I think about death too often
my death, I think about too often.

Will I die young?
Will I have accomplished
all I wanted?
Will I have children before my death?
Will they have to live a life with
no mother?
Will I live a long life,
growing old with loved ones
and friends?
Seeing my grandkids have kids.

Will I have neither of those and
live the world's loneliest life?
Will I dedicate myself to work
and work only
Will I die before I even live my life?


I think about death too often,
my death, I think about too often.

I feel I've lost whatever made me inspired.
whatever made people connect to me.
I feel that the criticisms don't make me better,
they make me think I am the worst at what I do.

I try to take it with a smile on my face
knowing they are trying to help.

Maybe I have lost it,
maybe I should give up.

I awoke in a puddle of tears,
can't remember if i cried last night
or while I slept.

The sun was out today,
but he hid away from me,
so all I saw were his cloudy eyes.

I laid there,
with all my fingers and toes working
but couldn't move them.

Finally I rose,
had my usual pork
and heart attack.

Didn't change any clothes
from last night,
I don't have anywhere to go.

Tried to write this poem
assigned to me,
but only wrote my name
a million times.

Stared at that box of characters
that can now follow you on
your phone, and your computer.

They seemed to laugh at me,
amused at my empty eyes, and my bumpy skin.
At my foolishness and
my childishness, and my
nonsense.

Laid there again,
not completely dead,
definitely not alive.

blank

Trying this again,
and failing,
the words are coming out,
but I can't feel them.

I check my phone
to see if anyone
would check on me,
but there was nothing there,
once again,
not even you.

I watched my characters on
my tv again,
this time I'm slighly amused
by their foolishness and nonsense,
and childishness.

In the shower.
Where I cried a sea of tears
and sobbed alot of nothings.

Came out as though
the only thing I washed was
my bumpy skin and empty tears.

Back in my puddle again,
getting ready for the next day.

this is me.
in front of you,
eyes wide open.
with no tears
but can't you see
the sadness in them.
can't you see yourself in them,
can't you see the love in them?

Although you may be to young
to understand
and too beautiful to comprehend.
I will tell you about this world
this world i live in.

This world you will live in.

This world is not sweet.
This world is the enemy of some
and the death of many.

This world has no patience for tears,
no compassion for the unhealthy.

This big onion of a world has
its folds
and as we peel the folds
we cry,
we cry for the death of many
and the impatience of the tears.

He was thinking of the words
the words to say goodbye.

He was thinking of the kisses
and the hugs
and the love.

The love he no longer felt
for her.

He finally got the courage
the courage to look her in the eye.

He looked in those eyes and
realized he couldn't.

The words wouldn't come out,
the words wouldn't form.

So he thought of the kisses
and the hugs
and the love.

And said goodbye.

I spend most of my time alone.

I take all of the day
going over what makes me, me.
And what has made me, me.

I go over any memory my mind has
experienced, collected and preserved.

I pick them apart,
I try to see what when wrong
when I didn't walk away,
and what could've happened had I said no.

I pick apart the bad memories,
the memories that caused me pain,
and still do today.

I study them.
I cry over them,
I sometimes cut over them.

I rememeber the bad memories more than the good ones.
The bad memories seem to live
just below the surface,
while the good memories
I have to search a whole ocean for.

I question myself on this preservation of pain.
I let it sleep on my shoulders
and darken my eyes.
I let it enjoy me,
enjoy every piece of me.


I spend most of my time alone.

Sometimes I make no sense at all.

But to the memories inside me
that make me me
that controls every part
comes in pieces

pieces of me.

I told you how I finally felt,
hopefully it came out right,
lately everything I've been saying has been wrong,

Has been angry and disgusting,
has pushed you farther away from me.

I'm scared of tainting you with my pain,
but I think I'm too late.

I've turned you into me.
I've made you hate me as much as I hate myself.

I am so sorry.

I used to write every day,
I had a passion.
Every thought was special
It had to go on paper.

Until I met someone,
someone who I thought
Who I thought
could understand me
and my passion.

Not destroy the little of it
that I had received.

Almost all my dreams are gone,
this was the one thing I had left
and it was killed.

Replaced with your dreams and
imperfections.

Not mine.

Find me a body with no feelings,
no feelings so I don't cry over you,
so I don't bleed my legs over you,
so I don't die over you.

when I;m angry,
i throw everything
i hit myself
i cut myself,
i scatter about,
i slam on things.
but i never scream it ouT
MY BRAIN IS ON ANOTHER WAVELENGTH
AND I DONT KNOW WHAT TO DO.

I HATE NOT BEING ABLE TO CONTROL MYSELF
TO LET YOU GET ME SO ANGRY
AND THE THING ABOUT IT IS.
YOU DON;T EVEN CARE.,

I HZATEY OYU I HATE YOU I HATYE YOU.

N N

It’s been awhile since I wrote something worthwhile

A moment since I sat down and told you my thoughts,

Thoughts that came and went,

thoughts that haunted me ever since.



I think I created a space where a part of myself

can think, while another part of myself, stops thinking

to think about you.



This may sound confusing,

but this is just me,

hopefully you’ll see that too.

this morning i woke up, stripped naked out of the womb
cold wind hitting my body, making me shiver
feeling so small
curled up like a ball.

this morning i laid in bed for hours upon hours
thinking of life
the mistakes i made
the ones i wish i could fix and the ones i wish i never made.
feeling so ashamed
stuffing my face in the pillow.

this morning i watched the sun come up
and on my skin i felt its warmth protect me from the dark days
feeling its arms around me
there is a smile on my face.

this morning i woke up alone
no one to cuddle with
tears on my face that they’re gone
never to return
feeling invisible
i don’t get out of bed.

this morning i turned old
gray hair grey eyes
feeling that I'm overdue on earth
i sleep forever.

You tell me lies to find out who I am,
but what does that make you?
The lies you tell me,
put me on a whirlwind of hate and distrust,
and I don't know when the ride will *end.

Today's my birthday
and I cried for the first hour of it.

I feel happy but sad,
just a few months ago
I didn't even want to live

Now I'm in my 20s,
officially a grown-up.

No more teen to fall back on,
I'm gonna miss it.

For the first time in months, I can finally be myself,
I can finally open my eyes and heart to tell you everything I've been holding in,
been struggling to find my heart again,
to tell you my days have
even become hard to breathe in.

Instead of hitting myself and
letting my eyes cry me to sleep,
I started being me and I missed me.
The sad lonely me
but somewhat content with life me.
The no longer angry at the world me,
the no longer I will scratch your eyes out if you even think of asking me a question.

I'm glad I found me again, she's hungry.

Those who say they will never leave you,
are always the first to go.

You love to give me your pain,
to give me the pain that has slapped
you around, kicked you down,
made you hate those who love you.

Your pain has made you turn into
a monster.

Your pain that I've carried since arrival.

It's made me you.

Your pain who I can't fix,
has left me empty.

The pain we carry runs our lives,
and controls me.

Pain that blew our brains out,
swallowed those pills,
and we departed.

i've lost that touch
that inspiration
part of me
half of my soul
gone away.

thoughts are scrambled
can't think straight
days and nights seem
to collide.

can't be myself
what the hell
is going on?

helpp please.

i am dying.

i struggle with life
Out of my control
Not of sight.

pain is all i feel
In my eyes it flows

Simple is what I want
I receive the ok
Settle for the less

I struggle with life
Who doesn't
but what can we do?

Cest la vie

He hurts me in ways,
I can't understand.
He chokes me when I'm drowning
And won't stop until I reach the sea floor.
He can play the victim;
While I feign the warrior role
And comfort him.
He plays both director and writer
And makes me the stagehand as he steals the screen
Then in the end, as the curtain comes down, he's drowning on the ocean floor.

I feel stronger than i did last week
even though my body feels broken.

My heart is beating slower than usual
but i can keep running faster than
rain can fall from the clouds.

My eyes can't see as sharp as they used too
but everytime i see your face
it's clearer than the skies on a spring day.

My legs seem to drag each step i take
but when you start to walk towards me
I lift each leg as though it doesn't hurt.

My arms can't lift groceries anymore
but when you wrap your arms around me
they fall unto you without any struggle.

My past is scars inside and out
but when you're around
it doesn't exist.

The scars i see
every morning i wake up
and every night i sleep
with them caressing me.

Never forgotten shall they be.

Replaced with your face
every morning i awake
and every night i sleep with you
caressing me.

Never forgotten shall you be.

im so sick of this

wanting to improve on my happiness

to have it shut down

and called stupid.


it hurts so bad

when the person

you trust won’t even

let you be happy.


the person you spend

your whole life with

looks at you differently


calls you names

won’t understand

their brain forever

close-minded


explaining over and over

it won’t get through


i want to end it

cut it off

but something keeps stopping me


what’s stopping me?

who’s stopping me?

He seems to take my hurt
my tears
my mistakes.
Use them with his tongue
say failure without a slight change
in his voice
his posture.
I feel smaller than krill
in his vast ocean,
in the dark he keeps me
from reaching the light
from being me.
I've lost the smile in  my eyes
months of crying have darken them.
Secretly i wish he would go away
but how would i exist if he was gone.
I hate him but i am desperately
horribly, sickening in love
with him.
I doubt he knows this
for i keep everything in.
A big ship of secrets that he knows
while inside a trap door are more.
He promised to leave me if i said more
than the ones he knows.
So I'm keeping them hidden
until he goes away
But how can i exist
if he was to go away.