Letters and words doesn't make a poem
There's more to it than that
Poems were the tears that tumbled out
that the eyes can't hold no more
They  were the sound of broken hearts,
that strive to beat ones more
For what are words
but formed letters?
And letters a broken word?
While  poems are bits and pieces
of a poets gentle soul

The reason why I love you
Must be because I hate myself.
I know, this time and place doesnt help.
But baby this is worse
than any pain I've ever felt

You're killing me slowly  
day by day
I bleed
and my wounds remain unknit,
to spill my guts to the floor to
leave me open
stranded

He watches from aside,
As I kiss his picture
and take my own life
I wonder if he'd even cry
If he had watched me die

Homesick in my own home because home isn't a place,
It's the feeling of belonging and those who make me feel so live so far away.

Homesick in my own town where I was born and raised,
Homesick for the people that I love, for the people I wish had stayed.

Keep your hands where I can see them-
Not at the small of my back where your fingertips could roll down my spine and ignite the open fuses in my heart.

Keep your words in your throat-
Swallow them down the same way I swallowed the lump in my throat when I realized I was a trophy on your shelf, a prize that collected dust.

Keep your heart within your ribcage-
Don't offer it out in slivers of affection, in segmented allocations of desire and lust. Keep your ******* heart contained if you can't even keep it whole.

Keep to yourself, it's all I really ask-
I used to ask the opposite of you, though I came to see that you had a padlock on your heart I couldn't figure the combination to.

Please keep far away from me; don't check in and don't text, don't call and don't bother because I can't answer calls from the past nor can I keep my heart to myself when you can't keep to yourself.

every sooften, a day will wash over     leaving me
a little paler, a little thin ner

for the most part I crush it like a can and bury it in my chest,
pretend it's a necklace, wear a face to match
I'll take breaths so deep, but my chest won't move
up    or down, some days

I cut it into pieces, dangle it from the ceiling and watch it glint in the  
sunlight, some days

I pull it over my head like a blanket, and keep the dayshine
at bay, leave my limbs pale a little longer

somedays
it's almost a comfort

some days, It's almost as if
I breathe it as it
breathes me and

the wind we create together carries us
in it's length across
the valleys of our        
small universe

all the magic mushrooms and popped pills
all the heart-racing clubs, and sunsets,
laying on dew, high,
seeking out foreign planets.
never amounts to anything.
for any substance
or celestial body
trying to satisfy my soul,
couldn't bring me closer to you.

She was the bottle that said "drink me"
And lifting up her dress I did just that.

Stale bread
Yale bread
pouring its mould into my head
penicillin in my eyes
I am cured
the whole world dies.

Yesterday sits heavy on my mind
the chiming of the shocking blondes wrap
tightly,
bonds which make the chains and lies
I am cured
the whole world dies.

This universal remedy
this magic
of calamity
the panacea of which I did not see
cures me as
the whole world dies.

Whisper me how I am.

Tell them how I really am,
not a shell of me,
or a new body of me.

Tell my real thoughts,
my real values.

Tell how I looked under the moonlight,
when you whispered "I love you"
Right into my right ear.

Tell them how when I was down,
you came around, and held me tight.
Whispering that it would be alright.

Don't sit there and lie.

Don't tell them that I'm just another girl, because I'm not.

Please.

Whisper me how I am.

You need to reach out
- that's what I was told

I confided in a number of people

Sat across a lot of wise spectacles
Sympathetic coffees
Blank invites
Dispassionate loves

You need medication
- that's what I was told

I popped a number of pills

Over months,
White, long
Yellow, small
A number of nights
Crazy eyes,
Erratic behaviour
Strange moodswings

You need a change of scenery
- That's what I was told

Miles and miles of sand
A sea extending into the sky
My heart became the feather
That landed on waves
And sank
Far below
The understanding of humanity

Went to the hills
Stream flowing by
Which iced over at night
Bare apple orchards
Green and stone
Woke up at 4 AM
From where I stood,
I couldn't see the sunrise

My spirits
Shattered and fell
Along with some rocks
Off the cliff's sheer face
As I ended up
On my hands and knees


You need to meditate
- that's what I was told

Pure silence at 4 AM

That's what I woke up to
And I sat for an hour everyday
Trying to focus on
The "om" I was told about
With the last echo
I was left bereft of purpose
Vision and energy
I couldn't move on
With the day