I'm Giving Up On You by It's a Big World
6. Poetry
7. My parents
8. Seeing him and knowing that it's not him I want, just love
9. I don't know if I'm strong enough
10. Everybody leaves

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

I took a shower this morning but no matter how hard I scrub the bad won't come off of me.

As we
sleep
you whisper
I love you
to her

I thought
it
would make
you go
away.
Instead I feel
it's
harder.
I feel cheap and *****.
**** the media.
They said it'd be
okay.

When you look up at the sky tonight know that you are seeing an expanse that is no where near as wide as my love for you.
I may not know you. I love you. Tonight my heart is filled with ache and thoughts of you.
As I listen to my indie love songs all I hear is the story of our future. We will look back at our pasts and smile with reverence because it worked out. We found each other.
I am searching for you. High and low, far and wide. One day we will bump noses and realize. It's here.
You are lovely. Your lips are the sweetest thing I will ever taste and your body will be the best thing I ever collapse into.
I will fall into you like the sun into the darkness. I will drink you in like the richest latte I have ever tasted. I will soak up your love like the bubbles in my bath.
I will fall in love with every frustrating, intoxicating move that you make. I will both love and hate you and at times I may not know which. I will write far too much poetry about you so that one day future generations may fall in love with you too.
I do not know you but I love you to the depths of the seas and higher than the clouds. I am my lovers and they are mine. We are two broken hearts colliding. Fitting. We will find each other. I'm searching.

I don't think in
thoughts.
I think in
poetry.

How can
you not
care?
After everything,
you just
throw it all
away?

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.

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 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.

If I
Fu

Will somebody pretend to
be in love with me
just for tonight.

I am
alive,
writing poetry,
bathing,
listening to music.
Sinking.

I keep writing about
him. But I don't know what else
to do.
I want somebody else.
More than that. I want
somebody else
to want
me.

Do they all leave or do I push them?
I say that nobody is dependable that all go at some point.
Look at me.
My mom, an abusive sociopathic ***** and my dad, a narcissistic drunk.
No wonder my love life is sour.
No wonder I don't trust.
I'd rather **** and be done then love and be hurt.
Betrayal.
Do you think it's possible that I'll ever love and not be hurt?
Do I betray others?
I told him. Jordan. I told him at the beginning about me. About how everybody leaves and it's because of me.
But he gave me pinkie promises and listened to me when I cried.
And I maybe lost my virginity to him. And we spent most nights of our year plus relationship together. And then my mom skipped town and he broke up with me.
Why did you guys leave?
I'll be better. I promise. I promise. *******. I promise. Please please please please.  
And I pulled a razor against my skin and I had been good for so long.
Guess I betrayed myself too.
I have the word **** on my wrist. It used to say love.
But that left too.

I dreamed about
you
and I didn't want
to wake
up.

I cut off all my hair in November.
It's just hair. It doesn't make that
much of a difference to who you are. He said.
But he doesn't know.
I am so tired of being what everyone expects of me.
I cut off my hair. And now I talk in
class, and I drink
beer, and I hang out with
friends.
I can't sleep.
I don't sleep.
I'm not so beautiful anymore.
Although, I do get laid more.
It's not always what the surface shows.
I wasn't just cutting off my hair.
I was getting out of my skin.
Running away from myself.
And I'm getting farther and farther but I don't know
if it's better
or worse.

sometime
the need to write
scribbling words on paper
is as strong as the need to write
but the thought scares me
and so
i push the urge deep down
and hold my breath
but then
i cannot hold it any longer
and i let it out
letting the writing become me
an when im done
tears flow
not because the writing is beautiful
but because it is captivating
to let loose those things that i kept hidden
and because
i finally allowed myself
to breathe

Lie to me.

Say that you
Want me
Need me
Love me.

I'm not feeling enough.
The razor is too dull.
The sleep is too short.

Maybe your lies will be strong enough.

It's always hardest
when
I'm counting the hours
until
daylight.

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 am not a poet.

I am just a ****** up girl with a skewed perception.

I am composed of heartbreak and battle scars and I try but not enough.
Never enough.

I am not a poet.

I don't know iambic pentameter. I stay up too late and make coffee at the wrong time.

I yell when I get angry and I love too much when I love.

I am begging you to love me. Whoever you are. Fall in love with my poetry, if not with me.

I am not a poet. I am just a young woman tired from life and ready to move forward but too scared to go alone and I want you to hold my hand.

I do not just love you. I also hate you. I am both and I am none.

Do you understand!

I AM NOT A POET!!!!!!

I am not good enough smart enough pretty enough

I will love you until my heart breaks.

I am not
Not
Not
Not
A ******* poet.

I just write out my tears in prose.

If I cut you
out
of
my
life.
Then sorry, but I'm not sorry.

I am a ****** up ******* **** useless excuse for a human being.
I should never have been brought into this world.
Everything hurts and I just want
it all to
stop.
I'm so tired.
I hate myself.
I hate myself so ******* much

As I kiss your
Cigarette stained mouth
You whisper
I love you.
Let's drink coffee and talk about
The universe.
Ignore the world in front
Of us

I'm so scared of so much. Of life, of love. I let this fear get to me and then I end up doing nothing, being nothing. I want to be brave and adventurous and **** and carefree and while I may be able to pretend, I'm not really. I'm not any of those things and I hate it. I hate myself. I'm trying to better myself. My school attendance has gone up, I've been cleaning, I think I got the job I interviewed for. It's not enough. That's the problem. I push myself so much that I'll never be good enough. I'll never pass the bar, cross the finish line. And the sad thing is, I think I like it that way. It's not that I don't want to be an A+ human being, it's that I know I don't deserve to be one. And so everything is only okay. Sure, I cleaned the house last night, but eww, look at that. Such a **** up. Wow, you got 2 hearts on that poem. And you call yourself a writer. Wannabe loser. Didn't go to school today? How do you ever expect to go to college? Failure, dumb, *****, ****. I don't even know how I would deal if I loved instead of hated myself. I think that's why I date losers. They magnify the fact that I'm worthless, not good enough. It's terrible, but it's my life and that's that. But doesn't it make me mediocre for not trying harder to change it? And if I do try and change then I don't make it good enough. It's a cycle.

I slept with a guy last night
that i
started talking to
yesterday afternoon.
I am beginning to
realize
that I need
heartbreak
pain
passion.
Not this game that two
disconnected souls
play
as they grasp desperately
at
trying to
feel.

Yesterday I had my heart
ripped apart
stomped on
shattered till there was
nothing left.
Last night I cut my leg.
And I miss him tonight.
and i miss him tonight.
I know loneliness is a part if life
but
I just want that part to
end for
a little
bit.

Sometimes
I hold my pencil so tight
and write so fast
that
my nails dig into my hand,
my fingers ache
and I
feel alive.

It's hard and easy to have a heart that feels so
much.
I fall in love with a snap of fingers.
I want to run outside and dance in the rain.
Get soaked to the bones.
I think I'm going to head to the park tonight.
Swing until the rhythmic patterns calm my ever shaking heart.
I'll eat toast and jam.
Write poetry.
Pray for love.
The wind is blowing outside.
It is both calling me and pushing me away.
Is that what others think I do?

God. I am in so
**** deep.
I don't know if I can
get out.
I know that I
don't mind.

I saw you today
I
hate
you.
Why did we meet?
I wish I hadn't
I wish I hadn't
met you.

Its such a
slippery *****.
Cutting
didn't
make me feel
much better. And
yet. I'm wanting
to do it
again

Sometimes what pains me
the most
is knowing that no matter what,
whether I allow myself to have what I want or give it up for others,
nobody is going to be
satisfied.

******* ******* ******* ******* ******* ******* *******
I deserve someone who loves me back

The worst part about
living with my
sister and her
boyfriend is that
they are a
pair.
They go to cuddle and I'm here,
pinteresting John Green and writing
poetry. Trying to
convince myself that
this is just as
good. This is equal to cuddling with a lover.
But both my
brain and heart
are too smart for that
****.

I have written far too many
poems
for a boy who will never be
mine.
But oh, I will write so many more
if he was.

I have decided that I
do not
believe in love.
Which is easier?
To knew that
it will never work and
become
heartbroken
daily or to
hope that it will and fall apart at the
end.
I do know this.
"I can write the saddest thing of all."
To look into his eyes
To kiss his lips
To laugh, to be silly.
To fall.
I am. I am. But I
I don't believe in love.
Everyday I break my heart so that you cannot.

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 used to say that
you
felt like coming home.
And when you left
I
was
devastated.
But, I've realized that
the only home that there is
is inside
me.

I have a friend who
I know
has feelings for me and it's ridiculous
because he's
17 and never been
kissed.
And I want to scream,
run!,
don't turn back.
Whatever it is you see in me is
false.
Stay the way you are, because it's naive and it's innocent and
I would give
anything
to be like you.

For some reason
when I think of
the
texture
of hope I keep seeing
a woven basket.
I have no idea why.
I guess maybe because they're easily
broken
like hope.
Or maybe
it's not a metaphor.
Maybe that's just what
hope
feels like
to me.

Hey ya'll.
If you need a friend,
message me. Just lonely tonight.

I keep reading these poems
about love,
fresh love, new love, true love.
But all I can think about
is how
sad, beautiful, heartbroken
these poems will be
when that
love
ends.

Writers lie
we create works of fiction and we pour our souls into it.
It's no wonder that we lie.
About the silliest things.
I can't stop it.
I am so passionate.
About everything.
Maybe
that contributes too.
But I don't know.
I like to blame it on
being a
writer.

Listen. Look, I know I talk too much and I may rant a lot, but if you just listen that's enough. I don't want advice, just acknowledgement and a hug.

2. Laugh. I may drop all the contents of my purse when I flirt with the cashier. I'm never perfectly groomed. I trip on my own two feet. I sing at the top of my lungs off key to the Frozen Soundtrack. I will use you to smack when my laughter gets me. I love cheesy puns and terrible anti-jokes.

3. Mean it. I'm both cynical and passionate. Don't take my ****, but don't leave for no reason. My heart is broken. I'm not asking you to fix it. Just don't lie and hurt it worse. Please.

4. Kiss. Don't be afraid. Grab me and kiss me and pin me down and have me. Love me. I don't believe in simplicity. When we make love, make love. It's supposed to feel like something.

5. Live. Let's take a walk in the rain so I can wear my galoshes and jump in puddles. Tease me because I **** at being a vegetarian and then buy me some chicken. Hold me when I cry because I'm tired of abandonment. Don't let me go when I try to leave. Ask me to marry you with a hot sauce packet at Taco Bell. Look at my pinterest. Read my poetry. Play monopoly. Be sarcastic. Call me a *****. Dance and let me step on your toes. Laugh when I try to be ****. Believe in me. Don't leave.

I'm just me. And I want love. And I'll give you all I have. I can be silly and blunt and a ditz. Please, just love me through it all.

Why the
hell
does life get so
difficult and confusing and sad.
I son't know what to
do.

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 am composed of
heartbreak
and
poetry