i think i've given up
on waking up early on sunday mornings
because when i close my eyes
it's flashbacks to you beside me
with a sleepy smile
legs tangled in sheets
and open windows

i think i've given up
superhero movies
because they were your favourites
on friday nights and anniversaries
when we watched the capes and guns and fights
and pointed out,
who was our favourites

i think i've given up certain songs
because we danced to them too much
because when i close my eyes
i see your favourite black and gray dress
when i hold you close
and let you go

i think i've given up
certain parts of the world
because when i went to new york this summer
i kept looking for you everywhere

i think i've given up
even my passions and desires
because it's been months since i picked up a brush
since all my paintings were you

i think i've given up
a large part of my life
a large part of me
because the moment i let you go
was the moment i found peace

it's never simple with you is it
the princess who ripped her own dress
and killed the queen on shards of mirror mirror
who knew the apple was poisoned
and ate it, laughing

it's never easy with you is it
the girl who refused to scrub the floors
but left the cinders light
to watch the house burn down

it's never fair with you is it
the one who cut her hair with a sword
and adorned the garments of another world
and refused to save anyone but herself

she goes to bed in his arms
tired from her day with friends

i go to bed drunk
because it's the only way
to shut the **** up

how natural this feels
like water flowing against a smooth stone
your voice echoing in to the corners of my lungs
and smell,
weaving between the strands of my hair

there's monsters staying in my head tonight
i can't sleep without their tears
two am? three am?
no wait, I think it's five?
it takes me hours upon exhaustion
to drain my monsters out
to lead them out to play

and fall in to the darkness

i loved her a lot you know?

she made me feel like i was ******* immortal. kissing her was practically my high. i counted all the freckles across her face every night before we fell asleep, kissed the ones that were sprinkled on her shoulders. i could have snaked my arms around her waist a thousand times, and never tire of the softness. or compare her skin to snow, every time it stormed where i was.  
she didn't take away my depression, but she made me forget about it. she made it easier. it was like a hurricane inside my head and her eyes could still the storm, even just for a second. and she was so kind to me, far kinder than i've deserved because i left her and i ****** it up so now she's gone.
do you hear me?

i ****** it up.

we were so beautiful
we burned so bright
until we burnt out

or at least that’s what i’m telling myself

i stared at the stars
and they stared back at me

but this time, i didn't see your eyes

i beg him to block out their songs
to shut his eyes
and ignore the blue sirens

but it’s obvious
he is stealing glances
when my back is turned
sharing the air
when my eyes are closed
closing the space
when i know

the petals are wilting

with no water

no sunlight

no one to brush the dust from the stems
and ask them how they're doing

i don’t think i connect to humans

the same way
they connect
to
each
other

he passed
and stroked
the leaves

and the whole tree shivered
like they were waiting for him

don’t try to act all ******* heroic
like i was a tragedy
like you knew me
like it’s affected you


i never knew anyone
and i was born with an empty room for a heart

i feel ******* disappointed

by
everyone

heavy footsteps
his hot breath
keeps me frozen

i grab his wrist
but i'm a feather
and he's a beast
and he pushes against my collarbone


the lamb cries
and the wolf is done his hunt

I had already fallen in love
with far too many houses
when you showed up…
wearing curtains of strong roots and heavy anchors
in the small folded corners of your smile
I found a home


in the absence of a “home”
my childhood was littered with several houses
and although the rooms were packed with orange chairs
and blue kitchen tiles
the houses never filled the home
the home that I recognized
when I saw a hearth flickering in your eyes
the gentle heater hum that came from your heart
and though you showed no walls or windows
there was no deadbolt on your doors
but a roof over my head
that I held up with shaking arms
and our fingers interlocking
like perfect lock and key

I had already fallen in love  
with far too many houses
when you showed up
and I wish I had known than
that you cannot make homes out of people

they stopped ******* working
maybe it was the alcohol
or the world falling apart around me
but they stopped

i can't remember the last time i cried
so i guess at least that part is working

it's so ******* loud in my head
and i nee dto *******
sweep the flowers
back in the vase

i know it's broken
the waters leaking
it's seeping into the cracks of the floor
just *******
gods sake
pick up the flowers
and put them back in

he's the only thing that's ever filled me to my corners
the way apple pie and ice cream make you hot and cold inside
filling out into every crevice of your body
and keeping you home

i always thought my lungs wouldn't take it
always
gasps of air

i'm constantly looking for fresh air
to fill the corners
and he does it well

i feel too much
too much of whatever color
is in this month

i cant
try new things
without
feeling all of it
like the ******* titanic on my chest
my mood will change easily
but it'll sink into the color
to the depths

ill be ecstatic
or ******* detrimental
everything sounds great
or like a threat to my breath
i want things to fill the void
never people
because they never fill it quite well
the way tattoos feel
buying something shiny
hanging on to it
absorbing it
till it becomes my personality
until the color takes over

it feels so ******* heavy on my chest
like an anvil
its so hard to breathe
rattling chest
shaky breathes

small lungs

it feels like im ******* suffocating
im dizzy

i want to cut
i say itll bring me back
and maybe it does
but the shakiness doesnt stop
just awake and trembling

i cut myself to stay alive
i dont cut myself because i want to die
i cut myself to stay alive

but now
i think i just like it
and the way it feels
and how the scabs form
and feeling the pulse of pain
when i run my fingers over
the mending

why cant i just want to live
why doi always want to ******* die
to stop
i know i mlucky
the luckiest girl in the world