my life so far
it has been spent as a codependant child

I have never been satisfied without the approval
of a parent, a friend, a lover or a foe

I have been somewhat unable to do anything
for myself, by myself

but that is okay
I am 16 years, 1 month, and 5 days old

I have learnt now
     my happiness does not depend on anybody but myself
     I will not allow myself to feel sad over things that will not matter in
     -24 hours
     -7 days
     -4 weeks
     -a year
     I seek to satisfy nobody but myself, those that I love and those that are important
     I am and will always be the primary source of my joy
I was born alone, I will die alone
that is not sad
that is the truth
after everything, I will have nobody but myself
and that is okay

In between your ribs grow a garden of flora
Flowers bloom an sunlight filters through the bone
Every happy thought centers itself in your chest
And vines cage your heart
They cradle it and nurture it
Raising it up
So let's break that nasty habit, shall we?
Let's kick it to the curb
Pour poison all over those blooming flowers
Let the buds shrivel up and die
Nightmares swim through your marrow
Ingrained in your soul
And the sun sets in a rip roaring fire across your beautiful bony sternum
Darkness settles upon your heart
Cold air seeps through the skin
Your heart is frozen now
It's cracked in two
Your habit is gone along with the past and any emotion you've ever had
I wouldn't be worried or ashamed because
Because numb is better then feeling anything.

She looks at me
Eyes narrowed
Head tipped sideways
Lip curled
And snarls at me in a way
that manages to sound so condescending
that  If I was a fool
(a different one then I already am)
I could mistake it for concern
"I really don't like the person you're becoming"
I nod my head so fast it practically rolls off its base of my neck
so sarcastic
I smile so wide That my lips crack
and my teeth bulge from my mouth
so mean
and flip her off in the best way I know how
With words and a ******* to match
she doesn't even care anymore
And the worst thing is I don't.




"I really  don't like the person  you're becoming"



"me either"

An empty room answers me.

"I knew this girl once,
she had long hair, so long it whispered tiny kisses along her hips and waist
she had the oddest bluest eyes i'd ever seen, the color of the sky right before it gets completely dark
her thick, long eyelashes framed those eyes, and freckles formed constellations across her cheeks
i could almost draw the big dipper and Orion's belt on her milky white face.
She didn't know i existed but i admired her from afar. I could tell she was educated- She always had some form of poetry in her hand. But of all the things i could have noticed about her i noticed her bookmarks. She would lose them all the time, i would see her chasing after the scraps of paper as they flew through the wind down the street. She'd stick anything in between those pages, wrappers of all sorts, leaves, pennies, shoelaces, once i even saw a page ripped from a different book. It became my favorite game to guess what the next bookmark would be.  After awhile she stopped chasing the various bookmarks across the city and she cut all that long hair off, then awhile after that she started using unoriginal, uninspired plain old bookmarks.Then even awhile that she stopped bringing books altogether, until one day she didn't show up. Nobody knew that beautiful, mysterious, bookmark making girl was locked up inside her own mind. Nobody knew she hated her long hair and her freckles and even those baby blues. Nobody knew that she couldn't stand to live in her skin anymore so much that she swallowed a couple pills one night to ease away the pain. Even worse was she didn't know i watched her for so long and thought she was the most interesting human being i'd ever encountered. That girl committed suicide because she hated herself learn from her mistake, my mistake, everyone who ever noticed her bookmarks mistake, and don't do this, don't off yourself with a .45 before you've even had a chance to live" he's desperate now  
"please please you don't have to do this" he sputters

I answer simply " I never was much of a bookmark girl, i always dog-eared my pages"

*bang

your hair runs through her fingers as soft as silk
your body fits with hers like two pieces of a puzzle
but I am not her
you do not love me
and however long I spend
wishing for a small part of your being
to belong to me
I know now
it will never be

I have waited for so long for you to see me
in the way that I see you
because for 459 days (and counting)
you are what is always upon my mind

I put you high
on a pedestal and no matter how hard I try
you will not come down
you will not be replaced
you are prominent in my mind
you are strong and you are fearless
and you will not allow anyone
to take your place
you fight them all off
but why?

I am stuck on you
and you are stuck on her
and you will not let me be free
of your charm and your wit
your blind eyes
see nothing but her
and I see nothing but you

but this is not what saddens me the most

what breaks me down at 3 am
is that you don't even try

you do not try to give me some freedom from your grasp
but you do not want to allow me into your mind
                                                    your thoughts
                                                    your­ ever-precious heart

why do you want me to love you
if you will not love me back?
why does your beaming smile
guide me amidst lonely tracks?
why do you want me
to love you so badly
if you won't even spare me
the time of day
or the place in your mind
in which you lay peacefully in my own
each and every hour
of each and every day?

Have you lost all hope, my dear?
Have you lost sight of what's fake and what's real?
Have you held everything in,
And took it out on that precious skin?

I have, I have, in the past
But this time, I swear, will be the last
I've said that quite a few times
And not followed my lines
But that's in the past
And this time will be my last.

I'm sure you've said that too
But you've done it again
And then your guilt grew
And regret came through
After you took it out on that precious skin
After holding every single thing in.

Have you taken a blade,
And used it for the wrong reason?
Because self-induced pain is all that you're seizing?
Have you hurt yourself, my dear,
Thinking no one will care?

Did you love seeing your own blood,
Pouring out of that precious skin,
Just like a flood?
Was that your rush?
And you thought it wasn't enough?

Have you lost all hope, my dear?
Have you lost sight of what's fake and what's real?
Have you held everything in,
And took it out on that precious skin?

I'm here to say
It isn't the right way
I'm not one to talk
Because that path I have walked
But I can say this:
Please, my dear,
Don't take it out on your precious skin.