What if?
What if
I told someone?
What if
they hate me for it?
What if
What if
I stop doing this to my body?
What if
you stop liking me?
What if
I stop and you leave me?
What if
What if
you hate me if you know?
What if
I didn’t tell anyone?
What if
then nothing changes?
What if
if I tell you?
What if
you worry?
What if
you think I’m a burden
What if
What if
What if
What if
What if
What if
What if  
I

stop


and



you




leave





me?

i lie in my bed at night, as the voices grow louder and louder and louder
consuming everything around me as i press my blanket to my ears, trying, desperately, to block out the noise
i need a distraction
something to take this pain away
the sharp sound of the scissors
blood clots
stabbing pain
scars on my wrists
                   you deserve it you deserve it you deserve it you deserve it  
                             you deserve the pain, the hurt, everything
                  you deserve it
the voices grow louder
                   you deserve it
and louder
                   you deserve it
and louder
there is no escape.
the dark creeps in, infiltrating everything, its teeth bared,
gleaming dark obsidian
and charcoal until it consumes everything
until all you can do is
cut

i remember the scratching sound of the record player
i remember the sharp blade of the scissors as the dim light reflected
i remember the noise of the cars 4 stories below
i remember the pills i thought of dying from so many times
i remember getting so acquainted with death that i tried to join him
i remember the red lines on my wrist
i remember feeling the sharp sting
i remember the music giving me life
i remember the music making me feel things that i don't feel
i remember the lights
i remember fading away
i remember my phone wallpaper
i remember the music taking me away
i remember blades of grass, so sharp in the morning sun
i remember sitting in my window nook as it rains
i remember the noise
i remember shutting down
i remember foggy mornings
i remember not talking
i remember not moving
i remember not being able to breathe
i remember the streetlights
i remember not feeling like myself
i remember looking in the mirror and seeing a stranger
i remember the sound of a fountain pen on parchment paper
i remember the taste of lemonade in the summer
i remember cloth scraping against flesh
i remember ribs poking through translucent skin
i remember dizziness
i remember the hunger
i remember the sun
i remember the rain
i remember drawing with posca markers on my arm
i remember dancing in puddles

a rose garden
filled with beautiful flowers
on the surface
but inside is a tangled web of thorns
every petal another lie, another
"i'm fine, i'm ok"

topiaries in twisting, beautiful shapes
all of roses
lovely on the surface
a fairy tale come true
but that's just what it is

a story

but when the flowers wilt,
when the topiaries grow wild,
the thorns grow larger until they start to stab themselves
millions of tiny punctures
as the music plays
and the petals fall
and the thorns strike the heart
and the vines grow over the corpse

7:08 halloween night
"its time to go"
"ok"
the car
the moon
then,
nothing
(that i can remember)
3rd floor bedroom
the moon
through the window
suddenly
its too loud
curtains close
the sharpener
cuts
then

i don't remember

im ok
im ok
im ok
im ok
im fine
but the scissors cut deeper and deeper every time
im ok
im ok
im ok
im fine
but lying in by bed, i start to think its my time
im ok
i say
im ok
im ok
im ok
im ok
im ok
im ok
im ok
im ok
im ok
im ok
im ok
im ok
im ok
im ok
































im not

scissors
****** wrists
the dark creeps in
worthless
it whispers
hiding under beds and in closets
inky tendrils wrapping around heads
pitch black room
midnight
red lines under ribs
appear black in the dark
hugging knees
scarred
not enough
never enough
broken
irreparable
thinking of the roof
a rope
pills
just to make this pain end
just to end it all

i never seem
to be able to

to be able to
be
accepted

to be able to
belong

but
fitting in
is

different than
belonging


molding yourself
Into the
neatly
labelled
boxes
life sets out for us

to fit in


becoming what people want from you

hiding your
true self.
hiding behind a mask

hiding yourself

fitting in.

my life,

a burning building

trapped

on the highest floor,
too far to jump

and survive

but the flames

inch

CLOSER
CLOSER
CLOSER

no choice

as i take

one

step

off




i fall

noise
the piercing screams of little children
"no no no!"
i dont want a shot
screaming crying help
but nothing shows
trying to stop the noise from
consuming you as it creeps in
with tendrils made of
every
          little
                  noise
that you have ever or will ever make
but now
you're silent
as you war in your head
clutching your knees wishing you
couldn't hear plugging your ears its too much
its too much its too much its too much
its so hard to breath or move or do anything at all
because everything makes a sound and theres already
                                             plenty
                                              much
                                                of
                                               that

why must we be
limited
by this creature
we call home?

why do we have to
settle for what
this can do?

why must we go through
so
much
to feel happy?

why do we have to
exist
at all?

why can't we just
go and live
in our dreams?

why do we have to
wake up?

why can't we keep
dreaming?

i don't know
               what to do
     the surface
                            of the
                                   w
                                   a
                                   t
        is                        e
             gone              r
          and
i'm  
                         ­       d
                                r
                      ­          o
                                w
                   ­             n
                                i
                ­                n
                                g
in
   the
                                  weight

                      ­                            of
                                  ­                       the
                                                             ­   world
i don't know
              when
                       i'll
                           go


                  can i become a kid again?
and live?

dreams
crows
and corvids
perched on
gravestones
running
faster
until takeoff
sprouting
seeds
trees growing

i would fly
soar
above the world
if i could
just keep from waking up

broken
shards of glass
and the echoes of
who she once was
all she has
to make it through
but its not enough
the endless battle in her mind
rages on
as she pretends
its all fine on the outside but
beneath her raven hair
an eternal war
behind her ice blue eyes
a fight
every day
to keep going
but eventually
she gets tired of the fight
and her ice blue eyes
break
an endless symphony of
scarred hearts
and tightening chains
marks against skin
until


s
h

a


t



t




e





r

why?
if i fall
then Rowan falls
then Ahalya falls
then Hunter falls
then Alice falls
then Grey falls
then Lex falls
then Kat falls
then Sam falls
then Ebby falls
but what if they fall first?

we're all just hanging on
Ahalya could go any day
Rowan's already tried
so have i
but every thread
is different
and sometimes our threads get
tangled
if Alice goes,
what happens to Kayleena?
if Lex goes,
what happens to Grey?
if they go
can my thread break too?

playing with matches lit
listening to the fight
sitting on the stairs
knowing it all
but not helping
you always said
a child not embraced by the village
will burn it down to feel its warmth
but now your house is flaming
the blaze flickers between your teeth
the child plays in the shadows of the fire
what will you do now?

music
fills my world with light,
dancing to Cavetown in my room,
letting the happiness fill me up
like nectar
falling asleep to Madilyn Mei,
listening
until the world goes quiet,
a rare moment of pure joy
despite the cloudy uncertainty of the world,
i exist only for myself in that moment

She stares at the ceiling
cracks whispering her name,
over and over.
hundreds of tiny breaks hid by glass skin

Wrists a scarred mess
carrying every
“I’m ok”
like a rock in her chest
a temple of happy lies
but when one brick falls,
the walls crack open

Dancing in the shards of glass and debris
sharp edges,
bleeding heels,
every cut,
a reminder she will never be herself again
each shard embedded,
an endless silent scream

but when she shatters,
it's not like the movies,
no slow-motion
or music
only the raw snap of a soul
pushed too far
bending
until it breaks,
shattered into a thousand pieces

glassgirl no more

scissors
dark
red
marks
help
get me out
i need to leave
this house
the sharpener
calls
as the walls
fall

flying
higher
and
higher
floating
fluttering
above the world
then
torn down
by reality
but this time
i'll never
wake
up

help me
please
                          i'm
              s p i r a l i n g
        
         down the rabbit hole
                                           but now
                              alice is gone
         all that's left
                   is the

                            mad hatter

writhing in
her mind
another hellscape
trapping anyone
who looks in her eyes
because the eyes are the windows
to the soul

she runs wild through
a forest of
whispering trees
calling out
but never to her

calling for the others
the betters
because she would never
be as good as them

how could they want her?

the trees whisper her name
as a crow flies above
a single feather falls

the train of shadows
moves on
stopping only
for her

she boards it
a single crow feather
as a pass
a boarding ticket
to the end of the world

the ghostly passengers stare
and turn away,
looking out the windows
to the white abyss
of snow

the endless rattling of the train
soothing
but unsettling

a bustling marketplace
when it stops
and she takes a step out the door

here they whisper too
she sees a knife glint
a golden coin falls

the train comes again

this time the pass
a gleaming gold

but now there is no train
only an umbrella
two boots
a raincoat
pouring rain
and a girl
in the middle of it all
the puddles reflecting
who she could've been
and who she was

but never her

yelling
screaming
numb
numb
numb
the thread broke
now its not the voices telling me to
**** myself
its

me

skinny
perfect
quiet
day after day
smiling in the mirror
hiding the pain
because crying isn't perfect
because yelling isn't perfect
never step on the cracks in the sidewalk
never show suffering
never hurt one arm without hurting the other
never eat more than a bite
always happy
but not too happy
always quiet
but not too quiet
or else people notice

i slip
          under the ice

i bang on the surface
                              and yell

no one hears
                   my cries
                                  for help

the air leaves my lungs

                  “why should i try?

                                                  if no one cares”

i slip
                              under the surface

        the breath

                   choked out

                                                of my lungs

falling

          freezing

                      flooding

                                   engulfing

overwhelming

farewell,

o

cruel


world

silent wounds
and invisible screams
running
from the existence of
nothing
but then
turning around
because the
invisible wounds
and silent screams
from the absence
of everything
capture attention

why must i
live
why must i
keep going
when every time i whisper
the wind steals it?
when every time i speak
teeth scatter?
just let me know
when the world is better
when the fires stop
and the forests grow back
and then maybe
i can too?

why can't i just
                        cease to exist
     i don't want to die
                                 i just don't want to live anymore
because it's just so hard
                                  there are
                thousands of people who want me dead
    but i don't
             i just don't feel like living anymore
because it hurts
SO MUCH
           maybe
                                            i shouldn't
    keep
                        going
                                         just lie down
                                         and give up

the voices are never quiet
the sound creeps under doorways
and through keyholes
until it's everywhere
and there is no escape
from the endless noise
****** yelling
silent whispers
bombs and
knives sharpening
infiltrating
penetrating
perforating
until it's all you hear
until it becomes all i am
until it becomes all i know
until the voices and i
are alone together
always

loud
the world invades
until
i die
but no
"false alarm"
my mind says
like i didn't just lie on the floor
clutching my ears
in pain
hurting so much
   d
y
      i
  n
        g
until i feel like a ghost
in the shell of a person
lost
caves
tunnels
offices
hallways
lockers
and i can't return
to the shell of me
just watching from above.

please mom
it's getting worse

for me

when the story starts and ends with
we'll be okay
how do we know when it truly ends?

while we watch under the slide,
waiting for the world to pass us by,
as the monsters under our beds yell
and hit

when we need our friends more than ever,
but we pull away
because we can't be a burden
why must the story keep going?

when we are the seeds in the ground,
the trampled underfoot,
when we shatter and are glued back
over and over and over
why do we always have to be fixed
when we were never broken?

when we dangle by a threadbare knot over a bottomless pit,
how do we keep from falling?

how do we know they'll catch us?

how do we know that when we feed the dirt,
our story ends?
how do we know where our story takes us,
when neither of us are even protagonists
in our own stories?
how do we know we won't fade into the endless crowd
of blurred faces and silent whispers
waiting on the banks of the river styx?

why do stories have endings?


why can't we live a life worth living?