I would bend myself in half and break bones
if it meant I could kiss your lips.

I would break down doors
  if it meant you were behind them,
waiting for me.

I would eat all of the foods I hate
if it meant I got to have dinner
with you.

I would watch films I despised
if it meant I got to take you
to the movies and see you smile
at your favorite parts.

I would run a marathon
if it meant you'd be at the finish line
waiting to greet me.

The sadness inside of me becomes crippling when I run out of things to distract myself with.
I'll push all of the horrible thoughts to the back of my mind
and escape in another world,
but sometimes that isn't enough to hold me over.
And sometimes the monsters play these horrible games inside of my head; they often make me wish I were dead.

Slow burning and thick is the smoke in my lungs.
A death wish in the end,
a refreshment of poison that enters my bloodstream.
Youth of less than 30, 20, and even 18;
all of us are just searching for happiness and enjoyment in life,
since everything is just so ******.
Ignorance is truly bliss.
Yet my generation is acquiring negative knowledge so quickly.
All of us grew up too fast to enjoy our youths in an uncorrupted way.
Our innocence has been robbed by those older than us.
Our happy places aren't the movies, dances, or skate rinks;
they're bottles of liquid poison and capsules full of assorted chemicals which induce false emotions for a few hours.
To be ignorant and clueless is to be truly happy.

Lonely spaces are filled with self-temptations and anxiety.
***** secrets crawl to the deepest depths.
My skin can't shake this constant itch;
as if you've dug yourself to my bones.
My fingers twiddle and bend back searching for that ever so warming touch.
This cold skin is shedding in hopes to start brand new.
So weary, used and torn.
Who could see beauty in a tragedy as sad as me?

My eyes are waves of the ocean;
my moods are just as inconsistent.
I peak and I crash, sober minded
and lost being pulled beneath the tides.
I drown in my own depths,
too far under to be saved.
Clear headed for only seconds before I lose myself to thought.
Hope is far gone before I wash up on shore.
Left cold, withered with broken bones,
and no one even knows.

The taste of sleepless nights linger on the back of my tongue,
the ones we'd stay up to watch the sun.
The times of my life are always told to the stars when I'm alone at night,
as those sleepless nights just aren't much fun.
The feel of cold breezes took us by surprise,
yet we managed to stay warm inside.
But the cold on my own skin is unforgiving and bitter sweet.
Why not send your warmth through my head to my feet?
This dreaded heart is too cold for me.