and i try, i try
to take in the aesthetic of life,
but i cannot see past the
parts tainted by the
filthy hands of society.

These violent desires,
are what i'm trying to hide.
I dream of nothing else,
but being by your side.

These violent desires,
are what kills me inside,
as my thoughts race and eventually
come back to nothing but,
the feel of your body,
flush against mine.

These desires, violent
oh so toxic like the taste
of your lips and the feel
of your fingers,
brushing, tracing
the skin down my sides.

Leaving me with the feeling of a fragile spine

fragile,
Easily broken.

like my heart,
when you left and
said
that you didn't
love me
anymore.

there is beauty in a storm
(i promise to keep you warm).
darling, there is beauty in death
what are you so scared of ?

you loved in paragraphs.
your lips, endless words,
the touch of your fingers; metaphors.
you loved me in ways a poet
desires.
your affection ran across the pages of my body
and i loved you to the point of oblivion.

with no direction or purpose,
we find ourselves
wallowing in pools of
self-pity.
we find ourselves longing
for those who whisper spurious words of affection.
after all it has always been better to have someone to hold
on those cold nights
than
being alone.

and i wonder when they'll realise
that there is a reason why
i am always three threads shy
from falling apart.

it starts in the winter,
with the darkness that swirls
in my head.
and its all a blur,
and i am nothing but a mess,
lying on the floor amongst the
shattered glass
of your tears.

if you search through the rubble,
you'll still find fragments of me
tainted by thoughts of you.

and i remember
how your eyes were so much
like stars;
all burnt out hope,
and dead-beat dreams.

its just
                            a matter of time
                                  before you        
                                      abandon me,
                                           too.

so tell me again
how this ends,
is it with your knife through my chest
or your gun to my head ?

i try to block out the noise
with more noise,
and yet I am still drowning in it all.
i am sinking, and god,
somebody please help me
(i am finally reaching, and still there is no one grasping my wrist and pulling me out)
i am ready to be told that
i am  w o r t h y
of so much more
than the sadness that wraps it's claws
around the base of my neck, tugging.
dragging me down, down, down
“ i am ready ”
the words are uttered into the dark of my room when the thoughts turn ****** and red.
“ i am ready ”
and my heart beats a violent rhythm to these words and
i am ready, so please, if You are out there,
send help.

I AM READY ( to be more ).

and the question is:
why do i find myself
constantly in this pit of swirling darkness,
with only thoughts of you
consuming my mind ?

and the answer is:
you're an all-consuming thing,
and that i wouldn't change any of it.
from the first time your fingers brushed
my skin,
to
the moment you left.

teeth sunk into the flesh
of a lover,
white dress, pure.

crimson, like roses,
like blood
both intoxicating;
sweet, sickly

eyes blazing,
like fire.
raging with hatred
that fills the heart of
a broken down soul

the promises that were made,
abandoned, like the lover
you left at the alter  

                                                        ­      ( “i do” , as love spews,                                                     with blood
                                                           ­           out of the wounds
                                                          ­    that your hands claw at)

it is those thoughts of you
that remain,  
they plague me to
the point of insanity;
still, i want nothing but    
to hear your voice and feel
your body close to mine.

you,
are my downfall.

and it gets harder to breathe when the only thing keeping                                                            
me alive is an hallucination of
your fingertips that trace patterns
down my spine
when i awake to find coldness
by my side, embracing me
with its trendils that should have been your
arms. so i heave a sigh as i
try to live with dead weight limbs that
drag me down, and it gets
harder when i search the crowds
for your face, knowing that i'd never
catch the slightest glimpse of my safe haven again
and i try (unsuccessfully) to soothe the stinging
wound of knowing that you left
without saying goodbye.

and really, love is the absolute worst, is it not ?

there are things inside
that i'm trying to ****,
but my bare hands
aren't enough to push
down the things I'm trying to forget
into the river of the past,
that leads into the ocean

so I find myself at the shore
with these memories as
they wash over me,
in high tides
and i want only you
to hold my hand,
and caress me from
this panic
and make me believe that
somehow everything
will be
okay.

I wish that I could
purge you from
my mind.

and my words are not bound by
rhymes and other silly little things,
they are my thoughts,
raw
and scrambled.
they are my wounds that
i pick at with every word,
but they are my wounds that
heal with every sentence
the ink of my pen spits.

your eyes tell me things
your mouth cannot,
they utter silent stories
to me
when I hold you close,
our face mere inches apart.

and even through all this haunting
I still find myself falling,
so fast,
and I think I've fallen
in love with you
and there's no stopping
(I don't want to)
and I don't need to
because I only need you,
flush against me.

maybe if i hold my breath for a little while longer
everything would start to fade and
my vision would start with a tinge of darkness
to black out your face as
you spit out your words of hatred
that must taste so foul falling from your lips
but don't worry, darling, i know you're afraid of showing kindness
so i'll turn them into words of affection
(and maybe all i wanted was to feel worthy of
something other than the sadness that had started to
gnaw its way inside my mind to the point of contentment)

i crave you,
and i haven't the slightest of clue why.
i just do, and its pathetic.
(i'm pathetic; they were right)
i find myself constantly with these letters
pouring out, forming words,
forming sentences, forming paragraphs
about you, and i know that
you'd not spare me a second glance
if our paths were to cross again.
yet i find that
everything about you, intoxicating
from the ghost smile on your lips to the
humourless laugh that resonates so clearly,
and i find that I love you, so i'll say it one last time
and in return i'll hear yours, barely there;
your soft, petal I love you, too.
(do you really mean it?)
maybe we're just not built to last.
[And our time's up so I'll leave, and I hope
that I'll be able to forgive myself for letting you go.]

and suddenly my throat runs
dry and
my hands still their typing,
the mask finally falls.

and underneath it all i am just
    m e .
the girl who forgets words
and doesn't finish her sentences,
the girl who finds catharsis in
words of sadness and the
sound of glass shattering .

i am just me, the girl who bleeds
in ink and cries with words.
the brave girl who never sheds tears
but silently dies inside,
because she understands that
all of this means nothing.

underneath it all
I am
just
bones.

nothing   m o r e ,
nothing   l e s s.