i am shattering like glass
as everything around me slips away
reality fragmenting, i reach to grab shards
sharp enough to slit my own wrists

i return to tendencies of self destruction
like returning to an abusive ex
because even when things are bad
there is comfort in the familiarity pain.

— dis(comfort)

i held an old friend to my wrist tonight
panicked and unable to breath
a mess of sickening sobs
he pressed down against me
holding me in a comforting embrace
the tears soon ceased
and again i could breath
beneath my wristwatch band
i’ll keep this forbidden secret
nobody can know but me
nobody can know but me.

— relapse

fists clenched with white knuckled force,
my nails pierce this skin and
blood trickles down fingers from these
perforated palms, and i can’t help
but to think how this pain
is nothing but a distraction.

— biting your tongue to stop the tears only goes so far

my wrists ache with desire and these lungs hitch
and heave with each sickening sob.
as my body begs to feel,
and my heart begs to not.

— to feel everything and nothing at once

she was war,
a collection of cuts and old scars,
armored in the pain of her past,
bones of ash and thorn.
blood like spilled scarlet wine
splashed across the bathroom floor,
she cried alone—
unseen,
unknown.
but for all the tears, she rose to her feet
and sat upon her barbwire throne
for these bones still ache,
this body still bleeds,
these lungs still breathe,
and this heart still beats,
still beats,
still beats.

— my heart is not a home for cowards

i stare into the mirror and tired eyes stare back. a broken smile, ink drops dripping from tilted teeth, licorice liquid pulsating through vaurien veins. i can hear the beating of my heart in my ears, echoes of once was, this is, and will be's. she whispers to me. who is it that holds this heart, is it you or is it me?

the mirror stares back into me and wicked tongues weep. what words do you say and what do they mean?  what does it matter with words you can’t keep. static stains this tabescent mind, ink drops dripping like spilled scarlet wine, whiskey words of whispered repeats. who is it that holds this heart, is it you or is it he?

silence fills the room once more,
sitting behind your locked door.
open your eyes, a notification rang.
you’ve fallen asleep with the tv on again.
distractions, noise to keep your mind away,
one more play,
one more play,
one more play.
are you still watching?
are you still there?
or have you again let your mind wander elsewhere.
change the subject, change the story,
write another allegory.
turn off the screen, lock the door,
it's time to fall asleep once more.


― i don’t know how to make things better

my heart hangs heavy this morning
and air escapes my lungs easier than it comes.
drowning in the silence
and the static of what you say,
i am alone today.


— nothing has changed

i like the rain.
the sound, the smell, the feeling against my skin.
its warm water seeps into my roots and and feeds my restless soul.
but it’s raining a bit too hard,
and my leaves are falling,
my flowers are wilting.
petrichor stains my stinging lips and fills my lassitude lungs.
there’s too much water.
rain turns to rivers and rivers turn to waves.
i’m afraid i’m drowning.


― i need a minute to breathe

i often find myself
wishing the rain would wash me away,
that a storm would shake my leaves
and rip up my roots,
and carry me along the waves.


― i've heard drowning is a peaceful way to die

rain against the rooftop,
an old melody in my head,
and a bittersweet taste against my tongue.
early may’s rain falls quick and soft
to april’s soft flower bed,
and steals away the setting sun.

it is with quick resolve
and soft delay
that i sit here,
overcast,
alone today.


— a night in may

i think i might disappear today,
take to the water and wind.
sink to the ocean and fade away
until i have become nothing.


— it’s quiet at the bottom of the sea

i exist in conveniences;
in habitual i love yous
and obligated i’m here for yous.
in calculated i cares
and loathsome i’ll listens.

i exist in conveniences:
i love you (when it’s convenient)
i’m here for you (when it’s convenient)


— i exist (when it’s convenient)