we had a silent love
like a loose tooth
and no doors to slam,
just your rhymes
without any reason
and your pills made you
sicker than the season
we didn't speak a word
to eachother & i realized
that i needed you
right after you got tired
of chasing me.

i swear,
your eyes used to
drip honey when
you talked about
me, i swear they
did.

sometimes you just have to
drink yourself to sleep and
hope you don’t get ill seeing
all the smashed hearts
on the sidewalk
in the morning

i was 6 years old
and he told me that
i wouldn't dare tell my mother
about what happened
when she went to sleep

i never understood
why it's called "making love"
when all i ever wanted to do
was crawl into a deep dark pit
and erase my existence
from everyone's memories.

so the second time
my arms were held beside
my shaking body
as i whispered "stop"
into a boys mouth
with hate so heavily
coating his tongue
and teeth
it rubbed off into me
i didn't say a word
in the morning
because that's how i
was raised.

love is a foreign word
to the people like me
who didn't just
lose their virginity.
i threw mine into a well
and never looked back

i can only
think about you
in sad, short gasps.

i spent the day with him.
i listened to him
talk about drugs for hours,
then let him **** me
till it hurt
to look at him.
i'm not in love,
i just lust for him
in a tired, quiet way.

we were on his porch
when i snuck away
for just a few minutes to
call you and say
to your voice mail:
"the sky's on fire.
it's orange, red and pink.
it's really something you should see."

and it's back to him
and his nicotine lips.
he's an old soul
he's a free spirit
he's creative and
he's slept with everyone i know.

i wish you were here.

i fell in love with death
and she apologized.
i asked why
but as i began to close my eyes,
i understood.

i understood
when i burned down
all the churches
because i was upset
your shoulders
weren’t framed
in a single one.

i wonder
when you’ll realize,
the emptiness
of a bottle
doesn’t replace
the emptiness
you feel.

my body shatters upon impact with any
innocent glance belonging to someone
i feel is capable of the damage
i have become so fragile under
sometimes i feel like the dishes
you smashed against your walls
and other times i feel like the
dripdripdrip coming from your
bathroom sink faucet, it's there
but you don't notice it.
the point is, all i am are fractions
of you while the real me is
trapped in every empty sigh
you released every time i said
"i love you" in hopes you'd repeat
but knowing you wouldn't

your teeth are still dug into my
shoulder, your nails have made
a graveyard of my back
i am going to pull every single
one of them out and i hope
i hope you feel it

i've been slamming my fragile little fists into dry wall for so long
i get angry at myself when my knuckles aren't bleeding
my mind isn't the cleanest it's ever been right now, but this is what feels like home.
there's stains on the carpet, the curtains in the kitchen window are ripped at the bottom, and sometimes the sink gives you cold water when you ask for hot.
i'm in love with my own faults and failures.
one time, i set a candle too close to the couch and watched everything go up in what looked to me like a southern sunset. next thing i know, they're calling me an arsonist.
the pills they put in my mouth to clean up all the ash made my home more like a hotel and everything smelled like a hospital.
i am sweating alcohol on a wednesday morning, i am gasping for air with a cigarette in my hand, i have been crawling in broken glass, don't you dare talk to me about holiness.
i want to tell you that in spite of all of that, i am free, but i'm not. i'm just used to it.

i'm fine when i can feel someone next to me
when my words lazily roll off my tongue and into heavy air
when someone's subtle and quiet gestures suggest
that i am somebody they like to be around
i'm fine when the world feels warm
from the love that swarms in and all around it

it's the spaces between that get me
the 53 seconds of time it took between
my thumb pressing the "send" button and the reply
hearing the laughter coming from the other room,
but not the joke preceding it
eating cheap dinner alone in my bedroom
while watching my favorite 90's sitcom

these gaps, these pauses, they are the ugliest parts of me
there is not a second of these moments that go by
that i am not wishing for a reassurance, a validation
a reminder that i am heard and noticed and loved
and that i have a purpose here, and reasons to stay

i need to be reminded that i have reasons to stay

i don't think i'll ever forgive him
for choosing me to suffer without you
you were ripped from me
i have been at the bottom of the sea
he thought an ark would save everyone
i'm still here, i am drowning
i am the prodigal son,
confused, setting fire to every pew
that made me believe in him
more than my own self
i don't need him like i need you
i will baptize myself in your name
i will crucify my body and let
my soul find itself your way
until that day comes, i am
waiting for you to join me
let's tessellate.

everything i say
is poison so i
bite my lip and
hope i never tear
a hole through.

lord knows you
can’t handle
anything with
a kick.

lately
i haven't been able
to decide which is worse;
drowning
under the weight
of the crashing waves
or killing myself
from the thirst
of avoiding them.

you try to alter fate;
fate is
persistant,
stubborn,
resistant.

he is a spoilt child
who stomps his foot on the floor
to get what he wants.

you’re the one
who cuts the telephone line
and then tries to call for help.

your mother died before teaching you
how to deal with death
and the only way
to bleed out the sadness
was to wrap your hands
around my neck and i,
i ripped open my own *******
chest so you didn't have to get
your hands *****
and you told me
you wanted someone
with a little more

restraint

it was a love,
so sudden and fierce,
it scars your palms
when you press them
together to pray
and you only prayed
when his sad, tired eyes
looked at you
when he said your name
and it hurt the both of you
for different reasons.

don't talk to me
about holiness,
i've been on fire
for a year now.

he didn’t pray,
but he took a few seconds
to catch his existential breath
and when he did that,
he closed his eyes
and the doctor asks him
to read the bottom line
and it’s the name bullies called him
in the 6th grade.

that’s when you put
your head on his chest
and felt his heart beating
all the way inside yours.
then he tells you he feels like
flowers are growing from his knees
because they get weak
when he thinks of her,
but he didn’t mean
to say that and
he’s sorry.

he’s sorry and so are you,
and things start to burn,
like that time in 3rd grade
you put the candle
too close to the curtain
and watched your life
turn to ashes,

except it hurts
3 times worse
when it’s a beautiful boy
you didn’t know
was capable
of liking
someone
like
you.

sometimes, when i lay down in bed at night
i still think back to being 13 years old and
sitting in that lawn chair on your apartment balcony
and smoking a cigarette, listening to the song
"hospital" by lydia
and taking in the words
"i'll never ever leave there, i'll never leave."
i thought i wouldn't, at least.
nothing really mattered when
side walks and street lights at 11pm
and never being alone, always felt heavier
than anything else, in the best way,
and i miss that comfort.
you were the last thing i could honestly call home.
that means a lot when you can't remember
the last time someone meant to
touch you.


we like to think that we are
made of beautiful things until someday,
someone opens our mouth and
bats fly out and we realize
we’ve been empty
the whole time.

sometimes
i worry that depth of emotion
is a finite resource and i've
wasted all of mine on **** like
being so lonely i can't breathe.
but it's sunday,
i don't go to church,
instead, i painted my panic gold,
and wore it on my head
like a heavy crown.
no one bats an eye
when i say that i'm too embarrassed
with this life that i want to end it, but
thank you for being so lovely,
kind, and supportive.
i am not shaking.
this is shame.
this is it for
a prayer.

i used to think you just wanted to warm your hands
but i realized you really do want to watch the world burn instead
what an awful way to have wasted all the love i had

wouldn't it be useless
to ask you to take me back
after miles and miles of
missed phone calls
and 3 break ups

simply because i want you

it wouldn't work
because you just want a girlfriend
someone to hold when
the nights get too cold
and eyelids feel too heavy
you want comfort

i want all the pain
that is being yours

in 10 years
your body will be
covered in ink
and i will look back
on the days i used to
make the most intimate
c o n t a c t
with the flawless
ivory silk you called
skin, a version of you
that was young and
pure

i'm so exhausted lately.
it's getting harder to speak
and laugh in the right places.
i used to know names,
now it's all mashed into
one big blur of things
i wish i could still care about.
i will spiral out of control
until i crash into a
helpless, stubborn, ball of pity
which i will be buried
and remembered as.
i haven't ate much
in the past few days.
i feel like i'm
rapidly deteriorating
but i don't want to
go back to the hospital.
i don't want to do anything.
i don't even want to die.
i'm just in this perpetual
suspended animation with
no negative or positive progress,
i'm just hanging in the world
without anyone, i am so alone
in this recess of frozen time
that i have completely lost
all human characteristics
as i evolve into this
monstrous, out of control
being of sadness.
this is more than a lack of identity,
it's a lack of feeling.

i am only fragile in the
hands of someone i love
that explains why i can
come home, call you, and say
"i'm tired, i need to be held together"

that's when you wrap your
words around me like the
warmth of my favorite blanket
and i wither into nothingness,
return, and repeat the process

i bet even after all this time
that if my chest were to
ache with emptiness enough
like it used to i could go to your house
and find the outline of our bodies
on your dark blue bed sheets
i have spent the last year
both trying to run from you
and find you at the same time
but i left everything i knew
about falling in love
on that mattress and
it's still settling there
like dust and
all i can do is write about you
until it comes back to me,
or by some kind of miracle,
you decide to.

the most memorable
first kiss i've ever had
was shared with you.
i leaned in, pressed
my lips against yours
and i put my hands on
your chest. you threw
your head back and
laughed like a God.
i've spent over a year
being confused as to
why you did that and
why you never explained.
i know now that it's because
you knew i was looking
for your heart and you
knew that you didn't have one.

unless she's given it back,
you still don't.

some days i'm depressed because i don't understand myself.
i don't get why i wake up angry most mornings, or why the world around me feels so loud when i don't even get out of bed.
some days i wonder why your absence makes me want to *****, when i'm not sure i even miss you.
i'm trying to find the connection between the two.

there's this moment, every morning at about 8:30 when i'm smoking my first cigarette of the day, when i feel every cell in my body collapse and rearrange in strange ways i don't understand just at the sight of a patio chair that you could be sitting in.
there's this single sigh of desperation when i almost wish you were out of jail so you'd call me over to make love with such incredible intimacy and passion, then forget to follow through again.
you haven't done that in a while, i think you meant it the last time you said you didn't want me and you never have.
i still think you'd like me better if i were still in your bed.
i think i'd like me better, too.

i've started writing so many ******* poems
and i can't finish any of them because
you took my ability to have closure
when you walked away.

here i am

gripping my pen
tight enough to
turn my knuckles
white

while trying
to write about
letting go

im addicted to the feeling
of emptiness in my body.
first, panic,
then comes comfort
in knowing i will soon be
smaller
than every conversation
weve tried to hold in the past year
and now that i can think
with my head clear, no longer
suffocating under the weight
i carried of the love i thought
was shared, i realize that nothing
that came out of our sorrow bleeding
mouths ever held any meaning.
the meaning lied in the dark
like i did all those nights when i
couldnt close my eyes and turned off
all the lights to pretend i could.
i will weigh even less than
what i meant to you and
maybe after that,
your weak, bruised,
needle loving arms can be
wrapped around me
comfortable enough
for the both of us.

i want to show you how lovely my room
looks when i first wake up and the
light is pouring in through cracked blinds
but a picture doesn’t do it justice and
a response from you has become even
less frequent than a thought about
something other than you and your
tragically well put together writings
that never seem to be addressed
to me anymore but i think that
if i were to put a few more states and messy
goodbyes between us then you might
just find me interesting and worth
your time again

i wonder if i'll ever see
anything as breath taking
and self shrinking as the
sight i caught, looking at
the sun hiding behind her
with it's rays surrounding
her figure, highlighting her
champagne bubble laugh

the summer and i both
have a crush on her

Not a poem, more of an update.

Basically, I'm back! I'll be posting here again regularly.

Also, 99% of the poems I posted here were about one boy. We ended up becoming best friends and it turns out he's actually a horrible person. Just thought it was kind of funny to log into this account and look at all my old poems and think "******* I didn't even know him at all" and thought y'all might get a kick out of that too. It's weird how things end up.

Let me know who's still around! I assume most of my regular followers completely forgot about me haha. Just wondering if I'm talking to no one here.

Either way, I'm glad to be back and I hope you all enjoy what I have to put out here.

i wanna sleep in
spend the weekend on my back
my bed is a grave

i will not be nice
i feel lousy all the time
i can't stand myself

i remember
one of the times
i got scared and
called it off,
you found someone else.
when you told me
you still loved me
at 3 in the morning,
i asked you, in a
desperate attempt
for you to hurt me
more than i had
hurt myself,
"did you sleep with her?"
your answer still
to this day
leaves me wondering
if i want to break
her hands
or my own.

15, sitting on the edge of your bed,
you told me that you couldn't love me
because the small of her back
fit so perfectly pressed against your palms
and the pink colored thighs matched
the flushed cheeks, and it always,
always drove you wild to watch her
strip down, layers of cotton, denim,
lace.
i asked you if the weight of her own
existence kept her up at night, or
how she got that crescent shaped scar
placed delicately under her left eye.
the blank stare you replied with
made me wonder what the point
to seeing someone naked was
when all they take off are
their clothes.

6 months later, you tell me that
skin renews itself every twenty seven days
and it's been 4 weeks since
you last held her. you smiled
with full lips and said you felt like
you finally rid yourself of her.
it's been a year since
you really spoke to me and
i'm still wondering how
you could love someone if
all they touched was your skin.

it is until it isn't
it does until it doesn't
you are until you aren't

three statements i refuse to believe
one idea pressed into me like
hot metal on a wrinkled shirt sleeve
discouragement is a word
from which i am free
sixteen is a number
i will not let hold me

you said you could never hate me,
but what if i told you
what i did,
what i've been doing
who i've been doing*
and how old he is
and who he's married to
and what if i told you
that i think i like it?

you said you could never hate me,
but what if i told you
i thought of him
when you squeezed my hand
one
two times
and gave me a half smile?
what if i told you
that when he did that
i thought he was
pumping blood
straight into
my body.

you said you could never hate me,
i'm sorry i'm sorry i'm sorry.
i'm sorry.
i'm sorry i'm sorry.
i'm so sorry.

1) be more honest with others about how i feel. i have no reason to waste my time trying not to "hurt your feelings" if i need to call you out for problematic behavior.
2) be more assertive. i've spent way too much time biting my tongue. it's time to get what you want.
3) learn to say no. i am not obligated to do anything that would harm me physically, mentally, or emotionally under any circumstances.
4) get out more. spend less time in bed. don't turn down people that want to hang out and don't cancel plans just because you're depressed and fatigued. you're always pleased with the outcome of pushing yourself to get out there. remember that, but also know your limits.
5) don't act so vulnerable. smile less. speak louder. express anger when needed.
6) think with my brain, not my heart. do what i need to do. think clearly now, write about my feelings later.

i'm trying to figure out
how many times the words
i can't do this to myself anymore
will run through my head
before i give in to the voices
fighting back with, "you're so alone."

you'll see him again-
different face, a different name,
same situation allowing you
your make believe fairy tales
starting with an innocent smile
and ending with empty veins
spilled on the bathroom floor-
you can't clean that up, but
at least you got to be held
during all the chaos.

this is me, learning
what the space between
never and again
really looks like.