Wounds that cut you so deep,
Hit you in your core.
Leaving and never looking back.
Exiting straight through the door.
Trying to figure out,
What the Hell I even stayed for.
There won’t be any blood,
No guts, no gore.
I’ll just leave peacefully,
You can have your little *****.
Don’t even beg for me to stay.
I’m not coming back for more.
I know you’ve made mistakes,
You can just stay tuned for what’s in store.
See my broken heart?
See how it’s tore?
This heart has gone through Hell,
I’m done with losing battles, it’s time to win the war.

The patio sits, above below passing cars,
While two empty chairs, make wishes on far away stars.
Same wishes on different nights,
Same empty responses,
Like knocks on doors of houses without any lights.

No answer, because no one is home.
Because maybe he’s just too afraid of not being alone.
That’s all he’s ever known,
To be surrounded by a million people, but to still be alone.

Not knowing how to act, when someone actually cares,
Not knowing what to do,
When someone comes around and loves you for you.

The first night you stayed in my bed until the sun rose the next morning,
I was afraid to fall asleep out of fear that you wouldn’t be by my side
When I awoke the next day.
I lay on my side, you on your back, and my cheek on your bare chest.
I listened to your heartbeat like a loud lullaby trying to pull me to sleep.
I watched your eyelids, waiting for them to crack to see if I had fallen to slumber
But they never did.
Your chest elevated up and parachuted down in a perfect sync
With the heartbeat drumming in my ear.
Occasionally, I walked my fingertips softly up your chest as if your body were a mountain
And my fingers were hikers exploring your beauty and landscape.

I want to punch you.
And push you away from me.
Please pull me closer.

Enclose me within your arms,
Give me warmth,
Love me,
And please,
Do not stop.

I have loved you in the coldest of snowstorms that winter has to offer,
Felt your warmth through the curve of your lips,
The music of soft fingertips. My body is your piano,
We write a different genre of music when we love.
There are warm rays of sunshine cast over our flesh
And the snow glistens with the light you shine in.
I’ve never felt safer, wrapped in the protection of your arms
During the loudest thunderstorm in the middle of spring;
When the skies are dark and grey, lightning shooting like swords
Against earth’s ceiling.
I’ve held your naked body against my own,
Drawing over the cliffs of your hip bones, the valley of your
Belly button and the mountain range of ribs,
The cage that protects your heart from the heat of the
Summer temperatures that I hold within me, your warm
Anatomy heating my body like the core of earth:
From the inside out.
I’ve ran my fingers through the sweet sweat resting over
Your back, like droplets of dew on a leaf in the early morning
Humidity of summer after a night of making love.
We watch the leaves change color ad stroll softly
To the ground in autumn.
The temperatures begin to drop and the branches are naked
And bare, like my skin in summer while we sleep.

I’ve loved you like the snow that grips the bark.
I am cold, but winter has always been your favorite.

Laws that get me in trouble.
Mostly for public intoxication
After wandering aimlessly down
Lost streets.
Love I never receive; or gift anyone with either.
Liquor that takes the pain away
If only temporary.
Love fades,
Feelings change,
And the hangover the next morning
Reminds me of why I hate myself
After downing my first shot of alcohol
The night before.
So I start drinking again for breakfast
And the next morning will play out the same.
Endless truths hide behind lies
And luck has never been something I’m  good at.
Life is a game and I can’t ever seem to win,
I lost. I lose. I’m losing.
Over and over again
People call me a lowlife and say I’m going nowhere.
Liquor cures the lonesome for the night
And men tell me they love me.
I believe them.

I hate the word “love.”

I really do wish that I could say,
My past has made me better,
Instead of bitter.
But I’d be lying.

And I wish that I could say,
I don’t get jealous, I don’t care,
And that I don’t think about you.
But those would all be lies too.

If you are an aging book tossed on an empty shelf
Left to dust,
I will be the librarian who remembers you.

Even in my graying days and wrinkles,
I will find you within the musty bindings
Upon the shelves.
I will pluck you off,
Bypassing all of the others
That try and grab me as I walk
The narrow aisles.
I will push them back into their place
For you are the only one I have eyes on.
I will find you and blow the dust
Off your shoulders.
I will run my fingers over you,
Feeling your cover, your back, your spine
Before opening you and sifting through your pages,
Reading your story and discovering your scars
Where the corners have been folded over.

But I will love you long before
I ever open your cover and begin to read.

You keep me up at night,
Replaying those images.
You distract me from my work,
Playing pictures on different pages.

You give me laughter,
But you also provide me with that pain,
For one, I love,
And the other I wish I could refrain.

You replay the old times,
I like to pause the best,
But the hurt comes around,
Lingering on my chest.

You take me to a tunnel,
Where I can’t seem to find the light,
Feeling hopeless within the darkness.
Lost without my sight.

You bring the good times back around,
Some sort of effort to rescue me,
Bringing back my vision,
And allowing my eyes to see.

You haunt me at your worst,
Make me go insane.
No matter what I do,
I can’t rid myself of this pain.

You’re what keeps me up at night,
You’re the reason I can’t sleep.
You’re what haunts me,
And the reason I’m in this hole that seems too deep.

He was the kind of man who
Rarely said, “I love you” first.
Hearing him say those three
Magic little words before I did
Always caught me off guard,
Like a child digging in the
Cookie jar and getting caught
Red handed by his mother.
I smile like the child does
When he’s finally allowed
A cookie for dessert.
The love we shared
Was like a family
Before it had even began.
I am the child that grins
Every time I’m allowed a cookie
And he is the mother that
Always gives in to my cravings.

Skip the coffee,
And breakfast in bed.
I’d rather you stay by my side,
And feed me with kisses instead.
Wrap me in your arms,
While under the sheet,
Smother me with love,
And I’ll be complete.

As a young girl myself, I was taught by own mother, that I should never talk to strangers.
It is now that I look back and I see that I spent a majority of my childhood with one.
Every Wednesday, I ate dinner at a table and I spent every other weekend with a man I never really knew.
After the divorce of my parents, joint-custody was given to who I now know to be a stranger to me.
I forgive my mother for trusting the care of this man who is my father to take care of me,
But I cannot begin to think how I would ever intentionally introduce my child to a stranger.
I’ve listened to lectures that I should never open the door to someone I don’t know,
But as a little girl, I welcomed this man through the door of my life.
I’ve heard many times that a man who offers candy or needs help looking for his puppy is not a good man
But a man who gives fake love and wants me to call him ‘daddy’ isn’t a threat to my mental health.
And when my daughter is old enough to realize that she has one grandfather,
When all of her friends have two, I’ll tell her that he died before her time.

Pull me into your ocean arms
And let me ride your waves like
A boat without any sails.
If I fall overboard
Without a lifejacket,
Let me drown in the salty waters
Of your veins;
Let me learn to swim
In your deep depths
And search for your heart
Like a lighthouse on the pier.

I heard his footsteps coming up the staircase.
My heart was beating inside my chest, loud as thunder.
I had no idea what to do.
I laid still in my bed, not moving a muscle.
His feet walked soft and swift down the carpeted hallway.
The door to my brother’s room creaked open.
The sick feeling in my stomach told me there was nothing I could do.
My brother would be his first victim, and I, his second.
I continued laying completely still in my bed,
Under the blankets, that were getting extremely hot by this point.
I was tempted to remove them, except that it’d be easier for him to get to me.
I would suffer through the heat. Until it was over.
It was all I could do.
I was too small to run away, down the stairs and out into the backyard.
I could only lay flat on my back, making my breathing slow and soft.
I prayed he couldn’t see my chest moving up and down,
That he couldn’t hear my heart beating.
I counted to five, every second my heartbeat growing faster.
One, two, three, four, five.
I didn’t hear my brother’s shrieking. I didn’t hear him cry.
I did hear the man’s footsteps come back out into the hallway.
Instead of moving toward my room, like any other time,
His footsteps carried away from my doorway.
I found this interesting and somewhat bizarre.
This stirred all new emotions inside.
I was afraid, terrified even, but then there was also a sense of relief.
A relief that he wasn’t coming to my room after all.
The sick feeling in my stomach came again.
Only this time, I didn’t know what to feel.
It was a gut instinct. But what was it telling me?
That my time was finally coming?
I couldn’t take it anymore.
I slowly, ever so slowly, removed the blankets.
Taking a break in between, I lay still again, making my breathing slow and soft.
I counted to five while laying completely still and listening.
There was nothing.
I carefully sat up in my bed, keeping my eyes locked on the open doorway.
There was no light, black as a cat.
All that kept going through my mind was a scenario where he suddenly stood in the doorway.
Looking right at me.
But that didn’t happen.
I took a deep breath, maybe the last one I’d get, and slowly rose out of my bed.
I could only hope that I’d miss all the creaky spots in my floor, making a silent exit.
I had succeeded. Not a sound.
I skimmed my head out the door. Looking down the dark hallway.
The dark stairs only a few feet away. Could I make it?
I wanted to check on my brother.
But I didn’t have enough time.
I could hear the clock on the wall ticking. Tick tock. Tick tock.
Just the sound of it made me nervous.
I had no idea where the man was. Absolutely no idea.
For all I knew, he could come up behind me.
But that didn’t happen.
I prayed that he wasn’t in the kitchen.
Where the knives were.
My breathing quickened.
I almost wanted to just drop dead right then and there.
So I wouldn’t have to suffer anymore.
I moved out into the hallway,  carefully sidestepping the creaky hardwood floor.
Once at the stairs, I glanced down.
It looked awfully dark, but the faint glow of a night light lit up the bottom of the stairs.
I would have to be more careful. There was a chance he could see my shadow now.
There was some rummaging that sounded like it was coming from the kitchen.
Where the knives were.
I heard a drawer slam shut. I jumped in my spot on the stairs.
I couldn’t do it anymore. If this freak didn’t ****** me, I’d die just from my own fears.
Slowly, ever so slowly, I started stepping backwards.
Carefully sidestepping the creaks in the floor, making my way back to the doorway of my room.
I stood there, silent. Listening for him.
There was nothing for a long time. My imagination started roaming.
Had he left? Could I lay back in bed and sleep peacefully? Not a chance.
Backing up into my room, I kept my eyes locked on the doorway.
I felt the edge of my bed against the back of my legs.
Slowly sitting down, and applying weight to the mattress and bed frame, it creaked.
I closed my eyes, immediately expecting the man to come up the stairs and into my room.
But he didn’t. I continued sitting. Slowly easing the creaks out.
When all of my weight was on the bed, I carefully lay my head back on my pillow.
I pulled the covers up to my chin, covering my shoulders and hiding myself.
I took a deep breath and lay silently, listening for anything.
My eyelids grew heavy with sleep, while staring at the open doorway.
Suddenly, out of nowhere, there were loud, thundering footsteps coming up the stairs.
My heartbeat quickened and my throat grew constricted. I tried to relax my breathing.
My eyes were dead locked on the door. Several times, I thought I saw someone walk by.
The footsteps slowed and grew quiet while my heartbeat did the exact opposite.
Then, there he was. Standing in the doorway. Looking into my room. Looking at me.
Could he see me? Could he hear me?
He started coming inside. Toward the bed. My time was now. I wouldn’t be waking up.
I closed my eyes, hoping to make it hurt less.

We’re taking a journey through the times.
First back to Shakespeare and his clever rhymes.
He tells the story of Romeo and Juliet,
And if you were Montague, I’d change my name from Capulet.
The story of star crossed lovers,
Who in the end, died for each other.

Now we take a small trip through the rain forest,
Take a moment and play Tarzan.
Take another moment and let me be your Jane.
And when the storm threatens,
We won’t wait for the puddles,
We’ll go out dancing in the rain.

Here we go, under the sea.
Let’s take this trip, just you and me.
We zoom through the big ocean blue,
Like Ariel and Prince Eric, without a clue.
The green seaweed talks through our ears,
Living an underwater life where you can’t see tears.

As we sit alone together in the dark of light.
Only the candle between us, glowing in the night.
I hear the clock strike the new day,
Then out I go, wishing all the while that I could stay.
I’m Cinderella, running through the dark, climbing upon my ride,
Looking down and surprised to see, my glass slippers are still on my feet inside.

The endings may be different now,
No weddings, no ball gowns, no death.
They make you say “wow”
Then you can only hold your breath.

Throughout the night,
Walking silently.
Into the light,
So soundlessly.

Throughout the night,
There is no fun.
Just a tiny flying kite,
Into the sun.

Throughout the night,
Darkness fills the air.
Leaving one with no eyes, no sight.
Only one who’s willing to dare.

Throughout the night,
They fly through stars.
With all their might,
To the planet Mars.

Throughout the night,
Everything seems to fade away,
Bring forth the frosty morning light,
And begin the new day.

I want to be the blanket
That wraps about you,
In the dead of night;
The sheet you clench.
I want to fill the spot
Beside where you lay your head,
And I want to be the face you see,
When you first wake
From the night’s rest.

My brother told me that cats purr because
it means you’re close enough to hurt them.
Their motors running, vibrating throughout their bodies,
their guards lowered, lying on their backs,
allowing someone to come close enough to harm them,
all the while keeping a position to protect themselves.
And I don’t know if what my brother said is true,
but I think we as humans have a way of purring too;
And we call it falling in love.

Your soft fingertips
Hover over my skin,
Like butterfly kisses,
Upon flowers in the breeze.

Your kisses land,
Like raindrops in a suburban pond,
Creating ripples of chills,
Over my blanketed covered arms.

Pulling the blanket up farther,
Enclosing me,
In the further warmth of your body heat,
Trapped inside our make-shift fort.

A slight toss and turn,
And I can no longer feel,
Your warm sunlit rays of breath,
Landing on the back of my neck.

Looking to the ceiling,
And over to your close, limp body,
The muscles in your back,
Rise and fall, accepting my rejection.

Your love is treacherous.
It lights my heart in flames,
Gasoline shooting up my veins.
Adding fuel to my fire.
But your love doesn't burn,
Anymore.
My flesh is raw and tolerant,
To your high degree of heat.
The return to the constant burn is simple.
Each new inhale provides,
That same addictive rush
Of smoke.

You may ask why I don’t hang out with guys,
And the fact is, I do.
But nothing feels right.
None of them are you.

They don’t make me laugh,
And smile like you do.
They’re nothing at all.
None of them are you.

They don’t wear the same cologne,
Like you always do.
They’ll never smell the same.
None of them are you.

They’ll never hold me,
Like you used to.
They don’t come close.
None of them are you.

They won’t ever love me,
Like you used to.
They’ll love me deeper.
Because, none of them are you.

These nights are restless,
With you absent from my side.
A hole where my heart should be,
Is not easy to hide.
I stare at the ceiling,
Waiting for your return,
Knowing that you won’t come,
Leaving me with memories to burn.

Sometimes,

I get the urge to call you 'babe' again.

The other day, my grandma asked if I was still having trouble,
And I don’t think she realizes that depression isn’t just something I can turn off and on.
It can’t ever be cured completely.
So in response to her question, I knew my answer:
I’d never be completely untroubled. My war against depression would always rage on.
But instead of being on the losing side, I was finally ahead in the battle.
Some days are harder than others, but the fight will never end.

Tradition says that the role of walking your daughter down the aisle to her new husband is the act of giving her away to a man who will pick up where you left off in the mission of protecting her.
But the day you gave me away, I wasn’t wearing a long white dress and there wasn’t a man waiting for me at the altar.
You gave me away to the world the day you told me that you needed a break as if our relationship was one that you could just flip a light switch on and off,
But I’ve been in the dark for far too long.
You snapped my spine in half the day you said that I didn’t show love or respect towards you. But how do you model a behavior that you’ve never been shown?
Five years, I tried to make our strained relationship work, for five years, I forgave you for throwing me aside and
Time and time again I tried to love you only to have you show me all the reasons for why I couldn’t.
We would never have the type of father daughter relationship that was described in fairytales or in movies.
You gave me away that day like I was food leftover on a plate of an entrée you were no longer hungry for.
You threw me out, sink or swim into a world full of male potentials,
And I drowned.
I was too worried about finding someone to rescue me from the flowing current and I had forgotten how to tread water.
Years of swimming lessons and I was still reaching for a life preserver.
But I’ve been lost in the sea of men too long.
Being daddy’s little girl is more than just an expression, more than just a role to fill as a daughter.
Being daddy’s little girl means that he wants you too.
Being daddy’s little girl means that we’ll walk down an aisle in between the guests at the wedding and you’ll give me away to my new husband who’ll vow his love for me:
For better or for worse, for rich or for poorer, in sickness and in health
Unlike yourself, where you pushed me away long before we’d reached worse.
You let me go like a balloon on a string without an anchor to hold me down,
Watching me float away without a care in the world as to where I ended up at, whose arms I fell into because I thought he’d take care of me like you were supposed to be doing.
You gave me away as I was just a little girl and I was without the slightest clue of what to look for when trying to find someone to take care of me.
I wanted you to take care of me.
I’d learned from you that distance was far better than being close to someone,
But it didn’t soften the blow when you gave me away.
When I was a little girl, I dreamed of you meeting my new dates and threatening to break their neck if they broke my heart but I can’t help but wonder
Why isn’t your neck shattered?
You took my heart out of my chest and crumpled it like a piece of paper before stomping it into the ground the day you gave me away.
I knew what a broken heart felt like before my first boyfriend did the same.
You left me cut wide open from the wound and I’ve yet to heal.
A hole inside me aches for a love that only a father can give,
The abyss within pains my chest with a void too easy to remember its presence.
And I’ve tried filling it with romantic relationships that meant nothing and guys who only wanted to fill such a space for one night.
You gave me away to the world of males I thought I needed in my life when I only needed you.
But you’d never know that because you gave me away
Like giving away spare change on the floorboards of your truck to a homeless person and I’m not sure if I’m the coins or if I’m the person in need of a home.
You gave me away the day you married the woman who took my spot and she became the most important girl in your life.

I’m just broken.
These old wounds are open.
There’s nothing more for me to say.
Nothing I could’ve done, nothing I could’ve said.
Nothing would’ve made you stay.

I don’t know what went wrong,
After starting out so strong,
Guess we just went off the road, lost our way.
Nothing I could’ve done, nothing I could’ve said.
Nothing would’ve made you stay.

Thought everything was going fine.
Thought I would always call you mine.
Everything wasn’t right, everything wasn’t okay.
Nothing I could’ve done, nothing I could’ve said,
Nothing would’ve made you stay.

There’s no more you and me,
We won’t ever be what we used to be,
Now it’s just a barely a “hey”
Nothing I could’ve done, nothing I could’ve said.
Nothing would’ve made you stay.

I’m just finding the strength to move on.
Starting this new morning, this new dawn.
It’s finally a new day.
And I’ve realized nothing I could’ve done, nothing I could’ve said.
Nothing would’ve made you stay.

By the end of the tenth month,
I’d have cut myself at least ten times
On ten different nights.
Ten mornings I’d wake up and put
On a long sleeved shirt
And not because I was cold.
Ten bracelets would line my wrist
And I’d say that they matched my outfit.
Ten nights I’d cry myself to sleep
And wish that I was dead.
Ten mornings I’d wake up with my eyes
So red and swollen that ten people
Might’ve asked if I was okay
And ten times to those ten people
I’d say that I was just tired.
Ten Band-Aids would be laid to rest
Over my wounded skin.

And after the tenth month,
It would be November.

When was the last time you texted me first?
To ask me how I was or what was up.
Instead of always needing a favor.
You always tell me to text you,
Only to have them ignored half of the time.
**** it,
I’m not texting you first.

Can’t stand up on your feet?
Just sit down.
Take a seat.
I’ll show you who runs the show.
Relive it all.
Like some movie stuck on repeat.
Remember all those times?
You pulled me in close?
Wrapped me in your sheet?
I remember that,
Like it was just yesterday.
Although it’s almost been two months,
This movie is stuck on replay.
The only way I can make it end.
Put all the ******* aside.
And only be your friend.

The dark and dead of night,
Behind tall, black gates that shed no light.
A once in a full moon hanging in the sky,
Leading the way where underlie,
Bodies thought to be dead, but are more alive,
Living all around you, as strangers in disguise.

And walking through the cemetery, over crackling, fallen leaves,
Past peaceful, resting strangers, labeled as just another one that grieves.
Seeing headstones shimmer names of the dead,
While dew covered grass hide where tears have shed,
Over bodies that no longer lie underneath,
But haunt us in the comfort of home and in our sleep,
And they’re watching you stand at their gave; watching you weep.

My first paper cut happened so fast
I didn’t know something so thin
Could hurt so badly.
Thin was never an adjective
I’d associated with pain but
The sting of red blood that
Appeared on the surface of my skin
Would later become an addiction
I couldn’t get away from.
Thin silver razor blades
And thin white paper
Shouldn’t seem so similar.

My teacher asked me if I needed a
Band-Aid at my kindergarten conference
When a paper cut sliced my finger
While we were going through my materials
As if looking into my future.
I told her I didn’t need a Band-Aid
And in return, she told me that I was strong.

Kindergarten has come and gone
And after a very long time of thinking
Band-Aids made you weak,
I’ve realized that bandaging up your
Wounds actually makes you stronger
Than trying to bottle up the hurt.

Found that old notebook,
The one from junior year.
Hidden away in the back of the closet.
Trying on its own to disappear.

Took a deep breath,
Before I turned the cover.
Yeah, I saw some notes,
But your name is more what I discovered.

And the memories come flooding through.
And the tears begin to flow,
How I’d still **** to have you back.
Even knowing what I already know.

Because,

You knew just how to hold me,
Always would protect me,
You could always love me,
Could hold me down,
You were like my anchor.

Now you’re gone,
And  you’re not around,
You left me cold,
And I can’t erase you,
Like pen lines on paper.

In the top right corner,
Of almost every page,
The date moves on throughout the year,
And your name always manages to appear.

Almost always written in pen,
Unable to be erased,
Always somewhere on the page,
Always in a different place.

Because,

You knew just how to hold me,
Always would protect me,
You could always love me,
Could hold me down,
You were like my anchor.

Now you’re gone,
And  you’re not around,
You left me cold,
And I can’t erase you,
Like pen lines on paper.

I hear the ringing in my ear,
Hoping your voice answers at the other end,
The notebook sits in my lap,
Holding your name
And words I can no longer comprehend.

Silent sobs  land on the ink,
Making it blur and smear,
Flipping through the pages,
Pausing at each one,
To make sure each receives a tear.

Because,
I remember,

How you knew just how to hold me,
How you always would protect me,
How you could always love me,
How you could hold me down,
You were like my anchor.

But now you’re gone,
And  you’re not around,
You left me cold,
But I’m finally able to erase,
These pen lines on the paper.

These flower petals,
Flutter to the ground,
Each one with your name,
Slowly falling away from me.

The breeze sweeps them away,
Carrying them through the air.
Past towns and cities,
Where you’ll never be.

Traveling even further,
Being lost within nowhere.
Never being found,
No longer able to see.

The make their way to you,
Landing softly in your hands,
Giving you the courage and strength,
To make your way back to me.

This blade I use
As my paint brush,
My arm as my canvas;
Pale and innocent,
Save for scars from another time.

They will be joined,
Together,
In yet another
Beautiful, red painting.

My wrist, the white horizon
In the background.

Grab my fingers, and
Lace them in between the space
Between each of yours.

Ink spilled upon the page.

Lines filled with words unsaid.

We're two rain drops,
Racing up the glass
Of a car, moving through life.

Connected to me,
Like holding my hand,
Never losing me
Within the storm of life.

Looking out the window,
Rain drops start to pour,
The lightning strikes,
And the thunder roars.

A million thoughts,
Race through my mind,
What happens next,
Answers I cannot find.

Your face appears,
Looking real as ever,
Make me miss you more,
Showing how you are clever.

I plug in my music,
And think of everything wrong,
Distracting myself,
By listening to some rainy day song.

Pale, white canvases called your wrist.

Fine tipped blade brushes.

Always said you’d be around.
Said you’d always be here.
Looking up and down,
I see you nowhere near.

Disappeared from my fake reality,
Now living in your mortality.
Thought you loved me though…

Saying the words doesn’t make it so.

******* isn’t the same;
My collarbone doesn’t peek up through my skin how it used to when I removed my shirt.
I can’t see my ribcage protrude over my flesh under each breast like it used to.
My hourglass figure has too much sand; it’s spilling over.
The mirror seems to hide its eyes and turn away and the scale screams for me to scram.
The numbers glare up at me as I look down over the overfilling sand to where I wonder what it’d feel like if the ocean washed up over my toes in a skimpy bikini,
My hair blowing in the wind as I let the sun kiss my cheeks.
How it feels to be kissed by the glass watching me strip into the dim bathroom light,
Instead of slapped by the picture I see in the mirror.
When I bend over to finish removing the clothing,
I have to look away from the extra bulge of sand that sits directly above my waist
And haunts me by the rolls that hang on to my fattened skeleton.
I wonder how it feels to be loved by the reflection staring back at me.