beauticians say
that we shouldn't sleep in our make up
but one day we'll be sleeping forever
and then
morticians will say
makeup is what we need
for our eternal sleep

butts
butts
*****
butts
***
butts
*****
this is the best poem i've ever written.

you would think
that with all the time i spent wearing daisy chains
i would learn how to make them
but i never did.
you would think
that just by looking at me you could find something
good about me
but I know I can't.

There is a danger
to introducing two friends.
we all know the drill
i've accidentally
replaced myself
with the new me
and the old me
is "still your friend"
or "still cared about"
but do you ever talk to me anymore?
it's only been a month
since you two met
and now i'm left here
with absolutely no friends
and you know what
*******
i'm sick of being everyone's
second choice
i'm sick of being put down
for not knowing a band
he introduced you to
sick of everything
sick of you.
but i miss you so
i really do.
you're an *******
but i do miss you.

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 ***.

i'm in a psychology class
and all i've done is take too many tests
about my personality
and grouch over partner work
but i can't help but love it
the human mind works in any ways we think
if we can think it
i could split my brain in half
and still be fine
i learned too much about anxiety
and now i think everyone has it
most of us sure as hell do
i've seen the subtle human power moves
all it takes is standing up
standing while everyone else is seated
creates such power
everyone in the room has to literally
look up to you
yet i've still taken too many personality tests
been too afraid to score my IQ
been too
anxious
to see how anxious i really am
oops

I found myself
painting a picture of a cigarette
and I found it really strange
that I was painting on the smoke
with watercolors

The distraction of an arm
a choke hold
strangling my wrist
strangling my words
without touching my throat or needing to speak
I hold onto my arms
like they might fly away from me
the distraction of an arm
my own arm - around my wrist
everyone is so tall
I'm an elf, tottering into a forest of giants
teetering around their toes
I'm in the way
I'll get hurt
but these are gentle giants
I know they are
I know they won't hurt me
but my arm doesn't get the message
I don't hear the message I tell myself
the distraction of my feet
one in front of the other
one
  in
    front
      of
        the
          other
it's all my eyes can see
I focus on my feet
as if I look away they'll run away from me
my feet take me where I need to go
so I need to go
home.

little things
like feeling greasy
uneven feet
or cracking knuckles
these little habits are the part of me
that i hate the most
i touch my hair
i scratch my skin until i bleed
people think i'm on ****
because my skin doesn't fit
there are invisible bugs
everywhere
i always wash my hands
i have to start on my left foot
and end on my left
here i sit
covered in habits
in anxieties and pains
my ******* brain
hates me

when i was little,
i thought that oyster crackers were made from oysters
so i refused to eat them
because oysters are gross
when i was little,
i liked dunking my head into a pool
because wet hair was fun hair
when i was little,
i wore a tutu
or i wore nothing
none of those things hold true anymore
oysters are actually pretty good
and i can't have soup without crackers
wet hair freezes on the way to my car
and let's be honest
i don't look good in a tutu
and i sure as hell don't want to look at myself naked.

I often begin my poems right here
directly inside of this box
this "body"
and I think that it's really the only way
to put out things I like
It's fresh and raw
and a little bit squishy
but that's okay
some people really like squishy
here I am in this squishy little body
this raw poetry
the only time I will ever like this poem
is when I can still feel the salt
crusting over on my squishy cheeks
and I've never found it so difficult
to type out the word "squishy"
so many times in a row
my face feels so crusty
but at least it will taste nice
to a passerby who may happen to lick it
I often regret poems
but this one is squishy
and some people like squishy
so I guess I like squishy.

STOP
SAYING
EVERYTHING
I SAY
IS
INVALID
you are offended by my feelings
you are offended when i am anxious
i tell you
'i feel unwanted'
and you say
'that makes me feel bad, don't say that'
*******.
I FEEL THIS WAY BECAUSE OF YOU.
I FEEL THIS WAY BECAUSE OF SOMEONE
I INTRODUCED YOU TO
I CAN'T ******* HANDLE THIS ANYMORE
I HATE YOUR ******* GUTS
YOU ARE A MISOGYNIST *******
but you're my only friend
so I'll stick around
I'll stick around
and shut up, like the ******* woman I am.
I am not made to shut up.
I am made to bleed.
I made myself.
I made everything about me.
I am the most important thing in my life
and everyone feels this way.
I am not selfish.
I am in my own head, not anyone elses.
so
GO
****
YOURSELF.
and stop telling me I need to think a certain way.
I WILL BE LOUD
I WILL BE ANNOYING
YOU WILL NOT PUT ME DOWN FOR BEING A FEMINIST
SO SHUT UP
PLEASE.
just let me be selfish.
let me be an *******.
let me be anxious.
I will be everything I ever wanted.
and I hope you can still be my friend.

we both have very different bad habits
but they both require us to wear long sleeves
and deal with sharp objects.

I'm all lopsided
muscle on the top
fat on the underside
thighs strong
the underside wiggles
biceps meant to hurt
triceps that look like my grandmothers
and all the spaces inbetween
that poke out, nothing but skin.
Hipbones like razorblades
wrists frail and shaky
jaw pronounced
collarbones like a skeleton
I'm so lopsided
and I want to look like a whole picture
instead of a few puzzles
that someone tried to shove together
I am a wobbling duck
stuck with a mind
that cares far too much

Pulse.
bumping, beating, thumping, drumming. Movement. It keeps me going. It keeps me going too much. I am too much. Too much crazy, too much THUMPA THUMPA THUMP.
Flutter.
twisting, shaking, twitching, jumping. Tics. Nervous gestures. All GO GO GO. I can't remember the last time it got me anywhere.
Fear.
anxiety, sadness, anger. I want to be alone. No. I want to be alone with you. No. I want to be nothing. No. Stop making me so angry. I just want STOP STOP STOP. People are too much. I want to be done.
DONE DONE DONE. NO MORE. THUMPA THUMPA THUMP. GO GO GO. STOP STOP STOP. Stop. I'm done. I just need to relax.

"I'm scared of commitment. I never gave you the real reason for why I told you I didn't want this. I said things like 'i'm too far away' or 'You deserve better'. Truth is, I'm scared that you'll want to get married someday. That you'll want kids someday. That I'll have to see you die early someday."

"I wish you would let me pay for your hospital bills. It's the least I could do for saying sorry so often."

"I wish I could take it all back. You don't trust me anymore. That's why you're so distant. You don't trust me because I broke up with you and said it was a mistake right after. I don't trust myself."

"Just let me at least buy you lunch."

"I'm sorry you're so sick, but I''m sick too. I just want to be sick with you, for as long as you're still around."

"I've decided I want commitment. I don't want to get married, but I think we'd make super cute babies. Just think of it: beautiful green sad eyes, a chubby face, and my full lips. They would be so beautiful. Your eyes are so beautiful. I don't want them to be gone once you're gone."

"Ty. Ty please. I need you right now."

"I just miss you. I just saw you days ago and I miss you."

"goodnight Ty."

"Sorry."

it's not very reassuring
to hear "um, okay."
as a response to me asking you out.
your attitude is passive
and annoying
but i still like it and that ****** me off.
and you know
that i would jump at any opportunity
to jump
your bones.
so **** your lazy little attitude
and **** me instead.

I have yet to understand
how the weather can feel "sleepy"
but I sure as hell can feel it
the wind on my bare back glides like water
and the scent of freshly cut grass
is intertwined just a little bit with that of wet leaves
the swell of the waves
mirrors that of the clouds
ebbing and flowing at no particular pace
I have never felt such a crowd
while I am alone in this place
this place where everything is tangible
the air feels like ghosts in a small room
and I feel content

Do not tell me I'm wrong for focusing on myself
I am the most important thing in my life
Without me I'd never get anything done
I'd sit in the corner and cry
like I had nothing better to do
So don't tell me to stop crying.
My tears can water even through the salt
the eye of my storm can soak an entire city of cotton
without my tears, I'd never see a rain cloud
I think that if the rain were salty
it wouldn't be so bad
we could hold our bowls outside for a moment
and never have to deal with the awkward
"hey, pass the salt please"
so don't tell me to stop crying
because my tears can salt the bones
of any animal that has ever had the misfortune
of not receiving proper information
on how to cross a road
salt is so pure
yet it stains the cheeks of the unwell
and the pure
and the *****
so don't you ever tell me
that I shouldn't be self centered
because at least I received proper information
on crossing a road
and I don't look for a light
in this tunnel.


I strike the match.

it's strange the way we skirt around each other
like trying to catch a piece of dust in the sun.
it's strange the way we hold each other
but never talk about holding each other.
it's strange that you are such a huge flirt
but are still the shyest person i know.
it's strange that i haven't asked you out yet
but we still act like a couple.
it really is strange.
but it's astonishing
how wonderful you are.

I spend too much time
engraving spirals
into the edge of my desk
I spend too much time
doing things
I don't have time for
I don't have time

i wish i could be the kind of person
who talks like they're reading poetry
who doesn't have to ******* swear all the time
or who can make swearing feel like
a caress
or an eyelash
in a glove
for safekeeping
i wish i could have found the eyelash
i stashed in my glove
i wish i could stop thinking so much
i want my hands to relax
i want to stop finding scratches on my stomach in the morning
i want to wake up feeling like i didn't go to sleep 10 minutes before
i wish i had a clean room
i wish cleaning my closet
didn't mean throwing everything in a toy box
and keeping it in that closet
i wish i could stop hurting myself
every time i didn't know what to do
or was mad
or sad
or so ******* tired
that i'm not even aware of what i've done
i just wish
to be better
smaller
less boring
talented
healthy
okay.

how am i supposed to forget about you
when i spend every night thinking about you
and it never gets any easier
there was so much left unsaid
undone
we never graduated to climbing across the bottom of the golden gate bridge
we never went to new york together
we never held hands under the stars
actually, we did hold hands under the stars
but not nearly enough
i can't write about anything else
i can't even think about anything else
i go through my days
finding songs that remind me of those times
and even the happy ones
snake their way into my bones
twist their soft fingers through my hair
and gently pull it out
crush my skull with all the things we sang in the car
burn like the tips of our fingers
when we pass over a cigarette
and fumble
like we always did
i wish these scars would stay forever
but they always have a way
of fading
unlike you

I did a very horrible thing today
let's just say that all progress is lost
fell down the hole in my ears
and didn't find the other side
squeezed through my bellybutton
spread through my bloodstream
to turn my blood a dark purple
but hope is not lost, you see
all that progress may be lost inside me
but hope thrives in places other than my blood
or my ear canal
hope thrives everywhere

if we're thinking in terms of heads and hearts
what have i got to show?
my head is where my heart is
and my head is also where my head is
over thinking, over thought
jumping from swings never
took so long

we're all professional cage builders
we build them for ourselves
say 'i can't do that'
and we don't
we never do that
not until we become
professional cage breakers

It is how it is
we all just laugh it off and go home
to our spindly bed frames
and our burnt out Christmas lights from last year
It was how it was
a home that once held a soul
a dog that **** on the carpet whenever we left
and even a few fish
It is how it is
the coffee is, and always will be
too strong
and I keep getting holes in my socks
from the one nail that keeps trying
to jump from the ground
and land on the wall
to hold a painting of you
when you were okay, too.

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'm sorry if you're sleeping. I just kind of realized that I've taken you for granted. Really. You were the only person to care about me or be legitimately nice. I know I ****** up, multiple times. Every time made me realize that you were always good to me. I haven't been good to you. I'm so sorry. Everything started at a time in my life when things were bad. Really ******* bad. You were there and it practically saved my life on multiple occasions. I wish I could be that for you, but I'm not a good person. I've become lazy and self centered and horrible and I know you can see that change in me. You're the only one who noticed I was different. I'm going on a rant I'm sorry. If you can call me please please do it as soon as you can.

I've seen dreams fail
or fly
I've seen her face fall
or smile
Every time I hear that song
or go anywhere
it's where we've been
I've been everywhere with her
or just here
you've been here
I can almost smell it
but that was months ago
I'm just so ******* tired
so *******
lonesome
I can't make music anymore
I can't play guitar
I won't touch a piano
the only thing I'm motivated to do
Is write these poems
because it's something new
I want to write these poems
for you
because writing songs
is your gift for others
and for yourself
I miss it so ******* much
so Brianna,
this is for you.
If you ever happen upon this
this is for all the times we
listened to Kanye in your car
smoked a cigarette; a life
smiled
jumped
driven
hoped
this is for hoping
you'll come back
just long enough for me to tell you
that I'm ******* sorry
and I will always be your friend
always
even if you don't want it
even if I don't see you for years
I've seen your face fall
or fly
and I've seen your fingers fly
over the keys
over the frets
around a cigarette
I miss it.

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 keep trying to still be friends
but you gave up
I'm not sure what I'm giving up on

We sneak out
It's 10PM
we sit, then we walk
we walk for hours
there's no difference between the stars
and the moon
I hold their hands
because I can
The fog scares me
because it can
we laugh, we dance.
we've walked a mile
we walk back
It's 12AM
the light dances off the lake
like we danced in the road
I stand in the water
the light dances our skin, too
we go into town
because we can
I put my head on his shoulder
because I can
my hands are cold
I feel alive here
The night feels like Autumn
The shoulder of a best friend feels like home
I'm draped in comfort and arms
armed
with hands and life
up in arms
up in the clouds
we all feel alive out here
where there is no difference between the stars
and the moon
I feel alive
I think I'm alive.

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.

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.

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 in therapy now
and it's helping
but it's not.
i am so aware,
so aware that i feel anxious
so aware that my leg is moving at amillionmilesperhourandicantstop
so aware that i have just s
                                         c
                                           r
                                            a
                                              t
                                                c
                                                  h
                                                    e
                                                      d   my face
so aware that my face is red
and i also know what to do about it
but i'm too anxious
too aware
to do so
andmythoughtsaremovingsofast
sofasticantprocessthemallatonce
i­needtoslowdown
slowdown
slow down
s l o w
d
o
w
n
stop.

can somebody please turn down
the dark
tone down the shadows
I can't even see
the flash behind my eyes
anymore

You are here.
Right here next to me.
I know it, I feel it.
I'm talking to you
about just normal things.
You are here.
So solid I can touch you
But then I fall asleep.
Then I wake up but a split second later
and you're gone.
You were never there.
This is the kind of feeling
That scares me every time.
Being so sure
that there is someone in my bed
that you are here.
But it was all just
a vivid dream
of the worst kind.
You aren't here.
You never were.

You are no different
than the rest
you don't get to dictate what is or is not offensive
based on  your own opinion
just leave me alone
I haven't done anything wrong
just leave me alone
stop pushing me so hard
because it's unfair
when I try to push you
and you get angry
this is so
wrong
off
you're not special
I miss when we weren't special
together

I make things up sometimes
I'd like to think
that I will look out the window one morning
to see you standing there
I'd like to think
that we walked up that hill
hand in hand
I'd like to think that I'll never see you again
but I make things up sometimes.
and sometimes reality kicks in
and I'm so disappointed
that I can't help
but to just keep on
making things up
I'd like to think
that I'm not crazy
but you like crazy
like a fat kid loves cake
and like I love you
like I loathe you
so maybe you'd like to
show up outside my window
or hold my hand
to go up that hill
that hill where all my pets are buried
along with the hope I had
for you to come home one of these mornings

I can't stop thinking, thinking, thinking
Scratching skin, pulling hair
I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry
Oh god, did I say something wrong?
Foot in mouth.
Did I lock the door?
I don't know if I locked the door.
Did I say something wrong?
Foot in throat.
What time is it?
Bouncing leg, shaking hands
I messed up, didn't I
Did I say something wrong?
I said something wrong.
Foot in stomach. Digest foot.
I'm sorry I'm so messed up.
Did I turn the lights off?
Did I take the food out of the oven?
Did I forget to slow down?
Help me to slow down.

last night
i cried for you
but only for a little while
i hated you once
but not anymore
i only hate you when you're around
and i can only really love you when i see you
you've got a face for a smile
and only choice few would understand
just how ******* hilarious that is
i hate how i can say something
that will make you laugh for 20 minutes straight
but i can't tell you anything serious
i hate how you kept a vegetable in your car until it rotted
because you found it on the side of the road
and thought it was funny
it sure ******* was
i still have pictures of you on my camera
that i haven't developed
because face it
i'm cheap.
i hate how i keep talking about you in present tense
when i haven't seen you in almost 7 months
you still hang on my wall
you still linger in photographs
i still look you up on google sometimes
to see if you got that crap off your record yet
the further along these months go
the better.
because once it gets to 12
maybe you'll come home
maybe you'll even look the same
i ******* hate how hopeful i am
i hate all this
but i still hope
that i can see you again someday

I look back upon my own words and wonder
who wrote these?
It seems like it should be me
but it feels so foreign.
The scrawl of my own writing from mere months ago
looks like entirely new handwriting
and it's all really bad
****
my poems are all really bad

sometimes i want to stick my foot so far into my mouth
that it makes it to my stomach
and i digest it.
but that's okay, we all say stupid things sometimes.

it's 5:30 in the morning
and i'm not even going to pretend
that i just woke up.
but i am going to pretend
that you will ever want me
for anything.
because i want you
for anything you want.
it's 5:30 in the morning
and i still want you.

hold your head up
stay positive
be calm
don't tell me
what to ******* do

i can't bring myself to write about anything other than us
we were so perfect
so flawed
the four of us were so great
even through
the cigarette burn i left on your car seat
the night it took two hours to find you in hide and seek
the days when it was always either
three in the morning
or noon
every **** day we jumped off the high spot on the bridge
and never got hurt
the times we spent our money on cigarettes
and forgot your car didn't have enough gas
to go anywhere but away from home
the night it was just the two of us
your hands didn't belong around my waist
but they found it anyway
the only witness to a crime that didn't happen
was the moon
once again the four
then the three
and then the light left us
and it was two
no more three in the morning
no more bridges
no more moon
all it is
is two
and a cigarette

all my poems are about you
and I can't ******* stop
until this can all make sense again
an endless loop of the same feelings
and no matter how much I write
it just doesn't feel like venting
it feels like you're gone
and I can't do anything about it