maybe i like the way he makes me feel wanted and worthless at the same time. maybe i like the way he breaks my heart but stitches it back together with his kisses. maybe i like the way he never calls me beautiful, but the way he looks at me when i enter the room sends chills down my spine letting me know he thinks so. maybe i like the way he sends me home crying until 4 in the morning and texts me telling me he loves me two hours later. and maybe, just maybe i like the way he hurts me. maybe i put up with all of this because i'm just too scared to loose him.

silk, lace, im a disgrace.
bruised arms
he said i was
a charm.
drink and drink
until i can't blink.
run to the toilet and puke
i told them it was the flu
kicked and shoved
but i said i was in love
"you're a ****"
its only just a cut
tear stained jeans
tell me its just a dream
welcome to being fifteen

i have not seen you for three ******* days,
yet it seems like its been a year.
i dream about you every night,
and the things i worry most about.
i saw you in my dreams,
kissing a girl who was not me.
you moved away with your father,
and i spent the rest of my life searching for you.
i have not seen you for three days,
and it feels like hell.
i have always had separation anxiety
ever since i was 4.
i guess ever since i was little, i've been making homes
out of people,
that would never stay very long.
maybe there is some satisfaction
in breaking my own heart.

rest in peace to the teens
who wore long sleeves all year round
so no one would notice what they have done
rest in peace to the teens who drank and drank
to blur out someones name
rest in peace to the teens who just lit one too many
cigarettes just to fit in
rest in peace to the teens who couldn't make it to 2015

even though we said we were in love i often found my fingers wrapped around another cigarette than intertwined with your fingers. my lips have touched more bottles of ***** than your bottom lip. i felt more empty being with you than sitting in my room at 3 a.m bawling my eyes out for the 3rd time this week because you looked at that girl in a more passionate way than you've ever looked at me. in fact I'm not even sure that those were butterflies i was feeling in my stomach or the pain of knowing that you wouldn't be mine for long. i fill all the empty holes in my heart with things that will make me end up being more empty.

i rather have my heart be broken by you a hundred times
and be crying on my bathroom floor while my wrists are bleeding
than to have a guy come along that treats me like a princess
because loving you hurts in all the right ways

please pick yourself up off the floor, go wash your ******, bruised knees and go eat. go look in the mirror and tell yourself how beautiful you are. buy yourself flowers and go to the humane society and pet some kittens. lay in the tub and listen to that hipster song you secretly love. eat and eat and eat as much as you ******* want. do what makes you happy darling. you only have one life to live, don't spend it trying to be someone else's definition of perfect.

one day you will realize
how shaky my hands are
and how I'm always so cold,
how my tight blue jeans don't
fit the same as before.
one day you're going to notice
how often my lips turn blue
and how i'm never hungry.
one day you'll notice how broken
i really am, and you'll give up on
me like the rest of them did.

and maybe if i kissed you a little bit harder,
held your hand a little bit tighter,
hugged you a little bit softer,
told you i loved you a little bit more often,
maybe you would have stayed a little bit longer.

and not even months
of therapy
and kind words
and all medication to numb
my brain,
will mend the hole in my heart.

and finally, one day i found the courage
to tell him what i was doing to myself.
how i would etch his name into my skin
on those lonely nights i hadn't seen your face,
how i took up smoking to fill that gap in my heart
that my ex lover took with him last year,
and i told him about the things, deep dark inside
about how i barely ate anything this month
and how i wished to die.

and all he did was shake his head and sigh saying,
" but you're too happy to want to end your life".

"i wonder if this is what true love feels like", she whispered.

"what do you mean?" he asked.

"its kinda like you feel everything at once but nothing at all, its so bitter sweet, I'm not sure if i should stay or run as fast as i can", she replied.

you told me you wanted commitment
you told me i was everything that you ever wanted
you made me feel something.
he knew how broken i was
he knew what the last guy did and he looked
and me with those brown ******* eyes and told me he would
never hurt me.
i don't know if he was lying, or he just got tired of me.
weeks went by and things weren't feeling the same.
he did not text me 'good morning beautiful'
in fact sometimes he wouldn't text me at all.
he told me to not say 'i love you' until i meant it
but how could i tell him that when he didn't love me back?
he was so empty, but there was something so intriguing about him,
i think if he stayed around a little longer i could have given him the world.

i always liked reading poetry more than writing it
i felt as though my words could not really explain my feelings
for some reason it gave me a sense of calmness reading
and knowing that someone feels the same empty ache in their
chest that i do.

in the fall was the first time i saw
your big brown eyes. your hair
was the colour of the leaves falling
from the trees. i didn't think much about
how often you texted me or how you would
follow me out into the halls.

your hands were always so cold when the
snow started to fall, and your lips were so chapped
it looked like you've been biting them for a week.
and as the snow started to fall, so did i

your kiss was as refreshing as the spring morning
when the fog filled the air with dew on the grass. i told
you that i hurt myself before you came along and how i planned
to stop. i wonder if he kissed me because he felt bad.

the summer was as lonely as hell. you went away to
you dads and i don't think you remembered what my
lips tasted like when you got drunk with your other friends at camp.

you came back in september and welcomed me into your pale
skinny arms that were so comforting. i wonder if you even missed me.

and now its winter again and your heart is turning cold
just like the snowflakes landing on your eyelashes and
sometimes i don't know if we will make it but i keep holding
your hand so tight, you won't be able to let go. but maybe your heart will

please stop romancing cutting,
depression, eating disorders,
anxiety and suicidal thoughts.
those things are not beautiful.

it is not beautiful waking up
every morning wishing you
weren't here.

it is not beautiful having to wear
long sleeves in the summer to
cover up the scars on your arms.

it is not beautiful throwing up
in the toilet just so you don't
gain another pound.

it is not beautiful missing school
for a month just because you
couldn't drag yourself out of bed
to see daylight.

but you can be beautiful with
cuts and scars all over your body.

and you can be beautiful even though
you aren't too happy about your weight.

oh, and you're still beautiful if you haven't
socialized with people for a couple weeks.

and you're still beautiful even though you
blew out your 16th birthday candles wishing
you were dead.

you're beautiful, but the things that you have done to
your body aren't.