you
are turpentine
when the world gets too thick
your eyes are oil paint
that watch me
smile
watch me cry
watch me laugh
and die
you are the sacrifices
made for me
you are what i chose
to make me happy
you've made a home
inside my lungs
and i drink in your scent
every square inch
you don't like breakfast very much
but you make me eggs over easy
and you like the way i rub together my
feet when i'm asleep;
you said that way you'll always know
it's me.
you don't like yourself very much
and that's why i wrote this poem
because i know these things-
your a garden of different seeds
i'll love the way you grow forever
and i know you'd never stop
loving me

My love wasnt good enough
and yours was nothing but a bluff
I gave my all just to be snuffed
by hands I gave my heart and trust
To think that it was only lust
leaves me in a state of disgust
Wasted time I cant retract
to repair what I have lacked
Determining fiction from fact
in a past I can not have back
How silly of me to believe
and not see that I was deceived
Although it comes as a relief
that Im free from this fallacy
I wanted so much more from her
than just yet another number
No longer will I be concerned
with waiting for another turn
I hope one day you feel the burn
of giving such without return

I never suspected I had OCD
Until I replayed your voicemail
On the answering machine
A total of twelve times
Every evening
Just to hear your voice again
Or until I opened your dresser drawer
Thirty times
Before I went to bed
Just so I could smell
Your leftover scent
Wafting into the air
Or until I rearranged my shoes
In the closet four times
Before I left the house
Because you hated tripping over them
On your way out
But I knew I didn't have OCD
When I finally locked the door
And turned off the light
And made the bed on your side
For the very last time.

There is a part of the forest in which nobody goes
where butterflies tremble and Baneberry grows.
In this part of the forest where no mortals tread
the soil is rich with the flesh of the dead.

They come in the night
The monsters
Tear down the walls
You built
Destroy
They don't care that you're nice
Or you get all A*s
Or you have friends
Or that you love them
They hurt them anyway
Because your own problems
Are rarely just your own
And that's the worst part