I cut
and I told you.
You asked me
"How deep? Where? How many?
I want to cause the same pain to myself."
and all you did
was make it so much worse.
Because I know i've already caused you
worse pain than I've caused myself
before you even tried to replicate mine.
I am so sorry.

In less than a year
you will be gone
into the Marines
off to fight a war that someone else made
off to go
"kick some ***"
and ******* it
I know you'll kick ***.
but i will miss you.
just don't die, okay?
i'll miss you
and i'll always love you
just please keep being okay
keep kicking ***.

My hands are shrinking
my body grows smaller
you are filling every pore
replacing all the elements
with you.

there are often times in my life that i wish to die.
times that i would take a blade to every bit of exposed skin
burn my hair one strand at a time
smoke to die
rip my nails from their cozy beds
and let the sheets of blood flow from the line
but there are also times when i wish to live.
times that i wanted to be that kid
who lived life to the fullest it could be
who smoked to enjoy it
and ran outside in the winter
just to feel the cold
to feel.
the overwhelming part of these two sides of me
is that i want neither
more than the other.

I am so.
Transfixed.
On you.
Your neck.
I kiss your neck so much
I kiss it when we ****
It is so beautiful that I cannot pay attention to much else.
I am so.
Transfixed.
On making every kiss perfect
while you just ******* go for it
and don't care when our teeth clack together.
I don't love you.
But I am so.
Transfixed.
I can't stop looking at the stars tonight, baby.
They shoot across the sky like our movements below.
I cannot focus on one thing for too long
and you ask me what's wrong
when I look away so often.
I can't even write this poem well.
It ***** and that's just okay.
Nothing is wrong.
Everything is okay.
I'm just.
Stuck.

I want you to hurt as much as you hurt me. You snaked your way in, made it okay for me to be near you, made it great. Then you pushed me back out again without warning. I wanted you and everything you ever wanted to be. But now I  want all that, and to cause you pain. I want to run my hands though your hair, then rip it out. I want to kiss your neck, and then bite into it. I want to hold your head to my chest then snap your neck. I want to bring you in so close that you feel safe, then ruin you. But I couldn't. Because this is my first time admitting that I love you... and the first time admitting I hate your guts.

I'm so tired of shoving my heart and soul into things that i will just throw out, so exhausted. So bored with the tick tock of my clock, my heart, my fingernails, my tongue. I can feel my bones wear away inside me, this body worn for simply too long. these 17 years have created moth holes in my skin, faded and pale from the sun, the sin. I don't believe in God anymore, but i believe I have sinned, and I'm tired of feeling like a sinner. I have created this rhythm of feet tapping, pen twirling, eyes shifting and yet none of these rhythms have found value. I have created so little art for myself and I'm tired of calling myself an artist. I am not an artist. I'm just tired.