Sensual entrapment,
Heart, mind, soul, unifying in
Emotional *******.

I'm doing the best I can but I can't do this anymore, I keep crying in my sleep, keep having nightmares. I thought I saw a ghost yesterday until I realized I was looking in the ******* mirror, I'm haunting my own house, possessing my own body, I'm ******* the life out of myself. I tied a noose around my finger just to prove that I could do it, I keep a razor in my purse just to prove that I could do it, to prove to myself that I'm strong enough to not do it, but they keep whispering my name. The bottle of mouthwash with 5% alcohol keeps screaming at me and I can't use it anymore, it leaves that taste in my mouth, tastes like hangover and relapse and accidents, and they're all teasing me with promises of making it all just stop and God it sounds so sweet, sounds so sweet, I know it's not.

Jesus Christ I swear I'm trying it's just not working, everything keeps falling through, keeps slipping through, and maybe I'm not doing this right, maybe I'm just making mistakes, but I don't even know where to start, I'm trying to take it one step at a time but everything happens all at once and I'm not fast enough, I'm not strong enough to carry on like this, my feet are tired and I don't care enough to try any harder, I'm giving up, I'm sorry

I made love
to an email,
inside my
mind's
sugar shop.
I guess
our blood is
detailed;
I don't feel
until you're
shocked.

You say the things
I moan,
and I wear the things
you swear,
like, "I'd still see you,
even if you were
to disappear."

You kiss me before
I tell you that you're
silver-spoon-
melted-heart,
reassuring me
that you're ****** up,
and to just push
to watch you
fall apart.

We shake
because it's what
we forgive the most.
So, let's bite our tongues
and float north.

clear thumbtacks hold the
few blades of grass
collected from the meadows
of the Magnificent Days.
no baby blanket can wrap up
these times;
no perfume from the 80's
mask such greatness.
driving home at 8:56
in february feels like four-thirteen a.m.
while it's raining
(how strange)
we don't feel like talking,
we don't feel like junk food
but scratchy blankets to tuck
in the snow-less mountains
this time of year.
something has to cover them,
because our society doesn't approve
of ******
or happiness, really
for our smoke detectors
are dead and the mirrors are stained
the rugs are frayed
and our poetry *****.
our candles smell like grandmothers
but that future for us isn't so
far away.
we focus on the water that will burst
past the controlled walls
in a few months;
that's so close (too close) to tell
because we are told
we won't end up being what we thought
we'd wanted at sixteen.
our christmas lights are getting dull
and we don't strive to make people jealous
anymore.
we just sulk on the loss
of the Magnificent Days,
bright and kind.

Hi, I'm sorry for texting you so late it's just that everything feels like it's falling apart and I can't even recognize myself anymore sometimes it feels like I'm not even the one living my life I'm just watching it like a movie I'm just going through the motions and I don't know who to talk to anymore because I just keep making more problems but I need help I need someone to hold me and tell me it's okay I don't know how to make it through this on my own please just come save me