I think I've stopped being human long ago. I am a ghost of who I used to be. The ghost of a person who laughed at the sky and danced with the sea and believed that things always get better. But it's been two years and it hasn't gotten better. And I'm starting to think it never will. I can't bring you back. I can't turn back time. I can't stop that yellow cab from slamming into your chest. I swear I would have moved heaven and hell if you wanted me to. I still put out 2 sets of plates and forks and spoons everyday, did you know? I threw out our bed because it just kept reminding me that you aren't here and you will never be here again. There is a continuous ache in my chest and a hole in my heart in the shape of you that no amount of alcohol can ever fill. People say that if you drink enough ***** it tastes like love. That is complete and utter *******. ***** tastes like crying on the floor at 3 am and smashing every glass at home and pain pain pain. You were my home and you left me. I ******* love you and you left me. I know it isn't your fault but **** sometimes it sure does feel that way.

Laying next to you
On the pavement
Watching you count the cars
Rushing mere
Millimeters away from us
I realized there is a god
Just not the god
Everyone keeps on talking about

I don't think god has
White flowing robes
And clouds at his feet

I can see god
Drinking hot cocoa
When his apartment
Feels a little too big
Because it reminds him
Of home

I can see god
Buying pink peonies
To put on his father's grave
Every first Thursday
Of the month
Because Thursday
Was his favorite day

I closed my eyes
For a split second
I saw the face of god
And darling,
it looked a lot like yours

You said you wanted to
Know me better
So here I go:

I've got exactly 28 pens
I know because I counted

I've got too many notebooks
Yet I can't stop
Buying more and more

Sometimes when it's 4 am
And my mind is
Driving me to the brink
Of total insanity
I take 3 showers
to try and calm myself down
(It never works)

I like apple juice but I hate apples

I've never been good in math

There are too many
Cigarette burns
On the crook of my elbow
And scars on my thighs
and demons in my head

I love the smell of cinnamon

Once when I was 15
I drank blue paint
Because I think blue is beautiful
And I wanted to be beautiful too

That didn't work

So I drank a bottle of bleach
To clean my very core

It didn't work either

Now you know me better
I understand if you'd want
To run away now
It's okay
Save yourself
Run