225 days under grass
and you know more than i.
they have long taken your blood,
you are a dry stick in a basket.
is this how it works?
in this room
the hours of love
still make shadows,

when you left
you took almost
everything.
I kneel in the nights
before tigers
that will not let me be.

what you were
will not happen again.
the tigers have found me
and I do not care.

Each breath I take
in seething sorrow,
leaves me loathing
the thought of tomorrow.

Is it real?
falling for the words on my screen,
begging to reach through to meet
the entity on the other side.

Ive fallen for you,
stranger in the night.

With no hope that youll
find my words, and know they are for you.

Or that You could fall for them,
if you ever do.

I'm terrified to let go
because your words
have returned to me what I thought was forever lost: My smile.

and I wish I could thank you, and tell you how Ive fallen. But anyways Im not using my heart.
you may as well keep it for a while..

My mom read my poem.
All she had to say
"Well that's just depressing"

My mother, the woman
Ive found cowering
in the corner of her closet
holding the gun to her tears
and begging for escape.

Depressing.

My mother, the woman
who tells me that after
30 years of marriage
she wishes she had never said yes.

Depressing.

THAT woman.
Who has the audacity to tell me
that she wishes
I had never been born.

Depressing.  

How can you expect me
to love myself,
when you can't
even love me...

Depressing.

look at the example you've set.

You've given a new meaning
to every moment of my life.

The ones that once made me happy are now the piercing blades through my being.

for all that you are, you are nothing but pain.
shards of broken heart, leaving me stranded in the corner,
afraid to step on the broken pieces scattered across the floor.
a room filled
with exquisite dreams, sunken with the treasure of your love.
love. it never was.
it was an elaborate set up,
for your greatest feat.
breaking the unbreakable heart.

I am a languid idea,
carved into the sand
where the rock was too resilient.

Perhaps next time
I shall be the stubborn rock
refusing to be tainted.

Or maybe I'll be
the easily manipulated sand.

I'm more than depressed and time is slipping through my fingers like sand