You dream about your day in the sun
A shot at the spotlight
Fifteen minutes of fame
Oh
You fantasize about chance meetings
Lucky opportunities
Late night drinkin’ at parties
Oh
Honey
Well
You may be skinny
But you got no muscle
You may dream big
But you work small
With ease
Unaware fame is a disease
It’ll break you
‘cause you aint anybody
sick of people hearin’ your name askin’ who?
Too much makeup lookin’ gaudie
Looks is all you have
No ambition- talent to be had
You
Think about the result
The perks
Obssessed like the cult
Think you know how it works
Down on your knees
Flex that ***** it’s a tight squeeze
Longing to be seen
Desperate for the 15
10 + 5
and you’re in the hive
10+ 5
but it’s a straight dive
10 + 5
will make you feel alive
You think you’re one of a kind
You’ve made up your mind
you need that 10+5
but it won’t last a lifetime.

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.

1 minute 15 Seconds
(I counted)
we stood there silent
I couldn't look at you
were you looking at me?
Why did we stay silent?
why did you stay?
the campus was emptying
but still we remained.
Were you trying to say something
as much as I was?
I had to restrain myself
from asking you out to coffee,
do you like coffee?
I don't.
But asking someone out for tea sounds weird.
Anxiety rumbles in my stomach
and my mind ricochets to the moon and back~
so many possibilities why you're there with me
any possible meaning behind your actions-
I'm so scared there isn't
I'm so scared there is
You stress me out, Blue,
what did you think
for that quiet time?
I thought of everything
and counted in my head
trying to find significance
in the amount of time we spend.
We were quiet
for 1 minute 15 seconds
and I couldn't see your face
legs shaking
locked in place
So many things to say
but in all my thinking
and guessing
and fretting
I couldn't(can't)
figure out
if saying those things
would be okay.

and she is undone
at the edge of shadow and sun
her will given to the wind
and her rich furs errant and skinned.

I laid out twenty-two new shining glasses.
Regal, sparkling and tall.
I took each one in hand,
a rag in the other,
and turned on the water.

Suds spooling round
up and down
whirling softly
with old hands
washing with precision.

It's three am and I stand solitary
and tired at the kitchen sink.
I keep my socketed eyes
down to the glass and suds
for fear of looking into the reflection
of the window above.

An hour drones by,
I don't notice.
Busy standing still
in the dead of night,
up and down
round and round
suds bubbling
from old hands
washing precisely.

I wash them once
I wash them twice and set them to dry.

I dry them once
I dry them twice and set them side by side.

I won't be using these, no,
the glasses are for others,
to look proper while shining and clinking
and tipping and sipping
and laughing and being happy.

Eyes down from the window,
where a haggard thing waits,
I look to the glasses,
and wash them once more.

I take three showers a day
1 in the morning
to wash away the night terrors
1 after I get home
for me to cry
and shake
and let the boiling water scorch my body
to help distract from everything I'm scared of
which is a lot of things
and then when I'm calm
I'll work out all my regret
then take a shower to clean the extra off.
then I'll go to sleep
and wake sweaty and distressed
and repeat repeat repeat
and I can only be happy
because it used to be more showers
then it was 4
and now it is 3
and that means
I'm getting better.

Kiss every inch of me
show me how it's supposed to be
     tell me you'll be good to me...
down my neck in the dark
careful you don't leave a mark
     I want to keep this between us two...
                  promise you won't think less of me
      I just want to be set free
         care for me     ah
         be careful with me...
and promise you won't think less of me

he's in the next room,
that man,
and what do I think of him?
more importantly what do I think of myself?
Each night like clockwork
thoughts begin to drizzle
and put a weight on my heart,
fear that I'm making a mistake
that I need to get out
before it's too late,
fear that I'll regret this all in a year
fear that I'm worth nothing more
than his toy,
he does, in every breath,
something to contradict all my fears
yet here I am
3am
and I'm petrified
I'm going to get hurt.

You hate the sound of your own voice
Too manic to make a ******’ choice
Trapped in your head
Can’t get out of  bed
Cold like you’re dead
You don’t know what you want
Jealous of the girls and how they flaunt
You want to be just like that
But you think you’re too fat
So you try to be zef
Scared to tell people you’re a little more than deaf
A little thought like this
Is death’s sweet kiss
Comatose for hours
Fretting and crying
Scorching hot showers
Sick of denying
You hate your own existence
Wish you could stop the resistance
Stop Hell’s persistence
Reach for social assistance
Hiding away in sleep
Wishing dream boys would keep
Scared by your daddy
Fukin stuck way back then
Tellin’ yourself you a fatty
Meditating-you think you’re so ******* zen
But you’re throwing things
And screaming sins
And sawing down your wings
Pretending you’re wearing different skins
Just to cope
With having no hope
You’ll ever get better
You’ve made your own fetter
And you have no ****** idea
How to live as a whole human
Shaky hands never made a stria
Permanently in ruin
An evercrashing mistake
You feel there’s so much at stake
You don’t know where to begin
So you just stand so ****** still
Spending every day ill
Wishing someone would touch your cold hand
And finally understand
That when it comes to this blockage
You’re an already dead hostage.

She is glory
    the girl with dark hair
she is music
    in her red pants
she is lyrical
    twirling through the crowd
she is inspiration
    eyes closed, smiling,
she is soul
    the girl who stomps her feet

Don't wake up,

Don't wake me up,

Don't drag me from the only place I feel nothing.

Sounding alarms, a wretched voice,

telling me I can't go back.

Weak bones push a barely functioning body up and onto bruised feet,

cracked back- I go through the motions

I pretend to eat

I dress in the slop in front of me

I look to the mirror and pretend to like what I see.

I drag myself to a car nearly as broken as I

and off to banality.

I hardly breath

I hardly speak

My mind is elsewhere,

a where they'll never find me.

Fatigue overhwelmes me,

I taste the need.-

It's already sixth period-

what happened to the day?

I don't remember,

it's rare that I do.

Long hours curled in a ball

hoping their eyes pass right over me.

I sleep walk through the day,

a ghost to all who glance.

I'm home again,

where no one has the chance to see me,

I hide behind usernames

and craddle their comments.

With no voice and an empty belly.

I mindlessly tap away at an electric screen.

It's not really me.

I turn my thoughts to things so strange

and much much older than me.

Wasting away the hours,

maybe the more fantasy I watch

I'll forget about where I really am.

It's 2am-

I no longer bother to try and sleep

I can shut my eyes

and wait all I want

still nothing but darkness

and a quiet house-

why is no one ever home?

Not that I care, of course,

I'll go to the dark but comforting

corner of Tumblr,

and wait.

4:30am

like clockwork

I sleep,

dream of dark things

much older than me,

and quietly beg to never wake up.

It's an Affliction
A dangerously terminal attraction
How the Angel's cries
are watched by spies
but only heard by the Devil himself.
Dangerous, Unique, Beautiful
The Angel cries just for him
She suffers for him to hear
She is good and she is pure
But she is sick and needs a cure
He breathes quercetine,
is ruthless and mean,
His gender it would seem, a mystery.
...Influence-Love-and Turmoil
He/She is nothing but desire
Of his/hers soul she cannot tire
Revolting in his mannerisms
Unsightly in appearance
yet dripping with ****** appeal
and all must have him.
The Angel is no better,
The world is white and black
with sheep crammed together in a stack.
He dismisses their devotion
is malevolent and confident.
He changes form but is consistent.
Cringe to look at him,
but unable to stop.
He draws you in and beats you down
until he takes the win and you're on the ground
Like fine wine he gets better,
older and older the legend grows.
Stealing more hearts and sanity.
A disgusting man with turbulent ways
yet somehow there is nothing the Angel desires more.
Revolting in his mannerisms,
Disgusting in appearance...
yet I find it so horribley attractive.
Such a sick need to have it.
An Affliction of Attraction... My My...
It would seem that I am the beast and he is the beauty...
that sick, anorexic, drug beaten beauty.

Do pigs know they are the ugliest,
dirtiest,
smelliest
most repulsive animal on the farm?
They must not,
because otherwise
how would they gain the strength
to wake up each morning
and walk about the farm
and eat slop?
They must not know how ugly they are,
otherwise they would lock themselves away.

I wish I were as ignorant as a pig.

This is not a poem.
This is a fact.
I am alone.
I feel alone.
I do not understand the complexity of touch,
of love,
or having someone care for you.
I have a million things to say,
            a million ways to describe,
fast and jumbled together
so I'll put it simply.
           I'm alone.
           I'm alone and it hurts.
It hurts worse than happy
It hurts worse than sad
It hurts worse than anything I've ever known...
but then again,
this hurt is the only thing I've ever known.

My eyes water hard
as I focus on the train floor
that hasn't been cleaned in maybe years

"Don't look upon the outsider" I say to myself
"Don't look upon the tall skinny man with sandy hair and age old eyes. He'll stomp out your freedom with those pointed leather boots- he'll curse your breath with those cracking hands-
that geometrical jaw will whisper all you've ever dreamed of"

I kept my eyes down
He had no scent
yet I could smell the divine.

Was he looking at me,
or gazing past?
If only I had the courage to look,
now I'll never know,

I'll never know.

If I said that I long to be happy,
that would be a lie.
In truth,
Happy hurts more than anything else.
At this point I'm not sure
if hate it,
or am afraid.

What is happy?
What is this feeling
that leaves me miserable when alone?

Being miserable
and in pain
is by far easier on my soul,
than those fleeting moments of happiness.

Happy is something that hurts,
Happy is something brief,
Happy is something I do not wish to experience.

Will you hold me
and sing to me
run your fingers
over my shoulders
and through my hair
will you snuggle into me
breathing softly
telling me about your dreams
will you hold me
while I drift
deeper and deeper
into eternity?

I don't like you,
I swear I don't,
I hate your stupid face
and your funny hair
and ridiculous clothes.
I don't care how funny you are,
your stupid laugh is heinous.
I hate your swagger,
I hate the slight crack in your voice,
Truly Truly
I hate most everything about you.

You're not a good person,
in fact you're quite mean,
you treat people like objects
and your drug use is obscene.
Truly Truly
I hate most everything about you.

I hate it when you walk by
and look at her like that,
look at all of them like that.
Tall, beautiful, perfect,
your favorite kind of object.
It shouldn't effect me, but it does,
leaves me standing in front of the mirror crying
wishing I was pretty
wishing I was tall
wishing for a cute laugh
wishing to be perfect
               to be your kind of perfect

You've said it yourself,
you're broken inside,
you're the shell of a funny boy
with monsters swarming inside.
Maybe I'm crazy,
but I see something more,
I'm already taken,
but I fear that I do not love him like I should...
I fear I love you.

I don't like you,
I swear I don't,
you're not a good person,
in fact you're quite mean,
you treat people like objects
and your drug use is obscene.
Truly Truly
I love most everything about you.

the thunder talks to me
and tells me to be afraid
of it's glory
and power
and boom.
it tells me that if I don't want to see the lightning,
then I must close the windows and draw the shades
and turn my back.
The thunder sounds
even when there is no storm.
the thunder is always there within my heart,
warning me of the lightning,
telling me
to close my eyes
cover my ears
stay inside
and stay afraid.
always.

my heart it beats fast
tries to move
tries to fly
far away
from what makes it heavy

I need an anchor
a lover
make it calm
make it easy

I need someone to keep it still
hold it down
lift the weight
that makes skittish

let it know
it doesn't have to beat so fast
to stay alive.

Melodramatic beat,
A dark pulse,
Bouncing inside me,
Throbbing,
Quite old in origin but timeless.
Throwing myself into a trance,
“believing the strangest things”
up at the sky,
longing,
dismissive.
A distant forrest beat
Pulling the flow of blood
Every which way,
Close my eyes and feel it travel through my body.
Feel it slow with the melody,
Feel my soul fly
As the distant,
Grandulated voice calls out for it.
The voice of a fallen Angel,
Music to my ears,
Poison to my mind.
“Come closer” he calls
“Love me” he whispers.
Obey,
An Alien.
How can I not?
The trance lets me forget everything else,
So off I go,
One foot in front of the other,
Letting the music push me off a cliff.
Into an expanse I fall,
Eyes closed and faint smile painted on my porcelain face.
Porcelain.
Like china I shatter,
But not before the music ends,
The beat breaks free
Just long enough for my eyes to open
And realize the consequence,
But it is without regret.

I'm happy,
As the knife drags across my wrist.
I'm loved,
As the skin is torn away.
I'm okay,
as the blood comes pouring out.
I'm worth something,
as my tears water down the blood.
I'm happy,
as it pools around me.
I'm happy,
as the overwhelming pain is bliss.
I. am. Happy.
as I lose the long awaited consciousness.

Angel.
She was just that
shaggy golden locks
to provide warmth when we cuddled.
She was old and kind
and couldn't love me more.
I slept with her, cuddled and happy
behind the couch
while my sister played violin
and my brother piano to accompany.
I told you stories and went on adventures
and loved you dearly,
but soon you couldn't step into the tub for a wash.
behind the couch was all you were,
It wasn't your fault
it was ours
it was his,
for beating you like he beat us
and when you tripped and fell on the stairs
he wouldn't let you go to the vet
he wouldn't let us fix you..
believe me
if we had the money we would have.
But soon too soon
you were old and broken
and-
I was too little to remember your death.


His name was Shadow,
but he was quite the opposite.
His fur captured all the sun's rays
and kept them to brighten my day.
It was the first time
they let me choose the family pet
and of all the happy golden puppies
that jumped and barked up against us
I had only eyes for the pup
who sat shivering in the corner.
I took that pup home and I loved him.
He was my best friend
and we played for hours and hours
but maybe I shouldn't have picked the pup
that wasn't like all the others.
All the dog training classes in the world
couldn't fix him
they told us that,
it broke my heart, to see him snap.
I was the only one he let near him,
I did my best to play with him
to run around the yard with him,
but as we did
my legs shook
knowing I might have to run for my life.
He left me with bites
and bruises
and always ripped my legs apart
but I loved him anyhow.
I tried and tried
but soon he was too violent
and even I couldn't run about the yard with him.
I just saw a golden slobbery mess
fighting himself
and growling at the glass door.
They took him away, and
I wasn't allowed to be there
when they put him down.

Daisy.
She ran circles around us
again and again
doing what she was bred to do
heard us like cattle
but the small puppy quickly learned
she didn't have to heard us.
She once fit in the palm of my hand
and soon she was too heavy to lift.
Energetic and wild
she shook with excitement at every sound
she loved us with all her heart
and protected us
but he was mean to her too
and smacked her
and hurt her
and made her cower in fear,
she always loved us though
and when it came to separate
I took her with me,
and he couldn't hit her anymore.
we loved and laughed and played
and she howled with triumph
whenever we cheered.
We had to remember though,
she was his dog too.
We didn't have time to take her on long happy walks
so we didn't mind lending her out
and she loved those hikes
she came back exhausted and happy
and
it was a shock to my system
I remember I didn't cry
when they came back without her one time,
he had jumped in the river after her
and my brother went farther down to catch her when she came up.
but darling Daisy didn't come up
no she was never found
the rapids took her rapidly and
I wasn't there
when she drowned.


Arden.
I found him
in the rain
barely moving
laying in the middle of a road
I got him to the side
and I laid soaking wet comforting the whimpering wild thing.
Matted, messy, muddy
a giant wolf
prestigious and valiant.
I took him home and wrapped him in a blanket
and loved him more than anything ever.
I was in highschool and he was big enough to ride
I'd never seen a wolf so big.
I found out he was abused
and kept in a white trash "home"
and he was so sick the darling couldn't howl.
We watched TV and ate chicken soup together,
until he was well enough to eat solids.
He slept in my room in my bed
and we laid out under the stars
for he had become my best friend
the minute I laid eyes on him.
When his voice healed
he howled to the moon all night,
and wolves in the distance replied.
Living near a forrest I couldn't wait for him to heal
to be able to run
and go up and down the stairs
so we could always be-
but
I'm not with him.
So I don't know if he's alive or dead.
many things happened
and his abusive owner called the police
they wouldn't give it back
but by law
we couldn't keep him.
My valiant wolf
who howled all day
until I came home
was taken far away.
I was there when we gave him up,
happy ***** stunning creature
until a stranger took him on a leash and led him to a room of scary cages
and he thrashed and howled and ran towards me
and you could hear his melodic howls after the door was closed
I left to cry in the car
because death didn't take my friend
he didn't have to go
but we went anyways.
I pray he's alive.
but if he has passed
I know he's in heaven.
I'm agnostic
but I still know he would be in heaven.
Because dogs deserve that.
all dogs.

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.

skinny.


I have trouble sympathizing
and empathizing
and condoling
those who open up their dark secrets
when it comes alight
that their secret is of the weighted, edible variety.

You say you struggled with weight
you couldn't keep it on
barely swallow a bite
you got so sick
and it was so bad
---
I must refrain,
as you speak,
from bowing down,
from praising you,
from questioning how you achieved
such beautiful strength
to become so skinny.

Your nightmare is my fantasy
your dark memory
is my desired future
Your shame
is my pride
Your wicked sorrow of the events
is glory in my eyes.

But I won't say that
no
I can't.
can't tell you how I envy
something that hurt you so,
but you can be sure
I'll be thinking it
feeling it
breathing it
forever.

I fell in love with the man runnin up the stairs
I fell in love with the man with the yellow satchel waitin for the train
I fell in love with the man with the golden voice
I fell in love with the man in the blue coat boppin in the rain
I keep fallin in love
with every pretty soul that passes me
I keep fallin in love
with men that belong to a girl I'll never be
I keep fallin in love
with masterpieces I can't touch only see
I keep fallin love
with the idea of a man that can set me at ease

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.

Such a short time
in which this feeling of fear
has grown enough
to control my life.

I "woke" each morning,
eager for the day,
eager for that class.
Acceptance,
and laughter-
a place where
we all look like fools
and our problems are left
on the coatrack outside the room.

I thought,
maybe I can do this,
maybe,
I can be happy,
just for a little bit.

I went so far as to socialize.
I thought this could be the year
to turn things around,
to finally be happy,
but then I made a mistake.

Socializing with someone
whom I would see in class,
outside,
and online.
Talking to me out of pity
or to make a fool of me
I know not which,
but I know now it was a mistake.

I was so happy,
just for a little bit,
and he made me happier,
but now fills me with fear
and an uncontrollable
nervous shake as we talk.

Chill, relaxed,
lucky for him as
he makes my heart beat fast
and not in a good way,
in a way that makes me self conscience
and close to tears.

Carefree personality,
but the way he speaks of women,
When he speaks,
like males often do,
of the petite sort of girl.
Bouncy and bubbly,
with short dyed hair
flowery skirts,
and spunky
with a perfect figure.

She's perfect!
He'll exclaim,
as his sort always do,
and I have to then hide my tears.

I go home and fall to the ground
curled in a ball
of my own pathetic tears.
Body overrun with the knowledge
that no man will ever lay back
at the end of a day and think
"I'm glad she's in my life"
"She makes me smile"
"I can't wait to see her again"
"How beautiful she is"


I'll never know that feeling.
I'll finish my starved
and shaky day
by confronting
my plain,
fat self
in that cracked mirror.

Now I "wake",
dreading the one class
I really liked.
Fearful of the irrational self loathing he causes.
Looking around to see a terrifying standard
of what is desirable.
Observing those beautiful girls
who know how to match their clothes
and style their hair
who leave school to live their lives,
while my mismatched cloth
and scraggly hair
goes home
to read books on how to fix a speech impediment,
on how to socialize,
on how not to be me.

How pathetic I am.
I'm not even sure why I'm scared,
or why his words hurt,
I just know that being there
kills me.
It rips me apart
and leaves my lifeless body
broken on the floor,
begging for death.

Eat me baby
raw with passion
steamed and crisp
tear me apart
drizzle me with honey
eat me baby
carnivorous delight
silver platter
just for you
bare your teeth
cooked to perfection
eat me baby
lick your lips
lick me
and lick the plate clean.

What kind of society do we live in that makes people feel this way?

I told myself I would never succumb,
I pace back and forth with tears streaming down my face
telling myself again and again
"I'm strong I'm strong"

I look in the mirror
and I beg to see something beautiful.
I beg to find pretty,
but I have yet to see it.
"You're beautiful You're beautiful"
I tell myself again and again
But I never believe it.

I collapse to the ground, sobbing
because I've failed.
six water bottles
and feeling sick
as that hopeless feeling takes over me.

I look in the mirror
and beg for a sign that I'm okay
something to tell me I don't have to do this.

But there I end up,
crippled over the toilet
vomiting my insecurities.

What else can you do.
You starve yourself but nothing changes,
You exercise none stop
but you stay the same.

You've thrown away the food in the house
to keep the bare, healthy minimum.

Nothing changes.
Nothing but shivers
and a voice
that knows you'll do anything for a touch;
Maybe if I'm skinny,
I won't be alone.
Maybe,
Someone will find me pretty enough to ask if I'm okay.
I wouldn't have to sit here sobbing
feeling hopeless.

But nothing changes.
Nothing changes and I can't stop the tears.
Looking into that horrific mirror,
Looking back at that red,
pudgy,
unpleasant face
mocking me.

A broken body

with a  broken mind

what else can I do,

when nothing changes?

I asked Ana to help me,
be my best friend,
she said it would be hard
and once I start
there's no going back,
sometimes,
some people,
take it too far,
and can't stop.
She said there's no telling the outcome.
She's wrong in that sense,
I know the outcome,
the outcome is beautiful.
It doesn't matter if I'm a corpse,
I swear if this kills me
I'm going to be the skinniest corpse
you ever did see.

ducked by the toilet
fears and sorrows
vomiting hoarsely
I can't help but wonder
will the pain ever end?
Will I ever be satisfied?
I can starve myself all I want
and purge all the food
and never stop the exercise
but when will it change
when will I finally look okay
I weighed 135 once
that was just a few months ago
I weigh 110 now
and that's not drastic enough,
I can do better,
I can do better,
Will the pain end?
I don't know.
Should I just take that razor and end it now?
no,
no,
because deep down I know
that one day,
someone will love me
and I'll be okay
and that it'll all come together
if I just do better.
so I wrap my stomach and sweat disgust
***** my organs if I can
throw the food away--
I can do better,
I know I can.
I need Ana's help,
she's always there,
encouraging me.
I believe in Ana
and Ana believes in me.
I'll destroy myself
until I feel okay.
Again and again
until the pain numbs.
I'll never stop,
because I can do better,
I know I can.

I've always been told,
since I was a kid,
that I was mean.
I'm told it nearly every day.
So I try my hardest to be the nicest person I can be
and sacrifice my limbs and time
to helping others
and worrying about them
all backed by the fear that I'm not nice
and I think I'm nice
but at the end of the day
there's always someone to say
"You're really mean"
which sends me into a depression.
I go home and cry
and try harder the next day
and keep trying and trying
trying to be nice
but again I'm always told that I'm mean
almost as if the harder I try the meaner I get
and today when he told me I was really mean
and an awful person
I stopped talking
drove him home
and then cried in the car and sat in an empty room
and cried some more
and I'll never understand
how no matter how hard I try
there's always someone there
to tell me I'm cruel.

I eat well
I sleep well
I **** well
I dream well
I laugh well
I bathe well
I breath well
I live well


so   why    don't     I    feel   well

If I weren't so afraid to speak,
we could maybe be friends,
you and I.

If I weren't so afraid to make eye contact,
we could maybe say "hello" every now and then.

If I weren't so afraid of the world,
things could maybe be different.

I dropped my pencil
it fell under the table.
I left it there.
I desperately wanted to continue to write
-but-
anxiety told me no.
Told me it was impossible.
There were too many people in the room
bending down would look awkward
disturb the person next to you
make you a pitiful inconvenience--
so I left it there.
I couldn't even pick it up when I left.
Because Anxiety was right,
it was an impossible task.

Am I a fool?
waiting on a rainy stair step
      shivering through bitter winds
on the chance I might see
     headlights pull into the lot?
   That I could catch him smile
     as he sees me?
        Am I a fool?
two hours in
   to think still, he'll embrace me
and squeeze me so hard
     the million little paranoid parasites
     might just pop out,
             and while I bury my face in his neck,
I won't have to doubt.

        Am I a fool to think so?

I don’t get mad.
Somebody’s yelling- frowning
Nobody seems happy
Everybody’s looking at me
  what’s with you?
sunshine
no sunshine
my wrists -- I’m sorry
  feeling hot
  cold
  older
  stressed
  upset
  furious ~ I shake
wanting both hands to stop
  stop
Breath  -- Just Breath
I can’t see
this monster
let slipped
         prying my neck
my eyes
melting eyes
trying to avoid hamburger
    I didn’t want a hamburger
      this monster looking at me
yelling
    What did you do?!
avoid
avoid hamburger
   stop
   furious
   cold
   upset
I’m not normal
outside my name
  somewhere
I didn’t want a hamburger
wanting to protect
  for once sunshine
   finding me
for once into me
why do I care
I didn’t do it
  on purpose
  on purpose
  I hurt
  my wrists
somebody’s yelling
          Breath
      Just breath
        I’m sorry,
        I’m sorry,
I’m mad

I walked in and saw a pair of shoes.
I thought nothing of it,
and went away.
Later, again,
the same pair of shoes.
Those shoes sat down-
blank pants-
I linger long and heard her breath,
building up the courage to ask if she's okay,
"Yeah" a quiet voice cracks.
she's not okay
she's hurting, sick maybe,
but she seems so sad.
She doesn't need me to get anyone
and when it comes to wishing her well
"yeah" is all that I hear.
"Yeah" filled with a quiet torment.

I only saw her black shoes
and skinny black pants.
curled up in the largest stall,
to think I had gone in
feeling sorry for myself
feeling miserable
there to check the mirror
to see if I still look as
disgusting as I think I do,
and there she is,
black shoes
black pants
curled where nobody would notice.
I know that voice
I know that breath,
the tears, by now,
would be stale on her face.
I went away
but still her sad black shoes
patted sad footprints on my heart.

so tell me
what do you think about love?
should it be something you struggle for work hard for
spend hours stressing and sweating
over how to make it work
letting it consume you
with fear
and anxiety,

or should it be effortless?
should it be comfort
and easy
should it excite you to the bone
and fill you with carefree procrastination
and a long
drawn out
well deserved sigh?

"I'm sorry"
said in six varieties
a thousand times a day,
he asks why,
why it's all I ever say-
but how can I tell him
that it's all I ever feel.

Sorry burns from deep within,
Sorry runs boldly through my veins,
Sorry is screaming from my soul,
whispering from my eyes
and falling from my lips.
Sorry was beaten and spoonfed to me as a child,
Sorry was branded on my skin
Sorry was woven in my clothing
and pricked into my heart.

Sorry is all I ever was,
Sorry is all I'll ever be.

The morning is far away
but it will be bitter sweet.
It's a week away
but the emptiness is overflowing.

Elite memories
I wish were vague
pound into my heart.

Six years.
Six.

For each of those years
this date was special,
it was eagerly awaited
and planned
and performed-
a date in which
I would spend all extra money
and countless hours
plotting,
awaiting the chance to please
and dazzle.

For six years this date was special.
Now... so quickly... it's nothing.

I know what she'll be doing
I know what she'll be eating
I know what kind of cake she'll get...
what she'll think about
talk about
laugh about
joke about
be confused about
everything...
I...
I know it all...


For six years April 16th
was the most important day of the year,
the day my best friend would age
just 19 days earlier than I.

For six years April 16th
was my devotion to her.

but now...
now it's nothing.

It's a week away but still
my body goes weak with the memories.

I look at her new best friend;
just a prettier me,
it's not like we fought
or we did anything wrong-
our world just stopped.
and split in two.

I know what she'll be doing on April 16th.
I'll be alone in my house,
facts of her penetrating my brain-
for I know all there ever is to know-
all the stories she's ever had to tell-
all her wants
hopes
dreams
fears-

Will she think of me?

For the first time in six years,
she will have a birthday
without me.
Six years without being separated..
six years.
It's like those years never existed.

I fear next week
like no other.
I'll sit in my room-
unable to even wish her a facebook happy birthday,
I can only sit and wish her happiness.
So here it goes,
to the only girl who knew everything about me,
and I her,
to the girl I'd give the world for,
to the girl who is but a ghost of my memories
and I of hers,

Happy Birthday, Tiffany Amber.

I’m not paranoid,
it’s just that every word spoken to me
every compliment given
with that pitched tone
that implies an untruthful pity,
sounds like a lie.

Existence has never been so theoretical.
my motions never more blurred,
my notions never more unmotivated,
touching so underwhelming,
seeing so-last-year,
solidity so unnecessary,
I'm liquid
I'm air
covered in dust from toe to hair,
nothing has ever been so nothing,
space never so empty,
these in and out breaths so trivial,
revolving door,
Existence has never seemed so theoretical.

I
cannot sing
hardly speak
but my fingers
can press the keys
can pluck the strings
I
cannot sing you a love song
but I
can write a tune
so long
so dark
so deep
it'll make you close your eyes
make up your own lyrics
and you won't need to hear my voice
to know exactly how I feel

It's interesting to see how it goes
when somebody dies and nobody knows.
It's a cruel cruel world
when the rain flattens hair that's been curled
and her makeup is running
and she looks so stunning
but it would be crueler not to mention his tears
muscles cover up his fears
be a man
they preach
be a man
take a stand
don't be a leach
be the biggest
be the best
and not anything less
for they stress and they stress
otherwise he, is, nothing.

It's a cruel cruel world
when we brand our
children
with something worse
than labels-
expectations-
like horses in stables
bred for perfection
bred for success
bred to be a show pony
with no free will
glitter and smiles
nothing but phony,

It is branded in their skin
it's burned quite deep
like all of their kin
a scar to keep.
Hold it in,
careful,
breath with the beat,
walk in the middle of the street,
you are not your own
your heart is made of stone,
for otherwise you are nothing,
and will not be noticed upon passing.

I didn't eat for three days
so I could be lovely
like Yolandi Visser who's above me
if I don't eat meat
will there be extra room on my seat?
for adventures- oh
I wanna live like louis
cause you're so aw
and I'm so ew
should be the other way around
but I'm bowin on the ground
you a she-ra
he-ra
no ska
hip-hop double dutch
south paw
fighting like a gang from the hood
grew up on the rough streets
of GV
oh Jeez
so tough
smoke ****
post a pic of my blunt
love to hunt
'cause I'm so cool
be jealous of me
and my shirt that say skee
****** with the fuckbois
guys,
I think I need to grow up
haha
jk
messin with the sub
tellin my mom to shut up
I smell like shtub
ugh
I'm so oppressed right now
white privelage is hard
I'm a smart teen
marred
as an ignorant delinquent
teeth clinquant-
I can be eloquent
but I'm treated like an infant
so frequent
I act like a miscreant
nobody seems to understand
I don't even think I do
get that lotion 'way from me
gotta get tanned-
uh
dya see my abbs
dya see me ***
I'm a piece of meat
rare and raw
with seasoning
dress code
don't tell me otherwise
underneath american skies
it's all about your size
supersize the food
downsize your weight
keep it down
keep it low
till gravity
brings you crashing down
in a geneva gown
close-rubbin-
gap thighs
'cause it's
mcm
wcw
tbt
to when I did fbf
anacronyms
I don't even know how to spell it
what a ****
bathroom wall vandalism
"fat *****"
haha
so gangsta
so tough
I have it so rough
middle class white kid
you've got to be kidding me
praise cthulu
giant squid.
meme
2k15
ah

At it's finest,

love

is a double edged sword.