The other day
I stood atop the old psychiatric center
and stared at the sky.
I marveled at the stars
and how close I felt to them,
while I was 12 stories of abandonment
and insanity and torment high.
I couldn't help but truly feel the
stars were like scars etched into the sky.
It made me think of the patients
who were left to rot
in the building I was standing on.
They looked so alive, yet
they were already dead.

Little signs
Waiting at the airport
Watching planes fly
You and I
And this dying sunlight
I’ve been looking for trees
Forests, green
You have been chasing seas
Everything blue and never seen
So, what are we to do,
With this continental divide?
Your arrival
Is my departure time
Your goodbye
Is sunrise
On the other side
Of the world
That lays asleep
Between
You and I

these lines will be filled with rage
with hatred against myself
against the disturbing thoughts and
the fragile bones of mine

i am made of shattered glass,
of mislead paths,
a bad child in a world
full of good people

my thoughts make me
a girl of hell
my actions a demon
possessing her beloved

my mother cries in agony
as her oldest
deprives herself of food and life
but deep inside she knows
this girl deserves it all

my hair sways in the wind
and I am free
upon the hills
under the greenest of trees
no blood in my veins
no skin on my bones
just the universe
inside of me

wrists cry
hemaglobin tears
washed away by
shower steam
and daydream fears

your knife-wielding hands
clenched to the bone

my roar now dwindled
to a gentle hum

your selective deafness
my self-inflicted muteness
our perpetual daze

i wanted you to hear me so
i screamed my voice away