Darling,
I need you
for the balance 
of my life

there will come a time
when it will feel like we're standing
so close to the edge,
but I know -
I just do
- that we will jump down
into that deep void,
(maybe because of too much bravery)
scream our lungs out,
and make a big splash...

we didnt know
what was down there,
but we both knew
that somehow -
just maybe
- it was worth the risk.

*and it was

I may not be suicidal
But I'm still sad in a way that destroys me

I sit in my seventh grade health class
*** ed freshman year
My twelfth grade english class
And they talk about ****.
They talk about it like it's an idea
A textbook definition
A rare shadow of society
That doesn't happen to real people
At least not people you know.
They act like there is only one way it happens
It's either a creepy forty year-old man who comes into your bedroom uninvited
Over and over again.
Or, as you grow up,
A boyfriend or date with whom you are, in their opinion,
'Stupid' enough to get drunk with
Passed out on a bed
Your clothes are like weights that anchor your heavy soul.
Maybe my form of abuse was different
As I was in his bed
Which felt more like a coffin full of spiders
As spirits plucked every last bit of life from me
Like guitar strings.
He was not a crusty old man with years of experience molesting children
He was my beloved fourteen year-old cousin
Who had struggled with Aspbergers his whole life.
I had looked up to him regardless.
How could I hate someone who was sick?
How could I hate someone who may or may not have
Understood the severity of what he was doing?
He only molested me once
But it molded my impressionable mind
Like silly putty
From then on I only fell for men
Who had bloodstained hands
And crooked smiles.
It is no wonder that at sixteen
Even after I had dealt with the aftermath of his hurricane
Another boy took advantage of me
And left me seldom sleeping.
It is no wonder that I did not recognize his abuse right away
Or that even though I knew he had wronged me
I would not call it assault.
It is no wonder that instead of press charges or tell my parents
I chose to avoid it
Confiding in my therapist only because I was backed into a corner
Treading quicksand all the while.
The harder you fight, the faster you sink.
After I told about my molestation at fourteen
My parents, although they were extremely supportive,
Told me to keep it quiet
Not to tell everyone.
Their intentions were exceptional
But they made me believe I had something to be ashamed of
When I realized this wasn't the case
I screamed at the top of my lungs
Shouted across the valleys
I was going to be heard
And when I joined forced with others who
Had dealt with similar events
Our ashes piled together
Created a smoke signal so vibrant, so immense
That people had to intentionally avert their eyes in order not to notice it.
We are not the bruises of society
For you to poke and **** at
To see how much our wounds hurt.
We are not for your corrupt education system
Your industry
That you can choose to use for your campaign
Just when our stories are marketable.
These stories do not all look the same
Different chapters
Different pages
Different font styles.
My story is mine
And I do not get to pick and choose
Take my assault off the shelf just when it looks pristine and proper
I live with this everyday
And just as burn victims still have marks that remind them
Of the incident
I still have pieces of me
That struggle with this event on a daily basis.
But I choose to use it in a way that makes me whole.
I cannot change the story
But I can change the ending
And I accept the fact that it will never be a porcelain doll
But it is my battle scar to show as I please
I am a survivor
That is my bragging right
And no one else's shame.

I'm drunk and I just
want to let you know
my head hurts when I see you
because I like you
and I am scared
because I get intense
and clingy
and you don't like that.
So sitting next to you
makes my bones ache
and my muscles scream
like I just ran a marathon. 

When you're sad
which seems all the time now
it gets worse
because now
I want to hold you
rub your back
kiss your head
and tell you it'll be okay, 
but you won't believe me
and I don't wanna be clingy.
I know you like it when I'm not
but I like you
so I have to scream
in my head that I can't
that sitting next to you is fine
but not TOO close
can't text him all day
can't show him this poem
can't constantly kiss him
on the shoulder or cheek
can't make him think
I'm clingy.

My body aches 
head hurts
eyes sink in
pale red lips
cuts in my thighs like
Swiss cheese
and all I want
is to feel those lips
and hear your voice
and see that smile.
I want to text all day
and know you're okay.
Call you when I get 
off work
and hear about your day
and how you feel.
Hear that laugh
that makes my old bones
vibrate as if I'm at a concert.

I am a crazy
clingy boy
and you want someone
that can sit alone
in a house
in quiet
and not feel
a thousand hands
clawing at his skin
and voices screeching and
calling him names.
You want someone that
can fend for himself
but I can't do either
and
I don't wanna lose you.

This is for the poet
the sunshine woke up today
for the poet who loves
reading two books in a day
for the poet who should
be followed, come what may

for the poet who could
see me in the dark

This is for the poet
who dreams of a quiet place
for the poet who searches
eternally for infinite solace
for the poet who looks
for a soul and stays

for the poet who could
be with me in the dark

This for the poet
who can't be beaten down
for the poet undaunted
by the laws of the crowd
for the poet who sees
through all the thick clouds

for the poet who could
save me from the dark

This is for the poet
the moon will sing goodnight
for the poet who saves
her last breath for the stars
for the poet my heart
belongs to from the start

for the poet who could
love me in the dark

you always asked me
why i sleep so much
but the truth is i don't
get more than a few
hours of sleep
i lay awake all night
waiting for someone
to notice i'm alone and
i'm scared and i can't
seem to find a reason
to live
i wanted you to notice
i was dropping hints
i was leaving clues
i was waiting

Life is beautiful.
They said.
Only if you make it.
I replied.
We live only once.
They said.
We die once.
I replied.
Smile is the best ornament.
They said.
Only if you were it.
I said.
Love is beautiful.
They said.
Only if you fall with him.
I said.
And this war between me and them,
Will remain never-ending...

get your own ******* love life and stop staring at ours.