step one.)
say goodbye to your mornings, don’t grieve them
set your alarm for an ungodly hour, no breakfast
drink your coffee, try not to taste it. the caffeine is all you need
sit at your desk and complete your tasks
attach your self worth to numbers :)
don’t think about it

step two.)
work during your lunch, eat your silly little tasks away
your worry will go away if you keep working
look. look at everyone working harder than you
compare yourself to them immediately
unrealistic expectations? standards too high?
look. look at them again. they did it. why can’t you?
compare your worst to their best :)
overthink it

step three.)
stay late. try to be the last one there. your superiors will be so impressed!
count up the number of tasks you have completed!
now count up the number of tasks you still have to do :(
eat take out for the third time this week
don’t worry about your arteries, those silly tasks are more important
ignore calls from your family, you have an important call waiting!
you’ll call them back. your phone dies -_-
stop thinking

step four.)
drive home exhausted. might be dangerous, but who else is on the road this late?
only your competition.
fret about the silly little tasks you have when you get home
you’ll take some of the tasks from your desk to try to beat the rush tomorrow
your bed is covered in tasks. your laundry is overflowing;
clothes stained with takeout and coffee you didn’t taste
complete your tasks. don’t worry about the sleep you aren’t getting.
there will be coffee in the morning :)
recount your tasks. are your numbers up yet?

don’t think for yourself :)

repeat steps 1-4 until dead.


why aren’t you happy?

i still listen to our song

i just cry at all the parts
that are supposed to make me smile

my teardrops
are hanging on strings
and you pull them
just right

i wrote so much poetry for her
because she was always busy not loving me
and i had to fill the time loving her somehow

but see the problem is
now he and i are so busy loving each other
that i don't even know how to write him a poem
and valentine's day is tomorrow

we try to stitch
each other up
with dull needles

and still gasp
in surprise
when we start to
bleed

i wanted you to be
my home
turns out i was just
your cheap motel

i only drink
the sweat
dripping from
my lips

i only move
if it makes my
muscles burn

i only breathe
if it hurts

sitting in traffic staring
at a horizon of red
thinking of her unintentionally

i dyed my hair again
taking comfort in being able to look different
looking different than when i fell for people that were just shells
of bad decisions and ****
people that gave me goosebumps because they were so cold
but i used to mistake the chills for butterflies

i've been worried about repeating myself
cycling around my bad habits
like i'm on a ferris wheel that doubles as a perpetual motion machine
but i haven't texted her in a few weeks so
that must be a good sign
still

i listen the playlists i made when i was so busy over thinking i didn't have time to do my fvcking laundry
i wore her sweater for days on end and i hummed those songs under my breath
and now the melodies just remind me of how starving i was
laying in the bed of nails i made for myself
and they remind me of her. always her. and how she never gave a **** about me, but somehow taught me to give a **** about myself.
these stupid, beautiful songs remind me of how much i pretend to hate her. and they make me want to write poems about the idea of her again
even though i swore i wouldn't. on several occasions.
and so this poem isn't about her, or the idea of her, or the stupid playlists i was obsessed with when i called her mine

this one is about the horizon of red
as i sit stuck in traffic, staring
blurring my vision on purpose
as the crimson lights move at the speed of my slowing heart
trying. trying. trying.
trying to forget about her, as i think of her unintentionally.
trying to live in a world where people don't always mean the 'i love you's that so carelessly drip from their open mouths.
trying to care about those people anyway and pretend that i don't.
trying to love.
trying to love myself.
trying to write more poems in the first person as a form of self care.
trying to figure out if that counts.

trying to not be so fvcking lonly all the time.

you said
'i love you'

before you said
'i trust you'

i'll always need constant reminders
because i feel like i am one

i need you to remind me that the world is beautiful
because i feel like a reminder of all the oil spills

i need you to remind me that love is kind
because i feel like a reminder of every time i broke my own heart

i need you to remind me that i'm human
because i feel like a reminder that monsters do exist

and mostly, i need you to remind me that you love me
because i feel like a reminder of all the reasons you shouldn't

i'll always need constant reminders
because i feel like i am one

the way you love
says a lot about you

but the way you break
says a lot about where you came from

i exhale smoke
into the sky
painting the clouds
a little greyer

not to be like the "cool kids"
not even to get high

i just want my lungs
to be as broken
as my heart feels

my skin is finally finished peeling
i swept up the old layer into the dustbin
and now i get to be grown (past tense)

i'll keep growing and i'll have to shed another layer of me
but the molting is over
i can feel the winter sun on my lips

it feels like salt

i peer through
this noise
brush the fog
of this sound
away with my
fingertips

looking for you

i still don't see you
the distance
between us
is blocking my
view

humans
are built
to
self destruct

some just
hit the
button

you text me when you get home
to tell me that you got there safely
and i smile wide
but i wonder

how can you be home
when you just left me

my stomach has become an hourglass
digesting the sandy grains of time we have before you leave me
i can count the days on my fingers now

but you still whisper sweet forevers in my ear
you still kiss me like we have all the moments in the world
you still hold me like you don't have to let go

and i have to remind myself
that i don't get to keep you in my pockets
that you signed a contract with your future
and my name isn't on it

i have to whisper the bitter "nows" when you're not around
and hold myself together when you let go

you are the
brightest
shade of black
that i have ever
seen

my lips are dry
and cracked
not forming the words
i want them to

nothing but silence
on my tongue
mocking the screams
howling in my
skull

my shoes
are only size seven and a half
so my footprints
are quite small
but i leave them places
where giants have walked

i am a grenade
that keeps
apologizing
for
blowing up

i'm falling porcelain:
okay for now.

if i look at the sky
at just the right moment
i can picture your eyes

and i remember
if only for that moment
that we're under
the same sky

i haven't watched les miserables recently
maybe that means i'm happy

or maybe i'm just tired

i want someone to notice the way i laugh at the wrong parts of movies
and know what weird thought i had about the scene
to hold my hand and kiss my dimple and write about how witty i am
we can joke about it every time we rewatch it

i want someone to read to me under a fading sky in the wintertime
as our breath curls around our throats and it's hard to keep their voice steady
but the words are pretty, and so are their fingers as they wrap around my hair
sylvia plath for the darker days,
robert frost when the sun starts peeking through

i want someone who will dye my hair in shades of pink and green
our noses curling at the scent of the overwhelming bleach
laughing hysterically as we get high on the fumes and try to be quiet when we hear my mom's footsteps outside the bathroom
i'll cut their bangs choppy to match

i want someone who will sing duets with me to a blown out car stereo
as we drive aimlessly through the nights of this ghost-town-to-be
i'll steal the aux cord more than once, and mess with the windows like a kid
but they'll tolerate it because they like the wind
almost as much as they like me

i want someone to dance with me in the rain like we're in a bad romance novel
and enjoy it anyway because it smells like promises (and i keep those)
we can waltz badly and laugh until it hurts to laugh, and then we'll just sway
i'll splash them with puddles and they'll splash back harder
and we can ditch our clothes and get hypothermia together

maybe one day i'll want them enough to have them

but for now i'll watch movies by myself and still laugh at all the wrong parts, knowing that i'm weirdly clever

i'll read poetry in my own voice under the grey sky cut open by leafless branches, because it's pretty

i'll dye my own hair and cut my own choppy bangs and i'll feel untouchable

i'll scream 'bohemian rhapsody' by myself driving down main street in the middle of the night

and i'll just wait for it to rain so i can catch in my mouth and pretend it was a kiss from the sky

i don't feel very poetic

and i never thought the ceiling i stare at each night
was worth a poem
because i'm sure you'd rather hear about the star splattered sky
with it's infinite universes that envelop beating hearts
and tear things apart just to make them novelties once more

but the white stucco above my head has constellations of it's own
that have kept every secret i ever told
on nights that i'd rather cut off my hands than write a
single godforsaken word

maybe the ceiling is it's own kind of sky
decorated with daydreams the clouds could never carry
it's not poetic by the usual definitions

but neither am i

i'm so tired.

but it's that kind of tired
that is spent
in a warm orange haze
like candlelight

and i can't help but remember
our late night messages
the smile refuses
to be wiped off my face

throwing away
all my meaningless
words

the branches
broke open the sky
and made it
bleed

i lay my head on
your shoulder,
looking at that
bleeding sky
with you

watching
as the blood was
washed away
by a sea of sparkling blue

and i thought to myself:
maybe we can
wash away
our scars
with stardust,
too

i lick the stars
from your open lips
and a supernova
explodes on my tongue

as beautiful as it is
it shatters my taste buds
until i can drink
nothing but the sound of
your voice
sliding into my mouth

my roots are growing in ashy
i can't stop looking at my acne scars

i taste everything good in me
and lick the sin off my fingers

but no one told me that loving myself
would be this exhausting

sometimes you gotta bleed to know
that you're alive and have a soul
but it takes someone to come around
to show you how

she's the tear in my heart
i'm alive
she's the tear in my heart
i'm on fire
she's the tear in my heart
take me higher
than i've ever been

the songs on the radio are okay
but my taste in music is your face
and it takes a song to come around
to show you how

she's the tear in my heart
i'm alive
she's the tear in my heart
i'm on fire
she's the tear in my heart
take me higher
than i've ever been
than i've ever been
than i've ever been
than i've ever been

you fell asleep in my car i drove the whole time
but that's okay i'll just avoid the holes so you sleep fine
i'm driving here i sit
cursing my government
for not using my taxes to fill holes with more cement
you fell asleep in my car i drove the whole time
but that's okay i'll just avoid the holes so you sleep fine
i'm driving here i sit
cursing my government
for not using my taxes to fill holes with more cement
sometimes you gotta bleed to know
that you're alive and have a soul
but it takes someone to come around
to show you how

she's the tear in my heart
i'm alive
she's the tear in my heart
i'm on fire
she's the tear in my heart
take me higher
than i've ever been

my heart is my armor
she's the tear in my heart
she's a carver
she's a butcher with a smile
cut me farther
than i've ever been
than i've ever been
than i've ever been
than i've ever been

my heart is my armor
she's the tear in my heart
she's a carver
she's a butcher with a smile
cut me farther
than i've ever been

not being able to call you

when i get off work
when my favorite character dies (again)
when i buy myself lunch for one
when i can't sleep

it's devastating, it makes me rot

i feel like i drank too much coffee.
just a side effect of my heart strings pulling
trying to find you, even though i was the one who dropped you off
at the airport.

i got home feeling cracked open
no coffee spilled out
just 'i miss you's and lint

you left a t-shirt for me. i wanted something to smell like you.
i fear i will never wash it again

my smiles have been glowing and holding in my *****
so i wanted to read a pretty little sonnet
gasping and choking on laughter mottled by blood
the words come in tears, the poems in a flood
it's been ages since i cried, i was doing so well
but every sad poem brought back my screams of hell

my demons didn't go away, i just painted them gold
and i'd be fooling myself saying i had a hand to hold
life is a joke, who gives a ****?
it's just a mix of bad timing and luck
so i kept laughing and choking and holding my own hand
remembering some song from my new old favorite band

telling me love is a labor and to slave 'till the end
swinging life away with scars and a friend
so i didn't have to read a happy poem today
i just had to write one and send it your way
so smile with me, break open your face
'cause life is just a vat marked toxic waste

we lit up
on the flame of one another's company
the smoke doused us in laughter
and the sky
was big enough,
just for a little while

we were infinite:
more terrified of blinking
than being too small

chewing on black holes
just to pass the time

leaving a fingerprint
with no identity attached

but the black holes got sour
and we spit them out
with the stray embers
caught on our bitter tongues

we buried the cigarettes in the dirt,
footprints their only grave marker

i want to read you the poems i wrote you
so you can hear them in my voice
as it cracks in all the places you broke me
and blooms in all the places you loved

i want your head to rest on my shoulder
so you know where you are welcome
and your hand to be in mine
so you know where you are wanted

i want to read them in your room
so we can be in the place i fell in love with you
and i want the room to be filled with your thoughts
so you know how

***** laundry
under aching feet
at 2am
with seven
eight
twelve
unread messages
breaking the silence

empty stomach
but clean teeth
and so many empty pages
in notebooks
scattered in between
used tea bags
and dry rose petals

i add my socks to the mess
and close my eyes
trying to remember
what breathing feels like

rolling on the floor
screaming the lyrics to 'funkytown'
feeling crossfaded
when i've been sober for months

the sun is warm and the light is liquid gold
and we can't breathe, laughing so hard
but this is the freshest air i've tasted in a long time

i wish i could write
like i think

i decided
not to write
a poem
on mother's day

maybe next year

my knit sweater holds tears in
i fantasize about the old man that might have worn it
he used to smoke, i think

i dream about his mahogany pipe
with it's european engravings

in another life i might have cried at his funeral
but i just have his sweater

and i promise to remember him

i told you my mom said no before i even asked her
though it wasn't because i didn't want to go
i just knew asking wouldn't change a **** thing
and my chest can't take the water today

black lipstick in my room
i wear it for the mirror and i hope she likes it
i don't know how to wear eyeliner
but i still wish you could see how it brings out the sin in my eyes
and my eyes wish they could see your sins tonight

i'll read about them in grey conversations
as your contact photo smiles at me
that smile is too small to be my whole world
but i'm afraid if i lose it, the earth might stop turning

sometimes the earth feels no bigger than my bedroom
and sometimes i can hear every mile outside my window
like the booming music of a party i wasn't invited to

my walls are as bare as my journal
since my mom broke in and saw her worst fears in ink
i don't have any pictures of you because they would be stolen
along with the things i forced myself to stop caring about
as a self defence mechanism

i can't love you in this house
but i can't leave
and when i do the memories will cling to me
like cobwebs in a place that hasn't been loved for too long

i wonder if i'll ever be able to shake these thoughts from my head

i felt
okay.

and you cannot take that
from me anymore.

i had a good
day.

and that wasn't dictated
by anything of yours.

carbon and gasoline
drowning the world in black

that's okay, i was in the mood for a swim anyway

when i cradle your face in my dreams
tears slip over my knuckles
we both feel the miles between us like knives
playing on our veins like harp strings

but i wake up to haze and ***** laundry
no missed calls from you
besides, you told me the last time you cried
was when you finished that anime we don't talk about, anymore
so i keep my weeping between me and the moon
as i miss you harder than i clench my jaw at night

i wake up with my teeth aching
almost as much as my chest