You’re the singer standing in front
Of a standing ovation
Trying to hide behind a microphone
Because you cannot comprehend
How bright you are
Actually shining

"you are my princess,
but i’ll ******* like a *****”
you never did either. i was granted no jewels,
no sapphires, no rubies, not even zirconia
to match this forgery of skin.
my neck felt too small in your tired fingers,
and too many times i waited.
(snap, break, snap)
too tired to throw me down,
awake enough to bruise my blood
vessels.

"you are my princess"
i felt more like the penniless ******,
breathing in vapors while my smudged eyes
twitched and itched.
i would arrive at your doorstep, salivating,
and you never even had a bone to
throw.

"i’ll ******* like a *****"
i wanted your chunks like maggots crave
the panting dead,
i wanted your intestines wrapped with my
intestines, your lungs breathing in my
lungs, every centimeter of your veins
grinding and sweating against my veins.

"you suffocated me"

you had the world at your feet,
and you couldn’t even take one
step.

The first time I tried ****** I was looking for an act of defiance
I was hanging a glowing neon sign on my chest that screamed *******
Man, I swear James Dean shot it up my arm
He had a tattoo on his wrist and it said, it said
Rebel without a cause
And those four words pretty much summed me up
I was 17
I still do not know who I was raising my middle fingers at

Waiting for the train
Toes of my boots on the edge of the yellow line
Stand back from yelllow line
Reads a sign straight infront of me
I think about how quickly I could end everything
Steps a bit further
I take a deep breath
Tears welling up within my tired eyes
My breath comes out shaky
Shaking my head as I step away
Wiping away the tears that overflowed my scarlett eyelids

Glancing around, I wonder
Who would have saved me?

             I'm not to sure I would save me

911 used to be scabbed on the back of my
knees, and soaked carpets
were like coming
home. her eyes were nothing like
mine, and the police always
wanted to know. but i hated the way their
lips smacked against their teeth.


911 used to be tied to my fingers with
****** ribbons, and if you ask me who my kindergarten
teacher was, i couldn’t tell you.
chocolate milk nights were thick with
bruises. i made friends with the images in between the tiles
in the bathroom.

911 used to be etched on my stomach,
and even now i cannot see red blue and white flashing lights
without wanting to puke.
six months is forever when you’re seven years old,
but daddy
always said life is too short
anyway.

i'm too human
for anyone to love.