mary jane has taken you away from me
you're so obsessed with the sensation
of breathing her in
it seems you have forgotten the feeling
of my lips, my hair, my embrace
in place of what you perceive as a better
lover.

mary jane has taken you away from me.
the people who love could never
love as intensely as she
caresses your senses, changes the tense
in which you think
do you think about me at all anymore?

she is lovely, she is kind

and i crave to paint the creases of her smile

in lilacs, and roses and wind

daisies through her halo hair

rays of sun do not compare to the presence

of Elora.

and so
after five hours you reply
in real life time does not exist
and I remember alice said
It would be nice if something would
make sense for a change
but maybe I held you too tightly
because things were happening so fast
maybe I let you ruin me
take everything I was
and leave me hugging my pillow
in place of you
this love is not a victory, its a battleground
of fighting for each other.

to have loneliness resonate through me at such a young age
to feel the dull ache of constant emptiness
feels selfish, when there is so much beauty that surrounds me.
I want to be rooted to the ground.
for I am deeply a child of the universe and I should know my place.

sweet darling,
i care not for your love,
if your love cares not for me.
sweet angel,
one never was so compliant
your eyes used to speak,
but they've always been silent
sweet darling
who suffered so deeply in guiding
sweet angel
I loved you,
though  your love was in hiding.

from a mile away
i could love you
in the distance
a soft focus version
of your harsh being.

from across the road
or down the stream
i could love you
cry you a river of
romance, to match
the momentum of
your fist.

from down the stream
i could love you
run away from you
as fast as the current
flows, fast enough to dry
the blood sweat and tears
you have caused me.

from the fire escape of a
city i could love you
but you're the fire that I
am always within an inch
of, the cigarette burns on my stomach
prove it.

they told me,
it will only get easier.
i have never heard someone utter such a ******* lie.
i am thrown upwards and downwards
backwards and forwards by
my brain
a rollercoaster of overused metaphors
for the grief i feel daily
monthly, hourly.
every minute and every breath holds a different
emotion.

loving you is a ******* lot.

i stare at the person in front of me in the morning.
tell them i hate them.
tell them they're ugly.
too fat.
too thin.
they're disgusting.
a disgrace to the human race.
worthless.
asking for it.
i stare at the person in front of me in the evening.
stare at the cool glass,
and she cries out
please,
you've got to be kinder to me.

i tattooed a heart
on my wrist
to remind me of you
and how you stole
my love from off my sleeve
so i never let it happen again.

all i ever wanted

was for your face

to light up when you saw me.

like my heart when i hear your name.

instead, i sit at home and

cry about how you do not love me

i say its a shame

but the real shame is

that i am not surprised

for if even i cannot love myself,

why would you love me?

i cried again today,
because  despite it all,
it's still you.

back and forth the
pendulum swings like those
playground kids
at midnight

me and him
dark moons and orangey
streetlights
his shirt

my frozen frame
he pushes me
and i swing
back and forth

like his drug habits
back and forth and i am thrown
into time
headfirst then backwards

and i see him, all of him
his childhood, his happiness
his trauma
all coming together to create

one chaotically beautiful human being

and as i swing i mention
my childhood, my happiness
my trauma
and he calls it fascinating

calls me a beautiful tragedy
and back and forth we swing.

the night of your disappearance
i cried a flood
and tried to drown myself in it.

for the next four weeks i mourned
the loss of you
greasy hair and no showers

just wandered around my house
no appetite
just sadness eating me alive

on the 31st day i worked up the energy
to stand for a half hour
to burn you off my skin

and to wash you out of my hair
i swept the dusty floors
and changed my cotton sheets.

washed my face, scrubbed my lips
of their outer skin.
how does it feel knowing now you've never touched them?

why do you yell?
why do you say these horrible things
because you love me?
because i could never get anyone else to love me.
and i storm down the stairs and
crawl into my bed
covering my head
and i cry.
i cry waterfalls into rivers into lakes
while my mother strokes my hair
and i love her but i need her to leave
but i am scared of what will happen
if i am alone.
so i try to sleep, but i choke
everytime i lay down and each
morning i wake up with marks on my
cheeks.
breathing quickens as i remember
what happened the night before
and how i am too afraid to open my
bedroom door.
i consider the window.
consider the faulty lock.
consider walking to His house at 2am.
he is the only one i can count on.
but i cannot worry my brother like that
and my mother would be distraught
i want fresh air
and water
but i do not ever want to eat again.
the sight makes me sick.
I want to wander away from this forsaken house
to somewhere better.
but is the grass ever greener?
because at this moment it feels like every blade is
dried and dying.
feels like thunderstorms and rain clouds but not
the exciting kind.
the terrible,
melancholic,
cursed kind.
the compressing kind
the depressing kind.
the kind that makes you want to jump off a ******* bridge
but the water's freezing.
the kind that provokes earthquakes.
i don't even know what kind means anymore because
the only one who shows me
i have not seen since april.
think of how lucky you are,
warm house, family, friends,
but they wouldn't feel ******* lucky if they stepped inside my head.
if they knew how many flowers crumbled up and turned to dust
at my touch or if they knew what it was like to have
no clue who you are.

i can't even ******* breathe anymore.

and no matter how hard i try

how i turn a blind eye

how i block you out

how i lie in doubt

how strongly i feel

how i toss and  i turn

i can't let whats not real

affect how i learn

no matter how much i know

in my head, i am smart

in life i lie low

but i lie through my heart.

i lay awake last year

on a flight from mexico to here

i saw all the lights of london

flickering,  like the sun

i figured out that night

how i felt  in flight

looking over the world

love became unfurled

When I was a little girl
I thought I was a princess
And sometimes I still like to
Play pretend
Be somebody else
To hide myself behind a neurotypical character
Who is normal
Who blends in with the crowd
Of people my age to whom I am nothing alike.
Sometimes I think that it's fine.
I can handle it.
But then the artist inside
Screams
You can't hide it
Sometimes, in the privacy of my own bedroom
I let myself
Be myself
Only for a couple of minutes
Because I quickly become too much for anyone to handle.

Pink purple blue and
i
have nothing to say but
love
It's become reckless and
you
Don't understand the fear
but
the fear isn't the only thing
i
hate, I can't stand the feeling
don't
Mention your opinion
know
Your facts, the what's and
how
You sleep at night only
to
Wake up again
tell
Me again why
you
kicked me out of your life.

Lots of my poems are
Depressing
And that's not how it should be
But that's mostly how I feel
Purple and deep deep dark dark grey
it's not all sunflowers and picnic blankets and daisy chains
Sometimes life is simply a refrain from feeling like you should jump off a ******* cliff into the sea
And never surface again
Sometimes my poetry is wholesome goodness
Fun for all the family
Until it gets
Inappropriate
For anyone to read but me because it's deep deep dark dark and very very dangerous

Why is it
That I am at my most creative
When I am in the most pain
That I produce as I labour over the emotional debt I've been building up for one too many years.
That is unfair.
Why is it that
All these tortured teenage girls
Cannot sleep
Cannot eat
Cannot drink
But can choke
Choke on the pain like they choke on the ***** they will become addicted to
Cough up their lungs because of the drugs their parents told them not to take
Shudder as their legs are pried open by fingers that do not belong
Fingers that are attached to those you thought that you could trust
Cry, in the shower
So nobody can hear you
See you
Feel you
Taste you
Breathe you.
Build it up and up and up
And you are untouchable
Nobody can tell you
It'll all be okay
Because it is not and never will be.
The anti depressants you were prescribed can numb the pain
But not eliminate it
It will always buzz on the back of your brain
Like a bee flying into the cold glass of a window
Again and again.
You are trapped.

they ask how they can help me.

oh lord, i wish i knew.