I'm not sorry.
I'm not sorry that your heart beats to drums of bells or whatever it is that isn't mine.
That I've grown out of the little pocket in your jeans that you put me in, thinking I was too small to get out, and that I may not be the person you want so desperately anymore.
That I have offended you by finally letting myself be me.
That the wind beats on you windows at night and makes you wish we could go back to who we used to me, entwined so wholeheartedly, loved as if we were in love.
I can't be sorry.
I'm not sorry.
I never will be.

Yeah its certain I'm an addict
And I think I'm going crazy
But my head is spinning circles
At the thought of you my baby

Can you hear it, my heart beating
As you circumvent your feelings
Could it be true
That you feel the way I do?

Yeah I'm reeling and unbending
At the the thought of you stuck mending
All the broken parts of me
The ones that I keep sending away
just so you'll stay

And I'm certain you are cautious
And you should be at the fact
That our Gone With The Wind romance
Is romancing too fast
My only suggestion
Is the closed eyed progression of our love
don't be scared just
Jump.

I lay my head down on your empty lap,
And fall right through the air
My wings don’t sprout just like they should
All I see is red
Your name a faint memory in the spring wind
As autumn comes I’ve nearly forgotten,
but remembered well enough to have it stuck on my tongue
just on the tip, just enough to itch and scratch and bite and kick
just enough to be unforgettable

The light shines in the darkness,
The winter comes in spring,
My love dies in daylight,
My love dies not at all

An empty grave is calling invisible
Cat calling and begging to drag the forgotten into bed
But another hand pulls towards the heavens
A hand that isn’t even trying, isn’t even seeing, only just barely there
Just enough to be unforgettable

Tomorrow, tomorrow is a new day
But not for illusions,
Hades is crooning a siren song
But ears are filled with wax for my fair Penelope I must return
Even if she’s dead and gone and alive and well and doesn’t want me

Deeper than the ocean,
Farther than the sea,
On your boat you’ve moved on,
And I on the opposite shore will be,
Crying out my love’s name, the one that I’ve forgotten,
Begging for their sweet return,
Its just enough to be unforgettable.

Torn between the summer and the fall,
Between body and soul
The river flows with ease and sway
While I flow the other way
But my flow is uneasy and falling apart,
Self inflicted enmity pouring from my heart
Is this river the one of life
Or death
For me

Broken chairs and broken windows
Losing all stability and all avenues of escape
Trapped in this empty room with river in my eyes
Confused
Whispered nothings in rooms that can never be spoken of
Screamed everythings that I dare not speak of
To you
Dancing around a maze
Jovial topiaries laugh at my plight
Fish in the river smile at my pain
Dragging me down until I’m drowning in the stream

I come up for air, and breathe a soft breath again
Saved from the flood and the heat and the pain
Not quite torn, but changed
And I stumble off into the spring

Bipolar.

The toxic word flickers across the blue screen, taunting my tears into reckoning. Everything makes sense now. Now I know each time my feelings crash there is no reason, no problem, no answer. Just disorder. My disorder. It’s swirling in my veins, intoxicating me like a drug, and sometimes I like it.

Each manic moment is incomprehensible perfection, with I as the center of its universe. The world is mine to own, the Gods mine to control. Every movement is unstoppable, the energy seeping out of my very pores. Words come easily; all I am is a flowing expression of the beauty within. Nothing is above me, all are below. I am flawless. Why can’t everyone be so perfect?

Yet each depressed crash sends me spiraling into a darkness I have never known. My nails become bitten, my hair a tangled mess. Every turn I find myself nothing but alone, no one around to notice or care or even see. They are better, everything’s better, as long as it’s without me.

I am a cyclical monster, luring in my prey before dragging it into the pits of my own personal hell. Every shattered shard refracts inviting light, yet they cut deep and only capture people in a lethal web. I am breakable, unfixable. Every shade of me I thought I understood is now a vague gray. Is this smile mine? Are these tears real? Am I feeling pain or is it just the chemicals and synapses dancing haphazardly in my brain, concocting this uncontrollable body that I do not know?

I cannot hinder my blood from screaming for help, but my heart cannot tell what my lips refuse to speak. Lips lie when I try to hide, the habitual sin I can never break. People must be punished for their sins. Locked within my prison, kept without my food, begging to be unchained yet pleading to cement my sentence. A prisoner cannot **** when they are dead.

He asks to help, but he is ignorant to the truth. My arms pull him close while my heart shoves him far away, dooming my flicker of a fantastical romance before it begins. It shoves them all away. The choice is shove or break. No one deserves this, the swirling vortex of uncertainty, depression, mania, unknown. How could I break them too? The only paths before me are to lose them or hurt them. Losing them would **** me; hurting them would **** me. My heart will be murdered either way. How inevitable it is for me to be dead.

This disorder is not terminal, yet its killing me quietly, so slowly, and forcing me to feel alone in even the most crowded room. To become an alien in my own world. They want to save me, but they don’t understand, she doesn’t understand, I am too afraid to understand. It won’t be spoken. Only on paper can my iron heart ease, only alone can I say what I know is real.

Bipolar.

Silver climbing up my arm,
Sharp and twisted brings me joy,
Twisted how it is so wrong,
Twisted how my heart races like a bullet through my head
Racing, racing, always racing
Blood calms me down, brings me peace when I’m alone
The ****** lullaby I sing in my head, is scorned upon by all I love
Funny how if it didn’t leave scars nothing could stop me from playing my ****** lullaby all night long
My fingers such masters at the keys, playing crimson notes on my skin and rectifying memories of days gone by
This is my music, my song, and I lose it because of them
They cause my pain, and I try to cushion it with my lullaby
But they don’t let me
Its funny how it hurts so good,
How one song can lead to so much trouble,
And its funnier how they see me cry,
And do nothing,
But one little cut and the fear gets turned on,
So I’ll keep on singing my ****** lullaby, in secrets small and invisible,
To one day feel joy again and for once feel at peace.

Bones break
Bones melt under my touch
Monster inside me
Monster devouring me
Who am I?
The silver blade lays a heavy hand on my throat
but its all for good measure
It slides and it slicks in pools of cold blood
Guess I'm dead better

What a fickle thing
Pull me on the other side
Save me from the things I want
Such a pretty way to go

I miss him.

Never did I thought the words would reach my lips, nor the feeling touch my fingertips, but now they repeat on record, I miss him, I miss him, more than I can know, for my heart meets my brain in nowhere at all.

I miss him.

His smile, his hair, the way he looked my way, the way he let me be me even if it hurt him.

But I can wait. Things will work out, I know it. He still looks at me like he wants me. I can swear it. I may be crazy but maybe he’s ok with crazy. Maybe he’s afraid of me, but I’m afraid of me too. We can cower together and hold each other’s arms and promise it will get better. It has to get better.

Maybe he does fear me. Maybe he sees demons in my eyes and bad memories on my fingers and doesn’t want to see me even though he does. Maybe he doesn’t want the horror in his heart once more.

   But that maybe. Maybes are what I live for, each lasting breath, every never-ending second, they all rely on maybes.

   The future relies on my trust in that maybe.

    He relies of my trust.  

  In the end of it all, he relies on me.

  I miss him.

The sky smiles at me and I wonder why is something so cheerful so blue?
Why do fish not grin?
Why does pain exist?
Why do people believe in a God?
Why is that God so distant to me?
Why am I always alone?
Why?
And I keep on smiling at the sky, and forget.

Catch me in the rye,
Save me from myself,
Hold me all night long,
Dare me to love thyself,
Teach the torches to burn,
Teach my heart to love,
Hold its shattered pieces inside your arms.

Save me from my horror,
Caress my wrists so soft,
Praise these scars for making,
The person that you love,
Bring my tears to reckon,
Reconcile my fears,
Fight the monsters with me,
Just don't let me go dear.

Mind racing, heart stops pacing, cannot tell my toes from my fingers.

Its just a dance, a high price dance, where my body disconnects from my racing head.

Palms aching, legs shaking, my body cannot handle my mind.

Cannot, cannot the words pound in my head with an ever resounding Thwop that murders my cells all night.

Help, I cry, I want to scream but words can’t touch my mouth.

Acid mouth that poisons lips and drops them dead right here.

Poison, poison in my veins begging for some nourishment from the silence.

Beautiful is nothing that I say when I look in the mirror to see another’s face, missing my own from memories of heartless futures of nevermore.

Poe knew words that I do not know, wrote them more eloquently than this thirsty heart can ever wish to obtain

I wish I may I wish I might end this heartlessness tonight to burn my soul into  deadly resurrection.

Stop my toes from twitching stop this heart from beating stop my soul from  combusting in the hot sunlight juxtaposed with its secret darkness.

Help.

All I want is help.

Stop.

All I want is for it to stop, for the pain of a thousand years to jump off my shoulders and find a new host to **** dry.

Let me be new, renew my body and heal it from this wicked curse, and save me from killing myself from the inside out.

The malignant light blinds me into a drunken haze, intoxicating my toes until my body begins to dance, thoughtlessly

  Eyes closed, arms open, godly, peaceful, strong

Why doesn't everyone raise their arms to the grateful sky and soak in the golden bath of golden sun, to feel for once in their lives golden

Why do I seem alone in my gentle ****** curve while they seem bland and gray, straight lined lips across their face, a line of soldiers, unforgiving and unbreakable.

Why do I only feel joy?

  Thoughts shoot through me like tommy gun bullets through the streets of old Chicago, covered in hot blood, hot money, and hot nights. Drugs in my veins, matches in my pockets, all eyes on me and my mafia heart raising a pistol to my brain and conquering its control.

  Baby I like it, the way I move through the floor, seeing the monsters that weren’t there before, descending into maniacal darkness unknown, smiling while I’m screaming, never alone

  Sunshine, you are mine, my arms coddle you close, the sunshine endlessly streaming through my fingertips, a buzzing crescendo of ecstasy. You are all mine. This perfect heart contained in the cavity of this body overbeats, skipping steps, tumbling forward, 800 miles per hour, too fast to be caught by the blue-sheilded men who wish to stop it. Stop this heart and stop the world, for it is its red hot core.

  Pompous, conceited, it paints itself across my soul, yet I cannot contain what my emotions do, a little  twisted, a little crazy, a little unwell.

  And then I crash again.

Eyes haunt me in the dark of the night.

Eyes I want, eyes that watch me in the waking hours and eyes endlessly open to the idea of a silly theory entitled me.

Eyes that sparkle when they see my face, wanted and held once more, eyes so new yet eyes I feel I've tied around my heart for a thousand years.

Poetic words lead my lips astray, darkening the colors of a blossoming attraction into the gray undertones of possible love, fantasizing too much and trying too little.

Lips I know he looks and at wonders how they’d feel painted across his soul, my warm touch against his and a dance I have long forgotten strewn across the bedroom.

   Fingers grasp at mine from all directions, yet his are the ones I find in the fray.

I hold tight, wanting so badly for the future, savoring so heavenly the present.

Disjoint, we are so new, but the possibilities of a condescending maybe are too strong for once for me to dismiss.

Maybe. Maybe is the only word I need to live off, a maybe for him, for his eyes, for his lips, for his fingers entwined with mine.

  All I need is maybe for my heart to fly.

Smile in the darkest hour, where the weeping willows cry their song,
while the blood drains from my face, while the funeral procession marches on.
Smile when I'm dead and tired, sleeping in my wooden home,
remembering these forlorn years, when I lay in your arms.
Smile as I die tonight, weep no more my dear, for summer delight is drawing close,
death becomes nothing to fear.
Smile when I close my eyes, a final whisper goodbye.
Smile when you dry your tears, for forever I will be near.
Smile.

Paper, thin and fragile, like my lips against yours,
I forgot how to articulate the poems of my fingertips when you kissed me.
Regret the words I didn't say, too shocked, too scared,
to realize the gravity of the sky when you are in it.
I should have whispered kiss me again.