It's a drug
Im addicted
More like
Overdosing

Meaningless
Everything just seems so...
Meaningless.

Wasting day after day just
Trying to relax
Trying to feel safe and cal,.
No thrill,
Few friends,
Just...existing.
Meaningless.

I want to do something reckless
I want to run around
In strange costumes
And my friends screaming
And giggling next to me
Because we were winning
Against the imaginary dragon.

Like we used to do.

I want the movie night and the laughter
Staying up for three days straight
To the point where we're sure we're
Going to fall over and never wake up.
I want the adventures
And the sleepovers
And the bonds we had
And the laughter
Because now everything is just
Meaningless.

and god,
most of all i pray
for them,
please stay away
from my heart
I'm through with this
this aching *****
filling with blood
then spilling it  out
so it can poison the rest of my thoughtless body
this red ink
staining the sink
please
just let me be me again
filter out the remnants of you
from this tireless mind
and ceaseless soul

After her heart
had been broken
one last time,
she promised herself
Never again would she let
some boy
with his head up his ***,
sweep in and woo her.
She promised herself that
she would turn off feelings of love
ignore them,
like a tired mother ignores
a screaming child.
She promised that she would never
let some boy break her heart,
never let some  boy even come near
her heart.
She decided to lock her heart away
but then when she wanted it,
she found it was no longer there.
So she wanders, empty and unfeeling
with a hole where her heart used to be.
She learned that a broken heart
is better than being heartless.

He is on my mind.
Still and I'm practically ******.
I think of him and just can't
bear the thought of falling in love.
Though I cannot bear the thought of
a falling out, he will be on my mind
until I see him in front of me
eye to eye.
Maybe reality will take me away from
imagination.
Because naturally,
it isn't happening at all,
and it never will.

I have drunk your water, and thus your wine,
Though I choked upon the former's salty brine.
Lapped up delusions of dehydration.
Oceans now praised as a denomination.

Drainage…I drank it…I drank your milkshake!
Pillaged claims of an Arctic at stake.
Ruskies, Chankoros, and Yankees all alike,
All willfully ignoring Canada’s most northernly spike.

Why is it that I write poetry?
Is it because of the self-torture in me?
Tell me, what is it you see when you read?
A light inside,
or a destructive me?
Have I wallowed so long in these allegories?
Or discovered the truth in a depressing sea?
Reveal-NOW
the truth to me?
Be I a gifted poetess,
or a pathetic sheep?