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

Small cut on my right
hip. Small enough to be
okay, large enough to
remind me
that I will never be good
enough.

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

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

I would love you more than she ever could.
2. I came home and cried, then showered and cried and then slept and cried. Can you kiss my tears away?
3. Why am I not enough? What is so wrong with me? I love you but you can't return the favor.
4. Your lips are beautiful. The way you grab me close. The things you say in your sleep. You are silly and frustrating and enticing and all together beautiful.
5. I saved one of your poems. It could have been about anybody. It could have been about me. I wish it were about me. My answer would be yes. I hope hers is too.
6. I wouldn't mind you breaking my heart as long as you loved me gently while it lasted.
7. What is it about her? Are you happy? You never answered that question.
8. I want to hear poetry about me fall from your lips.
9. Friday, when we went out and made love, was one of those date days that I wanted.
10. Can we just go back and eat ice cream and hula hoop and type on hats?
11. Please don't ignore me now. I want to kiss your lips every time I see you but  I will stop myself. I almost laid my head on you at rehearsal but then remembered.
12. I'm sorry that I fell in live with you. I hate myself for it.
13. If I showed you this would you are? I want you to grab me tight and not let go. Tell me that you do want me you're just scared. I'll hold your hand. Make my dreams reality.
14. Darling. You make me dizzy. You are words cannot express. You were mine and I was yours, no matter how short it lasted.

to my sister, Karen, I know you just threw up your dinner. Please stop. I would give my life to erase the scars from your body and the pain from your stomach. You are beautiful and I wish  I looked like you. I know. Life is hard and it never feels good enough, but that's okay. It doesn't have to be. I'll hold you and hug you and love you. I love you. I am so sorry for calling you fat when we were little. Sometimes I think it's my fault and I just want you to be okay. I just want you to be okay. You are so beautiful. More beautiful than anything I can think of, inside and out. I love you.
2. to my sister, Destiny, stop pushing us away. I miss you and I wish I could build a home for you. I love you even when you become really mean and I cry and yell at you. You can be honest with me. I'm not gonna leave and I know that's hard to believe but it's true. I would do anything for you. I love you so much. You need to believe and accept it.
3. to my sister, Amy, it's okay to grieve. She's your mom. Cry as much as you want. It's okay. I miss you and I wish you still lived here. I know it ***** and it's hard but I am so so so proud of you. More than you know. You inspire me and I love you.
4. to my mom, do you remember? You abandoned us. And that was the last straw. I honestly don't even like calling you mom anymore, because you aren't. We need you. I hate you so much. ******* ******* *******. I'm scared that you're not gonna be okay if I hate you but at the same time I don't really care anymore. Do you remember abusing me? And trying to **** yourself and scaring me? Why? What did I ever do? I just wanted you to love me.
5. to my dad, i'm scared i'm turning into you. I'm drinking too much and I like it. I just want all the sad to go away and it and *** helps. I don't want to be like you. You're never there when we need you and you think we're supposed to be fine. We're kids! I want to be a teenager, but you stole that from me. I don't believe you anymore. Isn't that sad? I miss you daddy. Where did you go? You're not the same person anymore. Why?

wanting to sleep, but not wanting to give into the nightmares
being scared that nobody is ever gonna want me
having so many meetings on a day where i just want it all to stop
being afraid to cry because i don't want anyone to know
biting my lips so much that they are constantly bleeding
not having anybody to cuddle with
searching for anything that will distract me a little longer
knowing that they don't really care
wanting to be hugged, but it not happening
looking in the mirror and hating what i see
being homeless and eighteen and wanting to be a teenager
taking the ******* bus everywhere
always having hunger pangs
please
please
please
help me

this isnt poetry
scribbling my thoughts on paper
in verse form
this isnt poetry
reaching deep into my soul
and pulling out my feelings
this is more like
journaling
or maybe even
therapy
because for some reason
this writing
this "poetry"
feels theraputic
it leaves you alive
so i guess
that means
that maybe, possibly
this just might
be poetry

Sometimes
I just want
everything to end up going
right.

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 don't know
if I write
poetry
or just
diary entries in
prose

i
did
it

It's one of those days
where
I need
a pint of Ben and Jerrys
my blanket
laptop
something to cuddle with.
It's one of those days
where
I need
to be alone.
There's no one
to be
with

Why do
I
keep believing
you?

Its on night
when I hate you
the most
that I
wish
you were here.

Why do you write?
Asks my English book.
So I say why
and man,
it really makes me wanna
write.
I do it
(writing that is)
to make something
out of nothing.
I do it
to make something
beautiful
(hopefully)
I do it
because how can I not?
Writing is like breathing for me.
What is it for you English book?

I have black shoes.
I bet they look like
someone elses.
Isn't it weird,
how,
everyone is interconnected?
Isn't it insane
that maybe
I've already met 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 am talking to someone else and I trying to convince myself that I could fall in love be with him but I just keep seeing your face.

Our conversations were poetry and nonsense and broken promises and I miss you.
I am a ******* loser because I miss you.

I should hate you and believe me I do but tonight I miss you.

He loved her.



                                                                                                            She loved him too.



                                                  That was enough.

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 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.

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

"Because tonight will be the night that I will fall for you"
I want to fall
in love
tonight.
How about you?

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'm breaking
b
r
e
a
k
i
n
g
I cannot be strong anymore.
Where the **** is help

Hi

I have two beautiful sisters.
Sometimes I have okay
self image, but
it can be hard.

Dezi has that blond hair, brown eyed all american look. She's got a **** and curves but is still petite.
She thinks she looks good most of the time but sometimes she is throws fits about clothes and I know what she's thinking.
Yesterday she made fun of how hairy my belly is. I need to shave I guess.

My sister Karen is gorgeous. Eating disorder makes her skinnier than she already is. But she still has curves. She throws up her food before I'm even done with mine and she's slowly killing herself.
She doesn't get that she's slowly killing me too.
And sometimes when I feel weird after i eat I wonder if I should just stop.

I'm the oldest so I try to act okay. They don't know that I just cut this morning or that them both smoking causes me to cry sometimes. They don't realize that I know I will never be enough. That I only allow myself to sleep with guys that I don't care about because its better than getting my heart broken by someone I love.

Last night my dad said he didn't love me.
Two weeks ago the boy I love lied to my face and chose someone else. Forgot about me.

I used to want to die. I still do but the ****** thing about that is I can't because I have to make sure my sisters are okay.

I need a friend who cares and a boy who loves me would be nice too. Romantically.

Cross my fingers.
Cross my heart.
I'll be good just please
help me.

How can you do this.
I trusted you.
Did I do something?
I can't deal with it.
Sorryy. I'm sorry
Please..
My heart is ******* hurting.

I live with my sister's boyfriend and my sister.
I'm thankful to have a place
to stay.
But sometimes, when they get so
cutesy I want to
cry and scream and yell.
I want it too.

I just want to go
to sleep.
But I hate the dreams and the
waking up.
Which is worse?

I think sometimes I like to mess up because then people get mad at me.
And I deserve to be gotten mad at.

I am writing on this computer so that I don't
write
on my arms.

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.

am i selfish
for wanting this one thing?
i love you
its her i hate
i thought
you would do anything for me
even something like this
but i was wrong
and now
i feel bad
like i dont trust you
like im selfish
maybe theyre both true
i dont know anymore
i just wish id never asked
that way i could continue believing a lie
believing that youd give up anything for me
but i asked
and now im faced with reality
to be honest
i like my make believe world better
where you go
"sure babe, of course ill stop talking to her"
but thats a dream
like unicorns or fairys
i have to face reality
i have to hurt
to make you feel good
and i will
cuz id do anything for you
including this suffering
why?
cuz i know it makes you happy
and sometimes thats all
that matters

Be my lover.
I will hold your hand and run through the rain.
I will kiss you under a midnight sky, overcast with stars.
I will hog the radio and scream-sing at the top of my lungs.
I will drink far too much coffee and read never enough poetry

Be my lover.
You will smile at me and call me beautiful.
You will pick me up for late night coffee and ice cream runs.
You will make love to me and show me what it is to fall.
You will have a past and a present and a future and it will be beautiful.

Let's be lovers.
We will kiss and cuddle and love.
We will fight and scream and curse.
We will live and ride this crazy life out until our infinity ends
We will be a miracle, a crazy, insane, happy, miracle.

The first time I saw him I was playing monopoly with some friends. He said hi and that he didn't want to talk to us because he wanted to go play video games. I later found out he said this to look cool. Later, I wandered into the living room and sat on the couch to talk to Kendall, really wanting to talk to him. Jordan. We talked and joked and I started to fall. He came to church with me the next morning. He read my poetry. Later he would tell me that he fell in love with me because we wrote about the same things. I think he was my salvation. We lived in the same building, we spent every day of the first three months together. We made love on trains and in abandoned buildings long before we moved to a bed. He asked me to be "his boyfriend" at a gay bar. I used to dream that we would joke about that into old age. Somewhere along the way we got lost. He started pushing, no, shoving me away. I kissed another boy. I tried to end my life. He pulled me back together, said he still loved me. Pinky promised forever with me. Before this last, final breakup he broke up with me multiple times. The day that we ended I knew. And I asked. "You're gonna break up with me, aren't you?" His silence told me the truth. We made love, played a game, ate dinner. Tried to act like nothing was wrong until he left. And then I cried. February 3, 2014. We promised to still be friends, but you can't really promise that. I realize things now. He never was gonna get a job. He made me feel bad about being who I am. He wants something that he doesn't even know what it is. He's not everything. He's not perfect and we were both so unhappy, but even recognizing that as reality doesn't make things easier. My mom left at the same time. I feel so abandoned. I don't know what I do wrong, but I want to fix it. I wish others would stay. I need somebody to stay.

Shreds of doubt. Can't you just see it? A paper called hope going through the shredder until it turns to doubt, lying in the trash can.
Sometimes it's not that things don't work out.
Sometimes it's not that we fall out of love.
Sometimes it's not that we fail a test.
Or forget to dream.
Or lose ourselves.
Sometimes it's just that we let doubt in.
We just let it seep into our thoughts and our actions and our lives. And doubt, it kills more than failure does.
Once hope is shredded no amount of duck tape or super glue will bring it back. It's gone. So hold it close.

I try to hold it all in but i can't
not tonight
im bawling and listening to music and writing poetry
and im falling
apart
i need you
i need you
what the **** did i do to make everyone
go away
i want somebody to help me
i cant do it anymore
im begging for help
please

God. I am so tired
of this
life. What did I
do?
What did i do?
I want to be sitting in the park with someone who
loves me.
And we'll be singing and talking about
the meaning of life.
And I'll get cold and he'll hold me.
He'll hold me.

In my dreams
it's okay.
And when I
sleep
you
hold me.
But in real life.
Dreams stay
silent.
I am alone.
Craving
attention.
Craving being
wanted.
I understand why.
And yeah,
part of me craves
this too.
Craves
hurt and anger.
Hey. I crave
yells and hits and why didn't
you?
Hold me or hate me.
Both will
break me.

I am standing atop
a
parking garage.
I am a whirlwind.
I am lightening.
I am thunder.
If I jump
off.
Will I float?
Or will the weight of everything
make me sink.

If I like you then we won't be together.
Its my rule.
I broke it and he left me bruised.
So back to basics.

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

I want to go
eat milkshakes and
forget about
the world.

I miss my mom.
The one I never had.

i dont know what to do i dont know what to do i dont know what to do i dont know what to do
i cant cant cant be strong anymore i cant do it
let me be let me be
i need to fall apart but i dont know how
to fall apart without coming apart at the seams and never coming back together
im scared

Kiss my tears away. Kiss them away.
I need you.
I used to believe in fairy tales and now I'll settle for someone who just grabs me tight and lives me until I fall asleep.
Make my hands hurt from writing so much **** poetry about you.
Promise me you won't go and keep it.
Just ******* keep it.
When you read this know that km crying and missing you and I don't know you but my heart does. But my soul does.
These bruises in my skin. These scratches on my back are from trying to fill a void that is so far inside of me I can't even see the bottom.
Bit I'm looking and I'm stepping and   screaming the words to this Ron pope song in hopes that they materialize in the form of you.
I will hold your hand and make you laugh. I will kiss you until you can't breathe. I will live you until all you know is love.
I'm here. Waiting. Searching. I know you are too.
Take my hand. Let's rest