You like it, don't you? You hate yourself and you love that about you, you love your brooding pain, the way you can't say your own name without choking. You love to see how close to the bottom you can get before you start gasping for air, you want to swallow salt water, let it fill your lungs like tar, you want them to miss you, want them to feel guilty, want him to love your pain as much as you do, want him to appreciate how well you can destroy things, want his vision to be distorted by the scars on your wrists, want him to kiss them, want him to feed your pain. You want troubled girl meets nice boy, want him to try to save her, want her to die anyways, want him to be troubled boy to meet nice girl, want her to try to save him, want him to die anyways, want to start a cycle, want the world to resonate with the aching hollowness of your last words, want everyone to know how much you're hurting, how strong you are for still being here, for still fighting, but you're not fighting, are you? You gave up a long time ago and aside from the adrenaline attacks of optimism you are weak, but they will never know this, they cannot know this, they have to believe that you're an inspiration, that you fought as hard as you could but it wasn't enough, that you never gave in, that your dying breath was a whisper of purity, that you are a godsend, an idol to be worshipped, you are the messiah. You are so brave.

He stood at the
height of most men's
shoulders.
But grew into the
size of Goliath while
full of wheat barley and ****.

His pale blue eyes
sat peacefully in the center of the
angry blood shot pool
that had once been
as white as the
hair on his head.

He was handy with his
hands but his hands
usually held a bottle.
He drank only at certain
bars,only around those
who had come to
know his rage.

He wasn't allowed home
when ever he had become
one with the ranting
and raving lunatic
who lived deep down
in his soul.

His voice was raspy
from too many cigarettes
and too much
drunken screaming.

He had pains that called
for pills and names he
swore he would ****.

And he drank every time
like it was it his first time
or maybe the last.
Always enough to
awake that
giant within.

Six feet under,
trapped in a see through glass box,
people can see you,
they can hear you scream,
but they walk by as if they see nothing.

Six feet under,
buried beneath the pain,
hiding under the sorrow,
merciless cries come close to shattering,
the glass in which you are concealed.

Six feet under,
conceited, twisted lies,
cannot be forgotten or lost
hearts forever broken
as you see yourself

Six feet under,
the glass reflects the pain in your eyes
yet your stare is emotionless,
your heart ceases to beat
blood no longer pulses through your veins.

Six feet under,
You forget how to scream,
you lose your sense of sanity,
the glass swallows you up
lost, and always forgotten.

I no longer try to impress
I digress
Hoping that what is left unspoken highlights significance

You could be completely faithless
I'd like to think there's some reason for my presence
You're far more simple than me
I foolishly try to win your appease
Even though I know you wish I'd praise on my knees

Your ego leaves you thinking you are godly
To me you reek of voluminous folly
I am left begging for acquiescence

Communications fail and lessen to flattery and Superficiality
I want you to love me

Though I cant be sure on my own behalf I'd implore the same
It doesn't feel like a game though I expect I am being played

I wont falter to your narcissistic ways
We fight until the passion leaves us in a haze
It makes me feel alive when I oppose you and gain such a stance
It beats watching the latest televised programs

If it came down to you or I
I'd surely die to save your life
That has to mean something

With one mention
I would burst into tears
But with time and learned lessons
I realize now that I've healed
Now forgiven and accepted
The memories never forgotten
Pain has been replaced
Releasing me

You’re like blood

Running vertical down my arms

You’re like mud

Caked over hip bones 

Swirling down the drain

With gurgles and moans

Whispering the ***** sins

That put you there

As I turn clockwise

In the shower

Letting the anxiety rise

Until it bubbles over 

And washes away

Like an old lover.

Like you, down the drain.

No longer molding my body

Or kissing my mind. 

But I know you’ll be back

Because you build up

Like dirt in my skin

Or blood in my veins 

All the same, yet one of a kind.

Because there’s something

Awfully 

Romantically

Addictive

About the slight of your hand

That lovingly cuts me open.