i am filled with anguish and resentment
i keep loving
and i keep losing
i wish i would win
i wish i didn't feel the need to sin
against my maker
and burn the temple he gave me to the ground
but all i feel is the desire to die
my brain hates me
it makes me think everyone is against me
i don't have anyone anymore
so please don't leave me
i don't get to run my fingers through the little boy's hair anymore
or call my daddy when i'm hurt
and boy, am i hurt
my heart is breaking
my hands are shaking
all i can think about is the wreckage that is my life
i try to distract myself
but all i come back to is
please don't leave me
don't run away like everyone else
i know that it's hard
but i can't make it alone
and all i feel is isolation
so please
take my hand
love me
kiss me
hold me
and for god's sake
please don't leave me

I wish I had some privacy just for a moment.
But maybe the privacy would make me do the unthinkable.

When we made love with the record playing.
Our heart beats were in sync.
And the rhythm was sweet.
As we moved to the static of the needle hitting the record.
And we grooved to every chord.
I loved that night and I love that song.
Because you were the right one all along.
The feeling of your body up against mine.
As I traced my fingers up and down your spine.
The record had stopped and the song was over.
But we were so infatuated with each other.
We looked into each others eyes until we drifted off to sleep.
And the next morning you woke up and hopped into your jeep.
I never saw you again, and I wonder why.
For that song was so perfect and that night was so divine.
So I put that record on and listen to it again and again.
And remember the feeling of your hand rubbing my head.
I want you to come back and listen with me.
Oh to that record so soft and so sweet.

I love listening to sad music.
Because it makes me feel sad.
And I suppose I'm crazy for liking that feeling.
But that feeling is so nice and refreshing.
To have my stomach churn, and my hands to get clammy.
Sad music speaks to my soul.
Because I am a sad person at heart.
It was my plan, and his intentions for me.
To be sad and depressed.
But who dare to say that's a bad thing.
It's only a perception that it is.
Maybe being sad is good.
Maybe being sad helps.
Maybe being sad is the best feeling you can feel.
The angst inside is splendid.
So I'll continue to listen to my sad songs.
And I'll continue to be sad.
But do not have pity for me.
I am happy with the way I am.

You know me, Mrs. Heart on her sleeve.

What is skin?
They say it helps protect us.. but from what?
When it is pierced it bleeds endlessly until it's stopped.
Layers of skin and muscle and tissue that is supposed to help us.
But it doesn't... the words get under our skin.. like knives making us bleed.
The words, the actions and the expressions.
Our skin doesn't protect us from anything.

all we do is wait.
wait for the world to change.
wait for the world to end.
well i never was very patient.

i kept knocking on wood, too bad it was laminate.

our exchanged glances used to be filled with passion
and now they're empty.
where there used to be laughter there is frown lines.
where there used to be skin, there is blood.
where there used to be life, there is death.
you were my favorite melody.
where have you gone?

Where will you be when all goes dark?
Where will you be when the world ends?
Where will you be in your lonely hour?
Who will be with you?
Who will be your friend?
Who will love you until the end?
How will you know if it's going to be alright?
How will you know if your just going to sit in the dark after your life?
Why will it happen?
What or who will trigger it?
Do you know?

i feel like the moon and the sun.
dark and mysterious.
one minute up in the sky.
and one minute cowering in the corner not being seen.
the sun takes my place.
being shiny and bright.
then all is happy.
and i am full of life.
but then the day is over and the moon comes back out to play.
everyone stares at me and says i'm beautiful.
but little do they know i'm the most dark and scary creature ever seen.
some people like me.
some people don't.
some people need a light because they're afraid of my darkness called night.
then night is over and i am sunny again.
bipolar they call this.
labeling me with a disease.
'no' i say.
'i'm just fine!'
then i go home and sit and cry.
engulfed in my darkness and in the light the next.
no one is ever there to help me be my best.
'you need help!' they all say.
then help me ******.
can't you see that i'm grey and damaged?

Uncomfortable;
Doors shutting
Pens writing
People telling their symptoms
Purses zipping
People talking trying to comfort each other and make them feel like everything will be okay
Everything will be okay... won't it?
The doctor will fix it surely..
Won't she?
No way of knowing for sure
Just have to wait and see
Guess that's why they call it the waiting room

hospital gowns
wedding gurneys
ashes to ashes
you are my end-all

i hear a lyric of you in every song
i see you in every restaurant at every table
in every passing car
in every movie theater and grocery store
but you're not really there
not anymore
i've always had a hard time letting go
but i've never experienced something like this
i talk about you like a lost love
i feel you like a gunshot
you weren't a muse
but you were the pain behind every word
you occupy my mind more than i'd like to admit
i miss you when i shouldn't
your smell haunts me along with sad violins
the things we never got to do together
the movie list we never finished
all of the empty promises
broken mugs
ripped pictures
i never got to congratulate you on graduating
or take you to disneyland
you don't know what my new dog looks like
or that i got my first tattoo
i don't really know you anymore
and you don't know me
and i think that makes me more sad than anything
that the person i spent every minute with is someone completely new
i also never got to say thank you
for all of your hugs
the music you showed me
the jokes we had
the times you really did save my life
the times you gave me the reality check i needed
and the times you cleaned my self-inflicted wounds and told me you loved me, you'll never know how much that meant to me
you'd be happy to know i'm two months strong
or would you?
do you even think of me?
i never got to apologize
for the unintentional mean things i said
and the intentional mean things i said
the times i ripped your curtains down
or screamed because i was afraid of losing you
the times i went overboard
all of my unwarranted apologies for feeling inadequate
my jealousy
which have all resulted in losing you
which isn't all my fault
but i'm no innocent bystander
so like i said
i miss you
everything about you
and us
but it all happened for a reason
maybe we were a flame waiting to be blown out
but my love is still there
and even though i won't reach out
and i know you never will either
and the realization that this is the end has set in
i still love you
and miss you
and you'll never fully understand your impact
whether it was good or bad
you were someone that molded me
that changed my course of life
and who knows where i'd be if you hadn't broke my heart
so here's to us
and 2 years of friendship that we never got to celebrate
but God knows i thought about you all day
because i'm sad
and lost
and don't know where to go from here
but i guess this is a start
with my hands typing away
as my heart sinks
and i listen to a playlist that reminds me of nothing but you and our car rides
it's a start
so this isn't goodbye
but a mere remembrance of you
and all of the great things
along with the bad
because maybe if i continue to write to and about the ghost of you
the tears on my pillow will dry faster.

Her smile shines as bright as the sun
Her teeth crooked but still a beautiful smile
Her heart cracked, yet still beating
She's done bad things but she's not a bad person
She wants to explore
Her writings shaky yet smart and simplistic
She's only ever wanted the best for her and others
Her hair cascading down her spine
Long and filled with her secrets and journeys
Her face has no wrinkles because all she ever does is smile
Through the pain and the guilt
The gray hairs have come in because she's been old ever since a young age
Fixing the broken to the best of her ability yet she's still cracked in so many ways
Her fingernails and skin ripped and picked at
She has such good intentions
Her dreams are yet to come true but she has ambition
No money for a long time
But shes been suffice
She wants to live in a nice house, nothing spectacular, but something
She wants to have good memories not bad
She wants to forget the past
She wants to forgive the mean and cruel people
She wants to move on
She wants to be a better person
She wants her writings to not be so dark
She wants so much, but you can want forever and not achieve
She wants to sing for everyone
She wants to be known
Not for who she has been but for who she wants to be
She wants to be her
But who is she?

And sometimes the people in your life you thought you needed to survive, aren't all that significant after all.

We weren't each other's firsts but if we let that get to us we won't be each other's last.

Love is love so once you give it you can't get it back.
Love may be a game, but it doesn't work quite like that.
When you love someone that love never goes away.
Even if you feel like you hate them because of the pain.

And sometimes you have to lose yourself to find the better version of you.
Like Hide and Seek, it'll take time but the game has to end some time.

and what will i do after i'm all used up and you've had me at your disposal?

I long for touch but yet I flinch when someone gets too close.
I suppose it's the feeling of fear that overcomes me.
Or the voices that flood my memory of the people saying 'You'll never be pretty enough and your soul is too dark.'
I guess I'll just spend my days basking in the wretched comments and the feeling of never being good enough.
I'm displeased when I look in the mirror, and I start to understand what the people say.
Maybe get some surgery and all of the pain will go away.
But even if I did that the rude remarks would still be there.
And I'd still be heavy with all of the weight on my shoulders.

Don’t compare yourself to others. Compare yourself to the person you were yesterday.

I find it sad how one minute you can hold someones hand and tell them you love them and the next they can be gone for eternity.
I haven't lost someone in a bit but whenever I do another piece of me gets chipped away.
Losing a family member or a friend, maybe even just an acquaintance it gets under your skin.
Knowing you can never hold another conversation, or shoot them a quick text.
Never hearing their voice again, they're gone forever.
Buried in the ground away from society.
And we wonder, has their soul survived and carried on to the Heaven we hear of and debate over?
Or are they in solitude?
We'll never know.
Until of course we slip into the light.. or darkness.
And the people cry over us.
Knowing that we're gone.
Never being able to return to the day to day routine of life.
Dead.. I suppose that's what they'd call it.

It’s odd how the ugly in some can bring out the beauty in others.

As when someone makes you upset and you try to find the good in people or the world, and you turn around and there is a sunset, or a flower.

Just beauty in it’s simplest form, jumping out at you in the most insignificant way.

Making your skies not so grey.

You can complain because roses have thorns, or you can rejoice because thorns have roses.

You can crave to have someone elses qualities while in the meantime someone else is longing to be as gifted as you in some way.

Never fully satisfied with yourself, you want to be bigger and better.

Because you choose to hear out the people that think you aren't good enough and need better characteristics, and not the ones that think you are beautiful just the way you are.

The architecture that goes into building a human I will never understand.
For it is too astonishing for anyone to wrap their head around.
The time, effort and beauty that goes into making even the most evil people.
Everyone has their own beauty.
And their own attraction to others that were built the same or complete opposite way.
In a long and complicated process making them who they are on the inside and what they portray to be on the outside.
Because the exterior can only cover so much before what is on the inside shimmers through the smallest crack.

She once played beautiful music but now she's just a broken record.

People get tired of you being sad, and then they leave, even when they promised they wouldn't.

When will my last set of tears roll down my cheeks?
When will the sadness come out with the sobs?
When will all be calm and happy and good?
It all comes back to time.
It took time to get to the sadness.
And now it will take an eternity for it to dry out.

Mama said ''Don't trust boys they'll leave you with a broken heart.''
I said ''Yeah well that's alright I've been broken from the start.''

I hate the saying ’You have to love yourself before you can love others.’ Because you never even truly know who YOU are entirely. So how can you love somebody you don’t know? Lots of people do it very easily. But it’s just hiding from the reality of it all, of not knowing who you ‘love’ or yourself. Guess love is just an easily tossed around word at this point. Which is sad because it once had a definition and meaning to it all and now people just love everything without even knowing what love is itself.

You do your best for others, to make them happy.
And most of the time they could care less, and continue to gloat about themselves.
So don't do things for others.
Do it for you.
You deserve to feel accomplished and be happy with yourself.
You are making progress and if others don't appreciate your journey, they shouldn't be apart of it.

my mother taught me how to share
i never had an "i don't wanna" moment
i was respectful and kind and never claimed anything was fully "mine"
however now i don't want to share
i don't want to see her with someone that's not me
i don't want to see instagrams of her calling someone else babe
or snapchats of her new "princess"
call it being greedy or jealous
but i don't want her to be someone else's
just as i don't want to be with anyone other than her
i want her mouth only on mine
call it possessiveness or whatever you want
i want her to be happy i just want it to be with me, i don't want her "i love you's" to fade to "i care", or "i'm still here"
i long for her touch and her presence
i feel as if i didn't appreciate what i had when i had it
and now somebody else might steal my baby
and i don't want to share...

music was my serenity, but now all i hear is lyrics of you.

To most she was broken.
To herself she was just fragments lying carelessly among the floor.
But to him she was life.
In his mind he took all of her pieces and put them together.
He never saw her as anything more than her and that was enough.
He only ever saw the good about her.
He was blinded by her beauty and wit.
And she was blinded with who she really was, behind closed doors the person only she saw, disgusted with herself.
But he'd never be.
He'd only ever love her and see her as life.
The only life he'd ever want to lead.

you said, "cry me a river".
and so i did.
but then you complained because you didn't have a boat.

Your net worth doesn't bring happiness, your self worth does.

I now know why they call it heartbreak.
Not because your heart literally breaks but because your chest becomes so heavy you feel as if your heart has sank into oblivion and shattered.
Every moment from now on when you feel love you'll be so uneasy and your heart will be so hollow you can't feel anything for anyone.
The thought of being hurt again will rise as will your barrier blocking everyone out.
I now- I now know why they say that you need time.
I now know why most people aren't in contact with their ex's.
I now know why people jump off of buildings and invade their blood stream with poison of all kind.
I now know why people throw the word love around, or why they don't say it at all.
I now know that no matter how many "I'm sorry"'s there are they fix nothing.
I now know that this is not a phase.
I now know that my heart is too big for my sleeve and I'm filing an eviction notice.
I know now what I did not know before.. and boy were they right when they said curiosity killed the cat.

Life experiences make good stories.
So I suppose I'm a great story teller.

Life is a beautiful lie and Death is the ugly truth.

She conjured up the most beautiful blade.
And cut into the most beautiful thing.
Herself.

the lady in red
who lived in my head
used to come to me
and it all started at around age 3
she was sweet and nice and very pleasant
but behind that all she was just a peasant
she was there in all of my times of need
she was strong and blunt and always wanted to protect me
but only I could see her and it was just our little secret you see
she told me 'If you tell anyone that you can see me they'll think you're crazy and take you off to a bad place.'
so I never told anyone so I could continue to see her face
around the time I was 8 she left me alone
'You don't need me anymore you're all grown.'
'You're smart and old in the brain, you can take care of yourself now so I can't stay.'
she was on her way and nothing could stop her
I begged and begged but she was an admonisher
so I let her leave and I never saw her again
the lady in red
she was my best friend

I have no one,
so I run back to the ones who don't care the most.

A poem is a wound, turned to words.

all of them just come and go.
and they never love,
and they never care.
they just come...

and they just go.

we don't get to choose who we love,
and as i chose to love you
i watched you turn into a friend
into a lover,
and into a stranger.
i just wish the process would've gone slower.
maybe then i could've enjoyed it all.
sat back and watched as our story unfolded.
and ended.