Forcing,
Grinding,
Beating,
Breaking,
Till’ it dissolves-
But without reward.
Without poetry.
I wander through an empty house,
With a blank slate.
My mouth hangs open
In the frightful anticipation,
A grotesque eager waiting
To hear the crackle of the quiet,
Long forgotten voice.
Merry music to accompany.
Faint lies,
“It’ll be alright”
but the merriment creates an anger within.
Suffering,
Broken pencils, wasted ink,
Slamming themselves against stone walls
Leaving themselves behind
In the pitiful agony of hope
That something pleasant might emerge.
But alas, it is useless.
There is no more ink,
No led,
No charcoal,
All the wells are dried up,
Nothing but my own rotten blood remains
To help produce a work of words
I can be proud of,
But without success.

every slow song
        reminds me of you
every held note
        a lingering memory
every lyric
        tattooed on my heart
every pause
             the emptiness I feel in your absence

I appreciate men with good looks
and good books
With slick black hair
who show they care
cheekbones that cut through my heart
Can't take my eyes off em' from the start.
They dress well at all times
humming as peaceful as chimes,
rough
and gruff
yet smooth like milky batter
mad as a hatter,
pale as the whites of my eye
so ***** I could die.
We don't have to speak
to know our connection is anything but weak,
Maybe he plays chess
Doesn't mind I cook less
invigorates me
to be the best that I can be
for when he holds my hand
space and time snap like a band
and           we             know            we           are            free.

Eyes lingering on the steel blade.
Tracing the exact way to tie that knot,
noting where she puts her pills.
Floating in the water,
body tempted tempted to forget how to swim.
Maybe if I starve long enough...
Sometimes I think about death,
but then question
What's the point of killing the body
when the soul died so long ago?
What's the point,
when I'm already dead inside?

Tick Tock goes the clock,
to play my final ballad.

Tick Tock goes the clock,
a simple rhythm,
to seal my tomb.

Tick Tock goes the clock,
long after my heart has stopped.

They tell me it's simple,
really not that hard to do,
Even if you don't believe it,
try to,
say and pretend you do and it'll help.

so I try.
I try my best.
but the words sting my tongue,
they make my heart sink
and a pit bubble in my stomach.
Sometimes they make me cry,
because I try so hard
to believe the words I'm saying
I'm trying so hard to make them true
but I can't,
because I know those words are lies.

"Look in the mirror
and tell yourself you're beautiful,
that you're worth something."
But I can't.
Because it's too big of a lie.

If you’re a useless ******* and you know it clap your hands
- clap clap -
If you’re pathetic waste of space and you know it clap your hands
- clap clap -
If nobody cares about you and there’s nothing you can do
If you wanna cut out your heart and throw it clap your hands
- clap clap -

I don't want to go home
don't make me go home
I'm trying my best
but failing
I can't stop crying
I'm so scared
please don't make me go home
I don't want to go home


but I have nowhere else to go.

I've been eating all day
yet my body still tells me that I haven't had enough
and that I must eat long after my stomach is painfully full,
long after the taste is bitter,
long after I'm disgusted with myself
and I've forced it all out.

Keep eating
go on
do it
keep eating,
it's all my mind ever says
it's all it has ever said.

what's wrong with me?
why can't I stop it
and plug my ears
and not listen?
why am I so disgusting?

Maybe I'm hoping to eat myself to death,
but in the mean time,
I'm nasty and miserable.
I'm revolting
but I can't stop.
I can't stop.

Cafe girl
     writing in your notebook
about needles and knives
pausing the white knuckle
to post an instapic
of that chai latte
with cinnamon sprinkled on top
  too perfect
    for the heartbroken caption
you thought of a week ago
             do you
             do you
             do you wish
you had someone sitting next to you
        reading over your shoulder
head in the crook of your neck
smelling like vanilla
   cafe girl
            I bet you have lots of dreams
so why don't you write those down instead

A song comes on the radio
and it's quite catchy and fun
and I'd like to hear the lyrics
so I can find it later-
but I can't hear
because nobody else cares.

They chatter-scream-and laugh excessively loud
because they've all heard this song before,
know it by heart
finish to start,

and that's how it is.
They all listen to the same music
watch the same shows and movies
know all the jokes
all the comedians
and stories
they already know.
I try to catch up
and watch what they watch
step where they step
and sing their songs
but there's too much catching up to do
and not enough time
they're too far ahead of me.

So I give up.
Lengthening the gap
between me and the rest of my peers
only isolating myself further
incapacitating my ability to connect.

I'll watch my quiet foreign movies and syfy shows
and learn my own jokes
and continue to listen
to my odd quiet music.
They know their world,
and I know mine.
and no matter how hard I try
to visit theirs,
I'll never be able to stay.

Light white noise in the distance,
a constant fuzz that echoes the beating of the drum.
An empty mind and glassy eyes,
taking in the world,
swirling, fast forwarding
until it passes me by
in the blink of an eye.
Heart beats slow
until everyone is still,
I look around to see
the world is motionless,
and yet faster than ever.
Blank pages filled with words,
empty picture frames
and silent movies.
The world around me,
I'm sure it's beautiful,
I'm sure it's glorious,
I'm sure it has meaning,
but with each breath I can't help
but take it all in,
and let it pass me by.

It feels like I can never win,

each step drawing my breath thin,

spending my time sharing pointless memes

pretending I don't see horrors that haunt me in my dreams,

I try so hard

I play my rarest card

but my fists still beat in defeat-

It feels like I can never win.

My father hit me.
Hands strangling my neck.
I was just a kid,
he said it was my fault,
I believe that it was.
He said I didn't deserve to live,
I believe that too.
I believe his screams
and the bruises he laced my body with
I believe his words
that I'm nothing
that I'm garbage.
I blame that monster
for breaking something inside me
that 7 years later is still not repaired.

I blame her for never calling the cops.
For calling me a liar
for telling me I gave the bruises to myself.
for making me feel guilty.
I blame her for telling me she wished I was one of her miscarriages
I blame her for telling me I'm good for nothing
for telling me I'm fat
for telling me,
like him,
I deserve to die.

I blame them
for the anxieties
and anger
and fears
and panic
and the scars on my heart.

I'm scared of the world.
I'm scared of it's people.
I need help.
I'm dying.
slowly.
quickly.
steadily.
and not at all.

I feel everything,
every word
every breath
is a dagger to what once was a heart
when every day
you're told you're wrong
you're told you're a mistake-
an inconvenience-
that could never be loved
it takes an effect
you cannot fight
and just when I think
maybe I can get better
a single word
sends me spiraling
dying
crying
suffocating
and scared
wishing someone would touch me
in a kind, gentle way
would hug me till I fall asleep
and love me
even though I cry a lot.

I was told
the blame was on me
that I ruin
and poison
everything I touch,
but I blame them,
so much so
I can't get better,
so maybe we're both to blame.

he,
has been on my mind lately.
Just a google search away,
there's his face,
wait,
that was 2012?
I was 15,
could have sworn I was a child,
absorbing the crime
with less acknowledgment
than an ant on my arm.
How could I have been 15?
I was so small,
it was so familiar,
and now it seems not so far away.
I suppose I like to think,
the trauma stopped when I grew up,
that all those bad things happened
when I was very small,
but they didn't stop.
They still haven't.
And at the end of the day,
I'm still a little girl,  
clutching my stuffed animals,
trying to make sense
of the world around me.

Swank to the floor
My ears are covered
So I hear nothing except you
Dancing in front of the mirror,
In the dark,
So I can picture myself any way I want
Any way I need to…
I close my eyes and move
No longer fearing the dark
I hold my knife close to my heart
Protecting myself from the horrors of the world.
Monsters try to bring me back to reality,
Turn on the light
And open my eyes
Forcing me to see what really stares back from the mirror
Knife protect me,
Bring me to safety.
Back to this gothic but garish look I adore
Wrap me in your melody
Carry me until My feet are far from the ground
Until my voice is in sync with yours
Continuously until nothing else matters
Until the tears are gone
And I do not clutch my chest in pain.
My Knife My Knife,
Protecting me always,
Leading me to good places,
My knife,
Delivering me from a world of strife.

just a girl
confused about boys
trying to find her place
laying on the floor
watching Skins
dying to be skinny
but can't stop binging
crying over silly things
heartbroken over matters
that in years won't matter
lonely
angry
misunderstood
broken inside
writing poems
because I'm so deep
and unique
no idea
how to be social
without the media
staying away from drugs and drink
because that's the only way to cope
with past tragedies
that have soiled my good dress
so I only wear pants
in case I need to go on an adventure
so my life can be more like those teenage movies
with dancing
montages
love triangles
and happy endings
thinking I'm extraordinary
pretending I don't notice
how conformed and ordinary I am
unsatisfied
reactive
and inactive
I'm just a teenager
no different from the others
I'm just a teenager
and soon I will grow up.

I have wasted my life
worrying
and cowering
and sleeping
and crying
feeling so scared and alone
acting so ******* fragile
but now
I have a real reason to be afraid
a fear that looms
and cackles
and quakes me with fear--


I have no doubt
that I have wasted my years,
I've had ample time to grow
but remain stunted
a child still shivering in her own bruises and blood
wondering why her family doesn't love her
why no one loves her
I haven't moved on
I haven't changed
I've never lived
more than once--
the best years of my life
the best people
are behind me
ahead is work and bills and disappointment
I ****** up
I ****** up bad
I haven't made a dent in this world
no not even a scratch
I've done nothing
been nobody
and It makes me so scared
and so sad
that I'm not sure what to do
how do I move on
how do I progress
how do I start living my life
                                         a life
                                    any life
I'm desperate to know
how to fix my wrongs
I'm desperate to believe
there's a way I can come back
from this mistake.

the charming figment of a man stood against the wall with hands in pocket

"feel drained, my love?"

"Lost in the fog, I'm afraid"

her eyes grew and drooped to cartoonish proportions

grammar and spelling amiss

she sighed and hunched

typing typing typing

the ever secretly questioning robot

going about it's robot business

"Want to run away, my love?"

"very much so... away from my mind... very much so"

My eyes alit with fire as I spoke
sensing it come up my throat
and dance to the tip of my tongue,
it quivered and wavered
seconds from bursting
but when I opened my mouth it lay

                still

Knowing it was not yet time,

and so it remains,

on the tip of my tongue.

I gave you my past

my body

my all

I told you my heart

I pronounced adoration

I  left  you


and you did not reach out.

Please
I know I was mean
I know I was rude
Please
just remember
I'm only 19
I'm only nineteen
I've never had a home
I've always been on my own
I'm only nineteen
acting 30
pressure
so much ******* pressure
can you hear it through the sobs
the neighbors knocking at my door can
please
remember I'm still just a kid
I'm still so little
I'm still living in that day
when my own father tried to take my life away
please forgive me
I'm trying so hard
but it's all so ******* much
and I'm so overwhelmed
and i'm so ******* tired
and the worst part
is that I'm doing my best
I'm doing everything i can
why doesn't anyone care
why doesn't anyone cut me slack
I'm nineteen
I'm still just a kid
It's still 2002
I wan to watch cartoons
please i can't breath
I'm sorry I told you to go
come back
come back
leave
come back
I don't know what to do
I don't know what to do


I am so tired

He plays the guitar
        with a soft raspy voice
             we spent last night *******
                                   this morning too
                                he didn't mind
                        take after take
      of my audition video
seventeen strong
but he demanded ten more
             shopping
      and laughing
      and kisses
                        losing count
                              of how many times
                                          he tells me I'm beautiful
resting my head on his
as he watches all twenty seven auditions
again and again
to make sure I am successful
and choose only the best
        I fall asleep in kingsize white sheets
        peaceful
and smiling
                    knowing that I am safe and happy.

He hates writing poetry,
as boys like him often do,
he hates books,
and science fiction
and generally most everything I like.
He clings like a mollusk,
is none too smart,
and often I'm bored with his very existence,
but lord he is sweet
as he spends an hour
writing a fantastically ****** poem
to repair what I keep breaking.

Poem in hand,
he lays his heart at my feet,
and in one swift motion
I stomp on it.

slowly
the notifications ease to none
Inbox (1)
midnight advances
lovers drift from romances
I still stand-
though the web I spun spanned
-alone,
watching drifters drift home
no one left to speak
isolated feels the freak
I'm still awake
my leg begins to shake
I wait
I know it's late
but I still post
ask the server host
is anybody out there
breathing internet air
who else sees night and is alive
Friends Online (5)
I become the owl
responding to the wolf howl
our communication afoul
"Hoo?"

Let me be alone
alone
alone
leave me by myself
myself
myself
I don't need anybody
anybody
anybody
Though I won't tell a soul
a soul
a soul
That someday I wanna be a
married woman
married woman
married woman.

It's time for the rehearsal
a hearse rolls
up the gravel driveway
the highway
is closed for business
bunnies
in black suits
hopping along with white flutes
playing along with the tune
coughing in the fumes
the tiny angel is shouting
it's a parade
it's a parade
scratching at boils sprouting
pretending
pretending
the earth isn't covered in something blacker than shade.

I'm not a poet.
I'm a lost suicidal worthless teen
desperately grasping at light words
trying to make sense of this world
desperate to find meaning
begging for a connection
drowning in my silly hopes
that the words I write have an impact
and mean something
and can somehow help me.

I'm not a poet.
I'm just a lame useless twisted pathetic scared drowning kid grasping at any old thing that floats.

pockmarked
and bloated
gurgling
and slurping
droopy
and moody
frazzled and frayed
to the public's dismay
ugly and nasty
snarling
and gnarling
red and blotched
human botched
creature unspeakable
lump unthinkable
grotesque
and robesque
inflexible
unmentionable
ugly little thing
never gets a ring
pay no attention
never even mention
ignore
this bore
and put aside
a thing too wide.

not a moment of peace
serenity
constant noise
and fighting
and ignorant immaturity
this tank is too small
I am not a fish
I am a shark
a beta
don't keep me in this bowl
where I can never be by myself
I want to scream and cry
I'm going to lose it
I'm going ******* crazy
get me out of here

Nobody has time to define
their own beginnings
middles and ends
non linear format
muttering disguise through minimalism and simplicity
in it's rawest of transformations
and I can't bare to sit still long enough
to appreciate it.
The world is going too fast
we can't sit still
shaking our legs at our desk
instant updates
sweet sugar
instant pleasure
instant
asap
at a whim
we're moving so fast
we can't slow down
not enough to appreciate
a tune that can lift you
and carry you
into a mindful experience.
I'd like to lay here
and listen to the bloodflows of sohn
but I was raised in this very fast world
and I don't know how to slow down
to close my eyes
and listen
without checking my texts and notifications
I can't slow down
I can't be still
I can't breath.

The rain beat down hard and fast.
She hardly felt it as she ran from the past.
Would he follow her?
Just to experience again that strange allure?
She stopped and looked back.
Where she was she had lost track.
There was no one.
No footsteps.
No quiet breath to be detected.
Her mind had been infected.
She thought he would follow.
His desertion was too much to swallow.
She felt the rain.
Wishing she could see him again.
The cold consumed her.
Shivers took over.
The rain blended with the tears that flowed. ----1-10=20
Falling to her knees
Begging simply “please,”

I need to ask you a favor, Blue.
I want to give you my heart,
will you take it?
I'm not asking you to keep it- no...
I want you to take it far away
bury it
smash it
slice it
I want my heart to be your stress ball
coffee coaster
your punching bag
something you wipe your muddy shoes on-
I want you to accept my heart
unleash your darkest fantasies
and do with it as you please.

You got lost in the woods
that was so long ago
they looked and they looked
but when they found you
you'd already been gone so long
what would you think
to see all the people
posting on your facebook
what would you think
to see all these people
posting how sad it is
how sorry they are
how ripped up they are
even though they only knew you by name
by occasional meeting
so many people
posting "so sad"
but not feeling it.
posting "I'm praying for your family"
but how many are really praying?
posting "gunna miss ya bro"
and giving it no other mention?
lots of sad emoticons
and sharing of that **** police report
but nobody is saying anything real
anything noteworthy.
I never heard of you until now,
but your death means it's a fad
and everyone's saying how sad they are
but they're not really feeling it.
They're so used to just typing R.I.P.
and using sad emojis
that only a select few
are really hurting,
the rest are just making it trivial.
I'm sorry for your loss Lucero,
I'm sorry you're gone,
I'm sorry people see this
as a bandwagon
jumping on
because that's what they're used to doing,
and that's what they'll keep doing.

Hello, weeping angel.
How are you, fallen star?
Where have you been, thorny rose?
Deflowered
and snapped,
left to turn crisp
and brown
in winter's quiet wake.

How do you feel,
with clouds hugging at your shine,
Cobwebs masking your beauty,
how does it feel
to be destroyed and
shattered by them?
Left in shambles, broken...


Tell me, flower,
how does it feel to die?

I'm 18 today
but I feel 80
more like an old crickity relic
long forgotten,
never treasured,
wandering around
trying to figure out where I fit
where I might belong
hoping someone will dig through my crusted dirt
and polish me off
knowing that I am gold underneath,
but I fear I will have rotted away
before that ever becomes a possibility.

I was brought into this world by that not of my own choosing.
I was given a face and a name I cannot come to terms with.
I was raised by beings I've had too little time to observe and thus, do not understand them.
I was garbed in itchy fabrics that play too much of an important role in this society.
I was raised up and told to go forward on these stilts I can hardly maneuver-toddling as I go.
I was built from links of mineral, calcium phosphate, and collagen which was fitted with a skin prison,
then drowned in blood and excess organs
and told to live.
I was born to buy and sell and work and love
and to force offspring into these bone brackets and tell them
to do what I have done- for the sake of what?
After many years I cannot work the stilts
or understand my name
and the pollution they injest so heartily does not agree with my lungs
nor the gravity that keeps them barely grounded
keeps me barely able to lift a finger from it.
It seems they all learn to live in their own way
and do and don't with purpose
and exist as they should
carrying on like their parents-
but I watch from the diagonal,
evermore obstructed from their ways.
too little time
yes too little time I've had to study-
I wasn't ready when I was brought here
and by all that is orphic I was brought by mistake.

I'm a stranger in human skin
an alien in a person's world
a broken cog mixed in with upside-down and backwards instructions
devastatingly incompatible with all my fuzzy eyes can see.

I wasn't meant to be here
and I didn't come by choice.
I was forced in
and I must force my way out.

This doesn't feel like just a phase,
My whole body's in a daze
i've been running circles in this maze.
on the inside looking out
Run-Jump-Scream-Shout
You cannot keep me in this cage
Not when I'm filled with all this rage
Watch me break all the rules
Set all good morals ablaze
I've got red lightening on my face-
To get me out of this place.
Judge me on the street,
Size me up like a piece of meat
Come closer-feel my heat
You wish you had what I have.

My Story's never ending,
I'll live to be a legend,
You'll wish you got to know me,
You'd beg to be this free.
i don't care if you agree
I'm not here to please,
i'm here to correct the lie,
and write a story that will never die.

white sheets on thigh
can't move too high
blinds closed-shut out the sun
can't tell me our night is done
white sheets on thigh
can't move too high
drunk eyes can't tear-away from your face
   this     is    the     good     place

The most romantic thing I've ever heard,
I soon realized is the only romantic thing I'd ever want to hear.
He told me he'd get me pills-
not the kind to get you going-
not the ones for fun,
no,
the ones that would save my soul.
That would stop the pain and sorrow,
the tears,
the anger,
the weight,
the terrors,
and that's when I realized,
the only being I could ever love,
is one that could save my soul.

You beat me
you break me
you consume me
but what can I do?

I love it.
The pain,
the harsh grip,
the prominent shouting
and ice cold eyes
to match your icy heart.

It's not that I love it,
it's that I know it.
This kind of treatment
is all I've ever known.

Kind words,
a light touch,
and trusting eyes

I could not do that.

It's the monster inside you I fall for,
it's the sadistic ******* that chills my spine
it's the voice that says
I am yours to kick
and yours alone.

Monster who cracks the whip
and sharpens the knife,
Who leaves me black and blue,
I've never loved anything before,
so I might as well love you.