maybe it was that shine in you that helped me through the darkness, maybe it was that darkness in me that made u shine brighter, maybe it was nothing... if so, i thank god for that nothing

This gun feels heavier
Than it does in my dreams,
The dreams that were constantly interrupted
By ***** of paper with familiar names I am called
By these people I can't show my face around them,

Especially during lunch time
Where I mold into my hunch again,
Don't you dare you call it a crutch again,
As I limp into the familiar stalls
Of this ****** bathroom
Where the **** I scream out platters on the stalls.
I keep praying to those walls
Until the choir next door
Starts balling to the basketball stars in the classrooms
Where they are taught
That everything is going to be okay

This blood feels sadder on my skin,
Each door I lock behind me
Doesn’t seem the muffle the police sirens
That echo through my memories of better times.

I plead once more to the walls
Please oh please!
Until the wrinkles on my knees
Were just as red as my white t shirt,
I don't want paper ***** to be thrown
At the Pinstripes I am forced to wear
Written on the crumbled paper
Would be my failures
That my mother would write to me.
And feed it under my jail cell
To help grow the fact that she failed

So here I am
Praying one more time
To this wall of old stuffed animals
Before the police kick the door in.
I’m praying to find happiness
Regardless of how many happy meals
I by for myself,
No matter how many full metal jackets
I pump out of this Glock
It does not cure me of my hollow heart.
I prayed and prayed
And no matter how many times I crossed my fingers
I could never escape to a better time.

Suddenly your eyes awake.
Every day a chance you take.
Tomorrow may never come.
The end of a life with the failing sun.

The echo of the ringing phone echoes, preaches tales of the unknown.
Outside the thunder cries, it's telling lies.
You wished it was.
And your missing hair, highlights your features.
Blatantly beautiful.
Your eyes shine brightly.
Nightly.

Despite your cancer, the evilest of creatures.
You still smile,  your perfection beaming.
The cancer inside is dying to spread.
You will win for as long as you can.
One day you won't awake,
The lord of love your soul shall take.
As he shall catch us all.
(C) LIVVI

Sometimes,
the most honest
thing to do
is to lie

Even though I feel like my heart is bursting,
Technically, it's not the one that's hurting
The heart does nothing but pump blood for the body to survive
It would be unfair to blame it for something it didn't do
but I do blame my Amygdala
for doing such a bad job in controlling these awful feelings I'm not supposed to feel
I blame my lips
for saying your name with the same amount of affection that you do not deserve
I blame my skin
for still feeling your breath spreading on its surface, setting it on fire
I blame my nose
for remembering how good you smell the first time you hugged me  
I blame my ears
for not forgetting how your voice sounded when you say my name
I blame my hippo-campus
for not forgetting the look on your face while you were saying goodbye
I blame my eyes
for the tears that you will never shed for me
I blame my lungs  
for inhaling even though I have no desire to breathe
I blame my pulse
for thinking that I'm still alive
I blame my myself
for everything because I let you ruin me  
I blame myself
for believing that you're still worth it
The worst part is
after all the **** I went through  
I still couldn't bring myself
to blame you

I can hear your back crack,
in the dark.
Removing your underwear
with chewed fingernails:
You softly ask
if we can share scar tissue
and if I'll stay
despite every issue.

You try to kick the covers
off of our bed,
and ask if we can share the thoughts
buzzing inside of your head.

When insomnia erases your eyes
and disease steals your brain:
You inhale ways to die,
because you still dream
but it's not the same.

I can hear the static in your skull.
I know why you keep
the kitchen knives dull.
You pull on my fingers
so I don't forget you.
You cry on the pillows
and hope I like romance too.

I kiss your temple
during each thunderstorm.
I read you books in bed,
because your eyes are worn.
I put my ear to your chest
because I want you to see
that the air you breathe
means everything to me.

“Dialing your number
already makes me nervous
Please
Don’t answer my call
Your hello will be the death
of me”
—

Too often now, I see your face,
it's all it's mournful glory.
Denied are you, a sacred place
within the pages of our story.
Alas, fair maid, we are far gone.
The breeze no longer sings for you.
To live is to shine and we have shone
and our stories will begin anew.
I ask you not for empathy,
for that would make my logic flawed.
Your eyes no longer imprison me
nor anyone else behind false facade.
Our paths will one day cross again, I fear.
When my heart beats quicker, I'll know your near.

Silence says
a thousand words
to the people who cannot see,
but falls upon the ears of deaf
in my final hours' plea.
As I drown in my thoughts
I look up in hate
to you who does not give way
to the girl who would take a gun to her head
and count:

1...

2...

3... BANG.

There is nothing poetic
In the soul-crushing emptiness
I feel inside.
There is nothing beautiful
In closing my eyes
And never wanting them to open.
There is nothing romantic
In the dark, vast loneliness
That consumes my whole existence.
There is nothing poetic
About existing,
But not living.
There is no beauty in the dark.