I guess a life of ease isn't meant for a sinner like me.

it's so easy to talk about loneliness and pain
to romanticize all of these things that i've been feeling
and throw in rhymes here and there

but how do i get myself out of this mess?
how do you fall in love when you're so uncomfortable
with yourself?

it's 5 am again and all i can think of is
how quickly my fingers hover over the keys
and there are people rising but
i still cannot sleep

i am engulfed in sad songs and books and the quotes
in those books that tell me more about myself
than i ever can

(sometimes i wish some dead poets were my friends
and then sometimes i wish i could put on a mask
and masquerade around as another person,
as a stranger even to myself
i feel like i'd be more comfortable then)

tell me, what does it feel like to fall in love?
does it feel like electricity crawling up and down your spine,
like warm fuzzy feelings swirling in your stomach like wine?
and does it last? or do people just pretend?
will i ever find love? or will i be all alone in the end?

He tells me I could get a boyfriend
if I spoke in my bad British accent.
It's very illegitimate.
I've only ever been to Heathrow,
I have no idea what dialect it is.
But he still says it's ****.

It would catch attention, I'm sure.
Interest from long haired hipster boys
Maybe the occasional "Oh, are you from England?"
And I could fib and say yes,
because the average American can't hear the difference
between a girl imitating Masterpiece Classic and Keeping Up Appearances,
and a true born Bristolian or Brummie.

"You're sure to get a man," he says.
'But I don't want one.' I think in reply.
I think he really just wants to know
if I am considering replacing his memory.
"Not yet Govn'a," I say in my best Cockney.
Not yet.

Please forgive me
If the only words you hear from me
Are sad and depressing
Things

Because all that courses through
These dying veins anymore
Is the evil that comes
From my aching heart

I do not know
Happiness

And happiness
Is not a friend of
Mine.

-e.w.

This is not the story of the sun and moon. I am selfish and afraid of getting hurt. I will trace your veins and swim in the galaxies of your heart, but will never be able to stay with you.
2. My head is always preoccupied with the thought “Will I still get into Heaven if I **** myself?” I neglect to believe in Heaven, or Hell. Yet, I’m always wondering if a special pardon will be made.
3. I will leave you. Either because of death, or self-loathing; you will be left.
4. I become too infatuated with the fictional characters that live inside my books. I will finish a book, then curl into a ball and cry; a piece of me now torn and lost forever.
5. I will want to do nothing more than lay in bed with you and listen to my old records. To explore your mind, to explore your body. I will want all of you.
6. I will love you too deeply. The love would be like drowning in a black body of water. It will be heart-stopping. Crushing. More passionate than a fire set to burn down an entire village.
7. My mental illness will scare you away. You must be able to hold me while I am breaking. You must be able to control me while I’m angry. You must be able to stop me from jumping off of that balcony right above you, and I don’t think you can do that.
8. You must be prepared to spend days at a time in my bed, in the most innocent of ways. You must be able to just be with me. No talking, just being.
9. I oh, so desperately want to please you. You will get too attached.
10. Lastly, I am a broken individual. You can’t fix me. I need you to help me. I need you to be there for me. When I’m sobbing, I need you. When I think of my sister, I need you. When I get kicked out, I need you. I need you. I need you always.
                                And you simply can’t handle it.

He takes me down
And brushes the dust
Thats collected on my limbs.

He puts me on his arm
And smiles at all these faces ,
I grin and bare it .

They Oo and they Ah at how lovely
It all seems ,
It crosses my mind
That i cant fool everyone .

Silent ride home ,
Seems like 20 million paces
From the car to the house.

Wash my face ,
Trying to rid the day,
Light off.. Back up on the shelf.

I awoke with cold toes.
The starch white cotten against my skin, as my leg lay stretched out to the side. Its so cold early in the morning but i always beg you to leave the window open .... The sound of you making love with me mixes perfectly with the songs the crickets hum for us.