We were hopeful fools
To think that your broken could heal mine
To want eachother to be our reason for life
To explore the ruins of our souls
And try to turn ashes into treasure
We were infatuated with the geography of our scars
How truly delirious we were
To try and make them a gallery of art
There are wounds inside of us
Far more painful than anything that ever bleeds
We have shadows that cling to our skins
Like a rotten stench
Yet here we sit
Like flies
King of the dump
Scuttling in search of happy endings

I’m being told to love myself,
But how can I when I wish to be anyone else.
How can I when nobody else wishes to love me,
But instead choose someone better, prettier despite no personality.

I break down all too often, as I stare at my reflection.
Wishing I looked different, praying that tomorrow I’ll look different.
I’m not sure if it was the month or if it was just a need to cry,
But nobody loves me, and neither do I.

My smile shows off teeth that aren’t fixed to perfection,
Sometimes in shop mirrors, I’ll glimpse the reflection.
It brings my mood down, way down below the surface,
And I wish that tomorrow; pray that tomorrow I will look different.

Natural beauty is not my friend,
Make-up won’t stay on my face,
There’s all too much I wish to change,
I’d rather just copy and paste.

In a room full of people,
I’d be last on your list,
She would be first and that’s just how it is.
I’ve come to accept it, yet still dying inside.
She wishes to flaunt and I’d rather hide.
I have little confidence whilst she seeps way too much,
But I guess that’s what you like and I guess that’s what you love.
So a reminder to myself, from present and from past,
To use in the future, your hurt never lasts.
Next time you are deeply hating yourself, and you can’t find the will to live,
Please read this back until it sticks in your head,
And you find the strength to forgive.
Forgive yourself for feeling this way, and know that it’ll pass,
Because your head is held high and within the sky,
You’ll see his face is shaped like an ***.

I’m lost in the game of pretend, everything is fine. I waste time and breath and life to just get far enough away from the pain and disappointment, so it doesn’t hurt anymore. I’m fine...

It’s not about you stealing my life, precious years left of my precarious youth. You showed me I’m still weak and broken. You’ve shown me I still can’t walk away from the burning red flags you waved. I am not able to walk away from being hurt, over and over!

I made excuses for your beast, I hide from him as I did my own feelings of revolt and fear. I stayed, I should have left, as soon as I met you. I should never have let you tear away so much of me, to ruin so many precious memories.

Unfortunately now I’m still running and I’m still hiding from these feelings inside. I don’t want to admit that I’m the one that’s broken and I’m the one that can’t seem to walk away from the fire, no matter how much it burns.....

maps are for lost
fools, going in predictable
directions, too afraid
of the unknown.
they'll never step off
the concrete, never feel
the rub of untouched
brush against their skin
or the adrenaline of
where the **** am I?
they play by the rules,
in lust with their cookie
cutter by the book lives.

maps. charted journeys.
these things don't interest me.
i want scrapes up and
down my arms and legs
because i dared venture too
deep. i want bruises and
bleeding because i got lost,
too lost. i want to get lost.
i want to lose the map.
i want to lose my little
here dot, the one that
follows me, red and angry
because i don't stay on the
path to that cookie cutter
life.

i want off this route. this
one that leads only to
                                  y o u.