Your beauty is not the reason for your existence,
Rather, it is your soul that stirs winds within you,
Guiding you further into your own tornado.
No, my dear, your beauty is only a fraction of the person that you are
With the rest conniving and gloriously consuming all who listen
Incubus, I call you, luring in those who seek satisfaction from broken parts.
Tempt me,
with all the cracks in your heart.

the weight of ink is heavier than blood
for it carries the passion and intensity
of a heart set free through the mountains,
the seas,
the valleys
scribbling its way on to pages of our minds
leaving us wanting more,
begging our pens to flow endlessly,
for the pleasure of some and the decay of others.

My favorite time of day is the morning before the cigarette smoke laces through my hair. Theres something so pure and innocent about the morning and the sunshine and the smell of youth. I remember when lollipop sticks stuck out of mouth and my mother would yell that I would rot out my teeth. It's funny really, now the cigarettes hang out of my mouth like candy. Innocence is so pure the way it feeds through your body till some other drug is then the innocence is lost. And that's the beginning and the end to all our problems. We lost our innocence trying to **** the pain and when I say **** the pain I really mean **** ourselves. Because no body at 15 wants to down a bottle of pills just to make it through the day then at 16 drink more liquor than water then at 17 attempt to take your life because it might actually make you ******* feel something. I tried for so long to just ******* feel something like the way I felt heartache and pain and loneliness course through my veins. I tried to ignore it, black it out, I ******* tried. I think I love the mornings the most because the way the have so much potential but still seem to come to a ******* end. They know how to end. I am still learning.

I'm not addicted to you, per say,
I'm addicted the 2 am conversations
Where we talk about nothing but
Everything seems to come out.
I'm addicted to the way your voice cracks
When you're tired and you swear me you're not.
Even though I can hear the hum in your voice and haze in your throat.
I'm addicted to the way your brain twirls on end
When you try and comprehend the things you cannot.
I'm addicted to the way your lungs heave in and out,
And how heavenly you look when you can finally breathe.
No, I'm not addicted to you.
I'm addicted to everything that makes you,
You.

I STOLE A LOOK AT YOU WITH MY BURNT EYES AND FIERY TONGUE
I WOULD **** TO SEE YOU CRY ACID TEARS THAT POURED LIKE RAIN ON METAL
I STILL REMEMBER YOUR BUBBLING TEMPER BURNING BRIDGES WITH STICKY SWEET LIES. ALL MY LIFE ALL I NEEDED WAS A FRIEND AND ALL YOU WERE DOING WAS GETTING HIGH. YOUR MIND WAS LIKE THE NIGHT SKY DARING A SHOOTING STAR IN YOUR GLASSY EYES. I DON'T KNOW WHATS WORSE, MY ADDICTION TO THE PAIN OR YOUR BREATH ON COLD GLASS WHISPERING SOFT I LOVE YOUS IN MY COTTON CANDY DREAMS. YOU WERE ALL I NEEDED YOU WERE ALL I NEEDED TO MAKE MY HEART GLOW LIKE A GEM OR BURN ME LIKE THE FUSE WE LIT WHEN YOU DECIDED TO TAKE ME HOSTAGE TO YOUR EARTHQUAKES. I WAS THE GIRL IN THE WALL AND YOU WERE PLAYING GOD IN THE CLOUDS. BUT TRYING TO LOVE YOU WAS LIKE TRYING TO SWIM IN THE DESERT AND MAYBE I GAVE UP TOO EASY BUT THE SCARS I OWN ARE LIKE GRAFFITI SO I WROTE AND I WROTE AND I WROTE THE STORY I THOUGHT I KNEW THE MOST BUT NOW I SEE THE CRUMPLED TRAGEDIES WE'VE BECOME AND IT KILLS ME TO BE THIS NUMB. YOU CALLED ME ARMAGEDDON AND I GUESS YOU WERE RIGHT CAUSE ALL WE EVER WERE WAS 2 VINES TANGLED UP IN A FIGHT, A 10PM PUNCH AND KISS GOODNIGHT. SO DON'T CALL ME A LOVER IN FACT DON'T CALL ME AT ALL.

My amour,
You have not yet begun to see your beauty blossom.
I am waiting for the day when you realize you will not fall into ash and your skin will not burn like cigarette paper.
But you will shine like June sunrise with soft heat and white light.
You will glimmer in the wake of destruction,
when everything around you is falling apart.
My amour,
You have not felt your own strength
In passion and love
But I am here
Let me show you

I want to be like Mount Saint Helens,
Strong and firm, quaking every couple years in the faces of the helpless.
I want to make newspaper headlines and magazine articles for being fearless and tall,
Sputtering and spewing at those who've wronged me.
I want to be the conquest men dare try,
Out of fear of being swallowed whole.
The deadly concoction of pure beauty and viciousness,
Threatening those who taunt from below.
Unpredictable and dangerously violent,
They still will want my picture and tell their children of me,
Mount Saint Helens glory will never fade,
For her might is much to strong for the common man.
But I,
I will keep on,
I will conquer and cast my plight willingly
And when they see me, they will tremble because they will know of my unpredictability and daunting grace.
A deadly concoction,
That Mount Saint Helens might find idyllic.

Don't call me beautiful,
Or say I shine like a star.
I am a constellation made up of some horrible parts.
I am a disaster supported by weakened knees,
I am the road rage you feel on a Friday night.
I am the raw pain of loneliness and heartache,
That will keep you up in a fright.
But don't let me scare you,
Don't hide in fear.
Keep me close,
I can show you the good,
less miserable parts.
I am also hot water,
That massages your lungs.
I am the serenity you feel whilst reading a book.
I am the blissful silence in the midst of chaos,
I am the delicate nature of humanity.
I am not bad, nor am I good,
I am a mess.
Please don't let it scare you.
Don't cower in fear.
Let me consume you,
Twist my heart around yours.

i’ve felt more at home
cradled inside words
and rocked to sleep by stanzas
then ever being in your bed
i’ve felt growth most
when i’m speaking in tongue
and writing rhythms,
then ever talking to you
you planted my soil
then let me choke on it,
while you ****** the life from it.
i’m growing flowers and life inside
of this body,
i am reclaiming
the revelation
that has started it all
i am washing my art down my body
feeding myself with the love and passion
you never showed me
in this moment i am growing
and my art is ever flowing

The continuum of existence,
The constant push and pull.
No time left for actual learning,
Just dying undercover,
We're just trying to keep our cool.
So next time you actually think,
Existence is something more than a series of points
Plotted on a paper graph,
Remember this, my child,
Life is ****,
It's just waiting for us to quit.

love me
or leave me,
but i’m praying
that you need me.
i could love you, if you
want me too.

4:38 am
And I am thinking about you constantly.
Trying to make you the last thing that crosses my mind.
So that I can hope for any sleep tonight.
The only way I ever sleep these days,
Is in the nape of your neck with your hair like cherry blossom trees,
Dangling over me
It’s wishful thinking I suppose,
To dream of you fighting my woes.
Truth be told, you’re so much more
Like a partner, a friend, a love, my amour

I learned how to write when I could no longer speak,
Time traveled through literature and escaped into a realm of tattered pages and tear soaked ink.
I found my voice inside of forgotten words and unending rhyme schemes.
When I could no longer speak, the ink flowed easily
And the thought flowed even easier.
Releasing my inhibition on to blank pages accompanied by cold coffee and early morning sunshines,
I learned yet again that heroes I regarded sat on top a bookshelf rather than on a screen or in an album.
They gave me voice, comfort, and solace inside of my own head.
The voice I lacked for so many years, came naturally when typing away,
It was then that I finally felt free.

if you’ve seen him.
you’d know,
nothing gold can stay
and this is why,
i can’t wait for the day,
where you turn foe
so i can love you,
endlessly

Is it worth it to go through life lonely?
Or is it worse to go through it blind?

To love a ghost trapped behind a gated core-
Is to love a hollow shell and expect nothing more.

Framework narrowing, crumbling, and cracking
While loose leaf lullabies fable my lacking.

Tiresome symphony's play my heart's theme
While love is grown slow, curated behind sheen.

Endlessly flailing for something more sturdy,
But you can't expect grace when you haven't any glory.

We fall apart, yet again, in the light of the day,
But the nighttime is when our ghosts can play.

War-torn love taints our bruised flesh,
Love you can't feel behind the cloud of regret.

The blissful peace of being near you,
The agony of you leaving too soon.

You cannot make a home inside a person
Who is still rebuilding

love me like lovers do,
even when skies are blue,
love me like lovers do,
like it's just me & you,
love me like lovers do,
love me all afternoon,
love me like lovers do,
even when death is due.

the one thing i miss most about love
is having someone who loves the way you breathe
the simplest kind of love
where your air flows within me
the love that speaks volumes with a single glance
i miss love because i miss the way it feels to have hands through my hair
i miss the heartbeats you have
one for one another

We all exist in this world
Wouldn't it be nice to spend our time
With more memories,
More love,
More life,
Wouldn't it be nice to just live a little more?

the earth tilts,
as does my heart

when i looked in his eyes,
the undeniable rhythm flowed through me.
our dance, was one with our hearts,
i grabbed his
and ****** it inside my chest
with this, his music melted into me
until all we were was a symphony
in perfect harmony

i wish to be the muse
that one day becomes the artist

I think of you in the mid afternoon
When you're yawning from the midst of the day.
I think of you when I roll up my sleeves
And how you never let yours down.
I think of you at 3 am when you are softly sleeping
But I am wide awake,
You see I dream of every inch of you
Every second of the day,
You are like the air in my lungs,
And the goosebumps on my skin
You are necessary, you are inevitable
You are my only end
You are the only one I am thinking of
Inside this troubled head.

i long for days with everlasting horizons
so blue, yellow, and pink
how the colors fold together
into
an eternal simplicity
these days i will hold back my head
look into the sun
and let my soul
free

You are my sailor,
Sailing sea to sea
To eventually see me.
Creating waves in my lungs
Till I am gasping for air
You save me,
Time and time again
From the rough and shallow waters I face
With you, life is an endless blue ocean
And you are my sailor.
Together, conquering the waters
With a smile on our face

someone told me time heals everything
but time is not gluing my heart together and fixing the spaces where you belonged
time is not erasing the image of your body, lifeless and cold
time is not healing anything
all time does is stall.

19 years you spent running away,
19 years you spent killing yourself a little more each day
19 years you spent hugging your knees and praying to god someone heard you screaming
19 years you laid there with a stone for a heart
19 years you shielded yourself from everyone and everything
19 years is far too young,
19 years old and you were my sun.

Conjuring love,
and compelling lust
All the while we call it nature.
But what is more mechanical then telling yourself that you are nothing without it.
We were created alone, and happy.
When did we stop filling our hearts with our own hopes and dreams,
And start letting others fill them for us?

It’s the new year,
Time for resolution, or inevitable revival
The point of this winter season when everything seems…
New and fresh, like anything is possible.
But is it really, if all we will do is make the same resolutions
And live out our consistent, boring lives
Grasping to the idea that change,
Only change,
Will somehow add meaning to the meaningless-
Inspire the uninspired.
We find that so easily our life will pass us by,
And we will cascade into our indifference
For the lives we made for ourselves and the unimportant choices we took
Even though we heard the necessary calling for change,
We ignored it,
Until the year changed and our lives became one year bleaker.
Call me cynical, or pessimistic
But the change we crave, the change we ache,
Is too busy living inside of the dream of a fresh start
Instead of living inside our lives.

I remember the pain,
The gut-wrenching pain-
That consumed
Me
I remember the quiet that followed,
The dead silence-
That soothed
Me
The sound of your voice,
A voice that had used-
Me

why is it these days that all the good die young?
when there's prisoners and felons waiting to be hung.
see it's only the innocent that get hit by blind eyes
when the bad ones they rot, in an eternity of lies
rapists and killers get visitors daily,
while my sisters lucky if anyone thought about her lately.
my good friends are being mowed down like spring grass
and the convicts are playing checkers and sharing loud laughs
the man who killed my sister is sitting in a cell,
while my sister is lying, 6 feet in the ground
how sad is that my friends are fading
while empty jail cells sit anticipating?

in the privacy of my own head
i have found bliss in solitude
and peace in my own body
the itch in my hands has subsided
and my wounds have finally closed
i am done picking open scabs
that have started to heal
and finally letting myself grow

i stopped writing about you not because i forgot about you,
but because the mere thought of you makes my hands explode, shake, gnaw,
pick at all the skin you whispered to me was
beautiful
the mere thought of you sends my heart into a slow melt,
you make it feel like july on the inside
where you’re hot and sweaty and far too close to one another
i can’t write about you anymore because the fragile thoughts in my head
would be destroyed by the heavy weight of your influence

I can't remember the last time I looked into the mirror,
And didn't see the vague shell that I am today.
Because today, my body bleeds passion for the uninspired
My skin, shrink wrapped over hollow tree branches
That extend to the beachy shallows of my body
That not even I can see anymore
I am a withering tree who's leaves cannot grow
And roots are dry
I am the stiff wind in January that will burn your cheeks,
I am the only thing that keeps two people apart.
Yet, I will shout from corridors and mountain peaks alike,
I am fine

I thought you leaving would be the hardest thing to go through,
But it was me, standing there
Walking away from you.
Like a moth to a flame, I am captured by your light.
The irrevocable longing I feel towards your essence,
Is what frightens me when I leave your side.
I fear not of losing you,
But of you losing me
To your greater journey into the light.
In fact, I even feel like you are superior to me
The way coffee is stronger, more bitter than tea.
Walking away on a cold winter's day,
Is more bone chilling than the snow that coats our bodies.
Kissing you goodbye, too soon for now
Your sweet embrace, embellished by sorrow,
Imprinted on my heart but stained with love.
Letting you leave,
I had to let you leave.

mom can you see the woman I've become,
hair as white as elsa's,
voice more passionate than a hug
but mother I'm sorry for my mistakes, my misdemeanors
my unholy ****, scraped off by the windshield much like the bugs.
scraping off my dead skin cells, my tired flesh, my small love
im sorry for cursing the ground that you walked.
im sorry for exasperating your love and good thoughts,
im sorry for being too strung out to give a **** what you thought
but now I hope you see, that i am all you thought I could be
that I am more than my scars, my lost loves, and my horrors
I am seventeen years old but my heart is much harder
because I have seen pain spread greater than a fire
I have seen heartache being men to their knees,
and painful memories spread like disease
my mother I'm inhibited
by self crippling doubt,
I am breathing yes,
but not quite living now.
I pull phony smiles from my lips to my eyes,
I combat the night with sparkling tears in my eyes.
you see my mother I am seventeen years old,
with a trauma like brain, dying, and cold
I might be seventeen but my weakness is ancient,
my lips are the vessels, words carried out through the nations
my dearest mother I love you so, and I am very sorry for the days my weaknesses show.

**** the past, the present, and the future
If we even have one.
I want to be strung up and tangled in your mighty grasp,
Gasping for air between wet mouth kisses and clasping your clammy skin.
I want to forget about the ****** up idea of the world and the form it's taken in society,
And instead take in you, between cigarette drags and Southern Comfort swigs.
I want to feel the pulse of your heart as you ignite with excitement underneath me as our hot skin touches and you yearn for me.
Remember my presence, because passion does not come calling when sought,
It finds its way to you.
And if this ****** up world has brought me to you,
Then here it is-
This is the passion stupid girls like me write ****** poetry about.

im not a doll,
i will not break.
so please just ******* drop me

Today I looked at sun,
I saw the light beams radiate on hill tops and in the crescent of the valleys beneath.
I even saw it shine on the nape of your neck,
As it bounced back off of you,
It took its run on me,
They danced across my skin.
Glowing and morphing into golden hues
Much more beautiful than any moonlight that has walked along this body, along this flesh.
I saw my skin collect and store away the sparkle and twinkle of the sun,
When the day had settled and the night had finally fell upon us,
I beamed, from my finger tips to my toes.
I let that light radiate its ultraviolet passion and its warm love across my body and when I began to speak,
You realized it was not the sun I liberated,
But rather, the sun that liberated me.

tell me something about you,
but don't talk in metaphors.
don't tell me how your eyes shine in similes,
don't use hyperboles to describe the depth of your words.
talk to me like a ******* ******* person.
tell me you love me and hug me so tight till I beg you to stop.
just be with me, please

i’m in love with strangers i pass by
because ignorance is comforting