I search for happiness in
Music
Books
Food
Movies
***
Television
Hot showers
Cold showers
*******
Internet
Medication
Trees
Sunlight
Grass
And­ I still can’t find what it is that I’m looking for.

i do not want to crack myself open for you any more.
i wish i could take back all of the love that i gave you and keep it for someone more deserving, keep it for myself.
i did not care enough for myself in the past. i want to change that.

i recognize that i deserve better. i deserve love, goodness, and health. i deserve happiness. pure joy. i deserve to feel good things, no matter how i felt in the past. even when i am at my lowest, even when i feel that i hate myself, i will continue to respect myself enough to not strip the love i need and want away from myself.

i swallowed your grief like a poison,
i ate your disease with a ****** mouth.
i split my knuckles and ****** the consequences,
i pulled out my core to give you stability.

i would have taken the weight of the world on my shoulders for the rest of my life to alleviate your pain.

but it wasn't enough.

i am a curse
i am an elegy
i am a sunburn
i am cold grief
i am an insincere kiss
i am the highway separating lover from lover
i am shaking death's hand

placing my fingers on my sternum,
I crack myself open,
a fresh orange,
sweet juice dripping down my fingers.

find something you love
let it break your heart

find something you hate
let it eat you alive

crooked nose, bruised knuckles, uneven eyes. strange marks on your body where they do not belong. scarred and bruised and angry and ugly. i kiss the wounds that stretch across your sore body and say a quiet prayer.

you're thinning and your eyes seem empty, but i love you all the same. you're reaching out for something that does not exist, never will; i reach out too, if only in the hope to grab it for you.

you deserve the universe and the scratches on your cheekbones prove it. you fight like a wild dog but your heart is softer than anything i have ever known.

i wish i could save you. you and your twisted morals. you and your crazy love that has never given up yet. you have had so many chances to stop; to give up; to lead a life of morality and clean hands and hearing in your left ear.

you are so wild. you are so harsh. you are so ugly.  and i have never seen anything so beautiful.

drunk off the *****,
drunk off the energy,
drunk off you
i swear i have stars in my eyes
and when i look up
i see you,
i see the universe

deep in my core, I am as sweet as honey. I have beautiful bouquets inside of me. touch me and i will bloom for you. slice open my midsection and the flowers will curl around my ribcage. crack open my skull to find incredible thoughts growing as they form. separate my legs and watch me open petals of the prettiest hues.

my petals, my nectar, my thorns. all yours.

selfish lovers have picked my petals off, crush me at the stem of my core. I begin to wilt; I slowly rot. they are repulsed. my beauty turns to death and they turn the other way. quick to blame, they fail to notice it was their hands to taint me.

flowers require delicate hands and the nourishing sunshine to survive. when kept in the dark, they wither. how could you expect me to be any different?

if I could rewire this brain of mine -- this body of mine -- I would much rather fill myself with thorns; poison, barbed wire to wrap my bones.
but I am soft, I am sunshine and nature divine. I bloom and wilt and recreate myself time after time. it takes more than ravenous hands to stop me from growing.

you are nothing to me
but a two year memory
of cigarette stains
and a caffeine dependency
that still claims me to this day

you deserve a lover that treats you like the hot sun on their skin. someone who will open themselves entirely just to let you in. a love like rain, soft and gentle; a love like hurricanes, violently passionate. a lover that never imitates the snow. all you want is that sunshine again.

you deserve a gentle lover. selfish enough to want you all to themselves, but not too selfish that they become self-centered. you deserve a lover with a tongue like honey to drip sweet words and sweet kisses on all of the things that you once feared to be too bitter. a lover that runs their fingers in circles at the nape of your neck so you can fall asleep at night. a lover that opens the door when you knock.

you deserve persistent love. not scattered messages and drunken phone calls at four in the morning. but rather, love letters and calls in the evening because your voice is the thing that soothes their soul best. love so fulfilling and reassuring you never have to worry. not even for a moment.

you're still losing weight. i didn't know it was possible to shed the pounds this quickly.
the less you eat, the more you age. in three months, you'll have aged six years. i can't recognize you anymore. it's like parts of your soul have gone missing.

your body is what holds your mind. it holds your soul. it held me.
i know it sounds so selfish, but i want you go be who you were before.
not only were you healthy, but you were happy.
and warm. so warm.

i hope you gain back your warmth. i hope you find the pieces of your soul that have corroded in the stomach acid your force yourself to choke up. i hope your serotonin levels raise to a normal number. i hope that the color comes back to your cheeks.
i hope that you become something other than a walking corpse.

if you don't, i won't lecture you again, but i won't be able to come back. it's too hard seeing you like this. i hope you understand.
but please know that i will always love you and i will always be on your side. i believe you can do it. call me when it happens.

it's hard to be in love with a girl made of porcelain.

she's there; so angelic, so soft, so fragile.

you want to touch her.
it's easy to promise she won't break,
hard to follow through on it.

but the problem,
believe it or not,
is not the breaking her.

it's that when you break her,
you pick her back up and put all of those tiny pieces together.
you look down at your hands, and there she is.
tiny pieces of her embedded in your skin.
it's going to be hard to get her out.

it's hard to be in love with a girl made of porcelain.
but it's even harder to be reminded of the love lost
and the damage done
when you look down at the small scars
covering your palms.

everything is calm.
i feel like i'm waiting.

i'm waiting for someone so brilliant and bright to come into my life.

for our souls to intertwine like fingers do
as we sit on the grass, watching the sky pass us by.

she is seeing the stars,
i am seeing tiny pieces of her heart and soul
scattered on the cloudless ceiling.

Do not fall in love with the boy with an acidic tongue.
If you do, you will never be the same again.
You will find yourself sneaking out at four in the morning for just one kiss.
You will never stop thinking about him.
You will always want more.
He will burn holes in your skin with his mouth and heal each and every one of your wounds with his fingertips.
You will get addicted to him.
But he will drain every ounce of life out of you.
And it will be a slow and painful process.
But it's sure to happen.
So again, I warn you,
Do not fall in love with the boy with an acidic tongue.

i've been trying,
over and over again,
to write down
my thoughts an feelings.
i have so many,
but so little are the words
to describe them
on this ****
piece of
paper.