"I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead;
I lift my lids and all is born again.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

The stars go waltzing out in blue and red,
And arbitrary blackness gallops in:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.

I dreamed that you bewitched me into bed
And sung me moon-struck, kissed me quite insane.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

God topples from the sky, hell's fires fade:
Exit seraphim and Satan's men:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.

I fancied you'd return the way you said,
But I grow old and I forget your name.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

I should have loved a thunderbird instead;
At least when spring comes they roar back again.
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)"

i’m broken
the way every writer is
broken and the words fall
out of the cracks.

Back to counting the hours
until I get to go home.
Back to awkward encounters
with strangers I know.
Back to wearing my earphones
in tense public spaces.
Back to standing alone
in a sea of the faceless.

Back to socially inept,
standing in corners,
intense introversion
and wishing it was over.

Back to hiding my flaws,
my quirks and my oddities--
not talking too much
because I say all the wrong things.

It's back to the grind,
and I'll muddle through
because at least when it's over
I'll be home with you.

there are more than
30,000 people around me
and I am trying to find you
in every single one of them

Hey friend,
Put down the blades
This feeling surely fades
Put away the pills
Watching you live like this kills me inside
Don't hang that noose
Keep that rope loose
Acknowledge your feeling
It's not unappealing
Look at the people who love you, their faces
They know you're going places
Not in the ground
Let your broken heart be found
You are loved and needed
Even if no one begged and pleaded
You're meant for something
Imagine the smiles you could bring
If you stay
Come with me, friend, I'll show you the  way

I want my words to be beautiful.
Beautiful like yours.
I want to see ordinary things,
Find the magic in them,
And put the magic on a page, for everyone to understand.

I want to have a way with words.
I want every poem of mine
To become a masterpiece.
Just like yours.

I am not broken.

But you are.

You see the world through pain,
And pain makes the colors brighter.
It makes the value of feelings
Climb higher.

Sometimes I wonder
If I should be broken like you
If I want my words to resonate
Like yours.

Sometimes I wonder,
If it will be truly worth it
In the end.

I wonder what it will be like,
To cut myself up to pour out the beauty inside me.

Just like you.

I imagine that you
Raise the blade
Slice your feelings open
And write your masterpiece
In red.

Some people feel their pain with grace.
Some people swallow their emotion and let
It claw out of their chest with an exquisite
Spray of blood and a melodious sob.
Some people wake every morning,
Sure that they are alive because their heart
Is adorned with the scars to prove it.
Some people are a pretty kind of sad.

Other people are brutish transformers.
Other people quietly inject their toxic pain
Into their bloodstream and wait for it to run its course.
Other people work every day to sweat it out,
But never quite feel clean enough.
With clogged arteries, other people explode.
Their pain takes their power and other people
Break things, break people, break love.

In hiding you will find only danger;
There is never anything beautiful about anger.