We pose for a photo
Your hand
On the small of my back
Smile, click, flash,
And you forge a path down and away
And I am wide wide awake
We pose for a photo
Your hand
On my arm
Smile, click, flash,
And you trace your fingers down and away
And I am wide wide awake
These shocks you give me
Could power Tokyo
But they're all mine
And I can only stand and be electrocuted by your little touches
While you find energy elsewhere
I need you like an artificial heart needs a charge
You need me like a light switch in a thunderstorm

Skinny.
Moppy hair,
high, defined cheekbones
framing your pale face,
Those eyes, nearly black,
kind and soft with illness.

The disease lies strong within you,
bony metacarpels tracing my hip,
you feel it in me too.

At peace with our dragons,
frozen in war-
purple dye
tainting the test results,
prompting questions
of skinny love
run rampant.

Voice of an off-kilter Angel,
whispering sweet horrors
into mine that are nearly deaf.

Entrance me
in your dying symphony,
your frail sonnet
your crisp breath-
your last breath.

Set me on my way
into an unknown,
shrouded
in little miseries.

Don't wake up,

Don't wake me up,

Don't drag me from the only place I feel nothing.

Sounding alarms, a wretched voice,

telling me I can't go back.

Weak bones push a barely functioning body up and onto bruised feet,

cracked back- I go through the motions

I pretend to eat

I dress in the slop in front of me

I look to the mirror and pretend to like what I see.

I drag myself to a car nearly as broken as I

and off to banality.

I hardly breath

I hardly speak

My mind is elsewhere,

a where they'll never find me.

Fatigue overhwelmes me,

I taste the need.-

It's already sixth period-

what happened to the day?

I don't remember,

it's rare that I do.

Long hours curled in a ball

hoping their eyes pass right over me.

I sleep walk through the day,

a ghost to all who glance.

I'm home again,

where no one has the chance to see me,

I hide behind usernames

and craddle their comments.

With no voice and an empty belly.

I mindlessly tap away at an electric screen.

It's not really me.

I turn my thoughts to things so strange

and much much older than me.

Wasting away the hours,

maybe the more fantasy I watch

I'll forget about where I really am.

It's 2am-

I no longer bother to try and sleep

I can shut my eyes

and wait all I want

still nothing but darkness

and a quiet house-

why is no one ever home?

Not that I care, of course,

I'll go to the dark but comforting

corner of Tumblr,

and wait.

4:30am

like clockwork

I sleep,

dream of dark things

much older than me,

and quietly beg to never wake up.

Even though I've been writing for years
(not that it's any better than when I started)
the title still holds true.

Words don't spill out,
thoughts don't process
like they used to.

Pieces need second checks for meaning,
thirds for grammar,
and a fourth for meaning.

Maybe it's the absence of physical affection;
certain chemicals aren't being triggered to release in my brain
but I decided if I couldn't keep my unspoken promises,
if I can't touch with a deep understanding of love
I will not touch at all.

It was shocking,
the impact one night could have
and so I have not had a second try
(or a six or seventh if we're counting).

I let the words of Thom Yorke
and Ezra Koenig say all that I cannot.

"Slowly we unfurl as lotus flowers
'Cause all I want is the moon upon a stick
Just to see what if, just to see what is
I can't kick your habit
Just to feed your fast ballooning head
Listen to your heart"

If I weren't so afraid to speak,
we could maybe be friends,
you and I.

If I weren't so afraid to make eye contact,
we could maybe say "hello" every now and then.

If I weren't so afraid of the world,
things could maybe be different.

The fact of the matter
is that when you're alone,
things are so much easier.
No complications
fears
worries
regrets
mistakes
arguments
bruising
j­ealousy
wonder
fear
fear
gone-
it's all gone.
it's all simple
when you're alone it goes away
and it's so much easier
to trick yourself
into thinking you're happy.

Don't speak
shut up
cover those bruises
one word and it's over
if you make too much noise
you'll get hit.

Curl your hair
and hide your ugly face
no one wants to hear you
nobody cares
sit down
shut up
keep quiet or you'll get more bruises
you're nothing
you're worthless
you don't deserve to be alive
keep crying and I'll **** you
shut up
stop lying
you know he'd never hit you
you gave those bruiess to yourself
shut up
stop lying
nobody cares
you know its your fault
stop being dramatic
stop screaming
stop crying
you're not really in pain
shut up
shut up
shut up
shut up!



I've heard it since forever.
It's all they've ever said.
So that's exactly what I'll do,
I won't cry,
pretend not to feel
I'll sit down and shut up.
it's been true all along,
nobody really cares,
you're right
it's my fault
the bruises are gone
but I still feel them.
but it doesn't matter
because I know it's my fault.

So that's what I'll do/
I'll pretend not to feel.
I'll sit down
and not speak a word
because I've been told that
since forever,
that I am nothing,
and that is all I'll ever be.

So I'll sit down,
close my eyes,
and never speak a word.

I do not like this phase of a heart break.

When you purposely avoid love songs,
Or sometimes you play them just to make yourself feel like your hearts still pounding.

When the person you loved and hid from every waking soul is brought into a conversation.
Or when he isn't.

When you see other lovers who have made it years without the cruel hand of fate ripping their love from them.
Or when you see they haven't.

When you notice him writing you smaller, casual messages when they use to be breathtaking and beautiful.
Or when he doesn't write at all.

When I ask you if I am pushing you away and you say no.

"Alright, happy birthday! Text me later tonight?"

"Will do"

When every hidden goodbye ends with those two words. And my broken, belittled heart.

(i. r.)