a secret to
not being hurt
one way prescient
to release and go quiet
I need to quit caring
and go away
alone and barren.

There's a few days
When
I don't think
About you

Those amount to
A total of two
And one of
Those days
I slept
Through

The other
I was too
High to see
And

Too concentrated
On breathing
To feel
The expanse
Of my heart
Breaking


What does this mean to you?

More than something

But not enough to make it all go away...

the way life used to be
isn't what i miss,
it's each individual moment-
lapsing over and over one another
creating an inconceivable picture
of everything i love,
now lost

My heart is having an affair
       with sarcasm
     My mind doesn't want to admit
            the truth
          My soul is in a blissful state
                 of irony
                My eyes are blind to anyone
                       but *you

Her heart pounds uncontrollably
         Thoughts are spinning
     incessantly
She cannot fathom
                a right choice
   So she purposely
       silences her voice
           Why should she go through
    pain for others
When no one will walk through fire
        for her
Why should she get out of the rain
            and thunder
     When everyone shows her
            nothing but anger
   Life is not what SHE chooses,
         she has no say
The only choice she can make,
       is her dying day
           She'll be forgotten
    from then on out
Only memories of a
               pathetic useless girl
       Little did they know,
her pen met paper every night
      So she left words of sadness
for the whole **** world

The crowd around me’s thick with all the faces I’ve created
They’re all bleary eyed, but I still try
To find one that isn’t jaded
I tell myself it’s all my fault, though I know that isn’t true
I still blame myself for all the hell
That you have put me through

Your fire burned my soul and left it’s ashes in my core
Icy veins just can’t sustain
My life source anymore
I don’t want to hide behind the darkness of the truth
It wasn’t me; you’re the thief
That stole away my youth

So I closed my eyes to the monsters you left behind
Now I’m stuck asleep, unaware of my reality

I won’t awake. I died that day
You can’t seem to see, it was you that murdered me
And I just can’t--understand
You shouldn’t be allowed to throw away your child

You shot those words like bullets, now all I see is smoke
Reload the gun, I turn to run
As it seeps from your throat
I walked in on crutches; did you ever let that soak in?
I know you knew, so how could you
Break someone already broken?

I hope your eyes turn white from all that you refuse to see
All you see is you, so it must be true
You’re the queen of everything
Just peel away the flesh and blood you cursed upon my bones
Since it’s yours to take, you won’t hesitate
To sit upon your throne

So I closed my eyes to the monsters you left behind
Now I’m stuck asleep, unaware of my reality

I won’t awake. I died that day
You can’t seem to see, it was you that murdered me
And I just can’t--understand
You shouldn’t be allowed to throw away your child

I can’t seem to wake up. Just want you to make up
For what you said to me, I need an apology.
What hurts me the most is I just won’t let go
Of the kind woman who liked to hold my hand
Penalize, traumatize
Recognize all the lies
Crying, I’m dying
From all of your lying
Lost at sea, I can’t breathe
What have you done to me?
Drowning, I’m drowning, I’m drowning

I won’t awake. I died that day
You can’t seem to see, it was you that murdered me
And I just can’t--understand
**You shouldn’t be allowed to throw away your child

im drunk im sure
because i cant remember whose picture i burned
earlier this morning when it was still dark out
and i really dont want to

because if i start to remember
i might break my promise
that i made someone

the one i can't remember
and i might start to break myself  

and if i break
i might finally wake up after all these years
but i think that i'd really rather stay
drunk on my own tears

Mabel is breathing....
    no one ever visits.
She has tended flowers and done laundry all
    life for others.
No one needs her.
    She has a bad knee and
Neuropathy , subsists now on pain medication and sugars.
    No one calls her.
She envisions one day getting flowers.
    Or hearing again from that gentleman, who
twenty years ago smiled.
    Or her children or grand young ens';
but no one writes her one letter.
     In the cold she wears all those sweaters she knitted.
So no  people remember her, I will!
    I visit and bring the flowers I grew specially
for her,
    the prettiest yellow roses,
while she lives!