sometimes it's cold sweat and the pulse of my own drum
and the night is not night but it's just as ageless.
outside is brown and beige. smoggy. glum.
numbness outside, unreality. numb it out,
like there isn't a ******* hurricane outside my window.

dear god, is this how you wanted me?
dear god, my knees are sore from the questions i've been asking.
great plans. great disasters and the minuscule molecules passing through.
is this a waste or not? answer me.
dear god, answer me.

sometimes it's hot sweat and slipping palms, slipping fingers.
and the night is dark as **** but it's just as loud.
you don't mean **** to me; i grasp and slip from you.
i feel you everywhere but i will numb you out.
like there isn't a ******* apocalypse outside my window.

dear god, these nights are endless.
and i know this is what i wanted but it turns out, god,
that the last train out isn't to home. my windows are broken.  
home is lost in nightmares and skin and dear god,
i've run out of questions.

I'm reaching for stars
With my head in the sand
And I'm swimming in currents
While I'm standing on land
If you're hearing this now
And you think I'm confused
Then it's pretty apparent
You've never been used

Tracing lines on the pavement
Of this bustling town
And he only sound that I hear
Is my soul screaming out
Now I'm stuck here in a place
Where no one else cares
So I'm launching my rocket
And blowing up in mid-air

You say you're a dreamer
At least that's what I heard
From the haze in your eyes
That's as good as your word
Please wake up, my dear
Don't be playing with knives
If you call yourself a dreamer
You'll be sleeping all your life

I can't believe I wasted the stars on you.

i grew
from flowers.
fabric-softener petals
and twirling ivy vines
and quiet dandelions
and ever-sleeping blossoms.
i grew
from oceans.
calmly tossing water
and silent white sand
and slowly-floating seashells.
i grew
from forests.
serene unmoving trees
and soundlessly-swaying grass
and sedated sunlight beams.
i grew
from skies.
silent shooting stars
and twinkling constellations
and ever-so-slightly waning moons.
i grew
from quiet movement
i grew
from sleepy sounds
i grew
from hushed breaths.

​
you are not your age,
nor the size of clothes you wear,
you are not a weight,
or the colour of your hair,
you are not your name,
or the dimples in your cheeks,
you are all the book you read,
and all the words you speak,
you are your croaky morning voice,
and the smiles you try to hide,
you’re the sweetness in your laughter,
and every tear you’ve cried,
you’re the songs you sing so loudly,
when you know you’re all alone,
you’re the places that you’ve been to,
and the one that you call home,
you’re the things you believe in,
and the people that you love,
you’re the photos in your bedroom,
and the future you dream of,
you’re made of so much beauty,
but it seems that you forgot,
when you decided that you were defined,
by all the things you’re not.

i don't need your warmth anymore
i am my own sun

You've got fangs like a dog but you're ******* for blood.