Advice is cheap
It comes out so smoothly
easier than compliments
which I could give more freely
Honestly I'd rather listen
and watch our faces tumble down together
as you speak of all the tender places
Life has found to pinch you
But there are no eyes to see upon this black and white screen
and supporting arms must be constructed
out of paper thin words
so flighty in their meaning
which fall apart like card pyramids
at one breath of misunderstanding
My profile is no weighty substitute for
the eternalness of audible sighs of a friend
But I want you to know that I heard you

The sound of feet is isolated in the tunnel.
Echoes of the slow steps of many fill the narrow space.
We march in silence.
Alone among the many.
We do this odd ambitious walk twice daily.
Twice daily this space is filled with the sound of the travelers and the workers.
And what about the times that betwixt the twice daily commute?
An ambiance like no other.
A roaring silence.
For those who have march here
They leave behind an echo,
an imprint of sort.
More ghostly than any ghost.
Haunting these tunnels with their essence
When the sound of feet is not present.

When I am old
and still alive
like embers in the ashes I
will burn the hands
of all who try
to tidy up too soon...

The way a candle dies amazes me
A strong tier of wax
Simple
With only a string within it
Dies slowly
As it gives off light
Melting wax
Drips and drips
Until all that's left is a puddle
It amazes me how
Something that gave off so much light
In times of darkness
Ended up finding itself
Sitting in the same darkness
It had tried so hard to enlighten.

I'm a cast away
From my own
I'm a second away
From all I know
I'm a smiling *****
At least to you
You are a sweet forget
From all I knew.
You are the shrew
Little boy.
I'm not your ****
Or little toy.
You, you I try
To avoid.
Scenic routes
Are better inside.
Inside myself where
I take my own steps.
Being alone I've
Figured is the
Best,

Isolated
In the trap
I have
Set.

Isolated
From the hurt
The remorse
Regret.

Isolated
Gracias
From the past
Day's.

I have Now
Grown. Me
No one owns
I am a girl not a slave.

I gave it my all
With now what I have,
The worse will get better,
The better don't turn bad.

I won't let the
Bad
Into
My
Head.

I figured out my suicide plan doctor
You've been asking if I had one
And now I do
I want to swallow just enough pills
Not to much
Just enough to make the voices in my head finally go way
Then I will climb to the roof
with my note books
Every single thing I've ever written
And I will bring my best friend
*****
Yes doctor, I've told you that I have other friends, but ***** was here when no one else was
And I will write till the voices come back
I will write about every time I have tried to **** myself
I will write a letter to everyone who knows me
Even the janitor that found me skipping class my sophomore year
And the boys on the bus from middle school
Even the people who wont let my name soil their lips
Doc, I'm gonna write these letters because I need everyone to have a permeant personal good bye, something physical
I will fill up two note books with everything I write
And then I will write to whatever god there may be
And tell them I'm sorry that I had to end everything this way
You see doctor I've never believed in God, but if there is even a small chance he's real I don't want to leave on bad terms
I'm going to write down every coping skill I know and address it in a letter to my parents
Then once I can no longer write even my name
I will stand and dance in the light of the moon
Letting the soft glow dance on my skin
And I will ignore the chill of the night
I will dance till my knees shake
And then I will speak to the moon
Doc the moon is like *****, Its always been there
I will apologize to the moon
Reaching to hold it in my arms
Toes on the edge
I will fall reaching for the moon
And in the final moments I will rejoice in the cool wind nipping at my skin
I will bask in the soft shimmer of the stars
I will say I'm sorry as the soft grass makes contact with the back of my head
You see doctor I've figured out my suicide plan

Sitting in the dark
For how long?
I have no idea.
I have a plan.
Maybe if I sit here long enough
I can make time stretch out longer
I don't want another day to end
A kind of day that was meaningless
A routine
Being alive,
But not being "alive"
Been having those a lot.
Plaster a smile
Fake a laugh
Go home to be alone
Because alone is the best thing for me
Or so I think.

Maybe if I sit here long enough
I can make time stretch out longer
Maybe,
Just maybe,
Something might walk into my life tonight
And give my day meaning.