Seven minutes.
I guess that's what I spent outside today.
Seven minutes to smoke at a church
And violate it twice.
First with ***
Now with ash.

Ashes I shed
And how sad it has been
Alone.

I started doing new things
Maybe hoping that you would start caring.
Or maybe that they would **** me
And I could just stop beating.

Stop my heart. My loud heart.
Stop the hurt. The alone.

Stop beating
Stop beating

STOP BEATING
STOP BEATING.

breathe









I never really feel okay.
I'm not sure what I need,
But I'm pretty sure I'll never get it.
Seven minutes in heaven.
It's like there is no message.
I'll never get it.

Untouched by inactivity.
Untouched by activity.

Unmoved by push.
Unmoved by pull.

Impossible to affect
Impossible to revert me back.

Unfuckwithable is what they called it.
I will call it sturdy.

I will not be changed by you.
I am happy and I will not change because of you.

You.
You you you you you.

"Hamlet with Benedict Cumberbatch. Very good. Thank you Marshall."

My heart pounds.
I repeat these lines
I smile
I hear her voice.

I hear her voice.

Add a poem
Write a poem my eyes dilated
She wears that shirt and my thoughts expand
Beyond the fibers of her thread and green
I breathe.
Green and green and green again
This light is white for not much longer,
Green.

I'm not yellow, she is blue.
I don't drink purple
And our wavelengths are resonant.

This is nonsense to ask if you but her and she and they and them.
Not one
but all could solve
This riddle. But Christ I want
To be more plain. I feel you.
In my eyes my chest my hands my brain my past my present.
I hear your voice and that is not a skill I have.

Six hundred feet away
The PA system of the nearby school comes on

Ding **** ding
"Good afternoon students! Let's have a wonderful afternoon here at __ Academy!"

I wake up and look around and realize I'm okay.
I have no overwhelming desire to die or eat or cry or complain or to really do anything.

I'm happy.

Blended my brain and my eyes roll back and see red
Purple every night to escape my head
It's death.

Intoxicating these toxic thoughts escapes them
I'm trapped and hated
And I can't make it.

I close my eyes and I see her or a barrel
And it's terrible.

The solution to my life
Is to accept it as my vice
And accept that I'm not fine.

I am arms and I grasp
And they can't accept that
I'm crass
And my thoughts are black
I can't
Make up for the lack
Of passion
Society hasn't.

I breathe you.
I breathe you in the first breath I take every morning
I taste you in the NyQuil I have to abuse before I can sleep
I see you in the purple dreams I remember every night

NIGHTMARES

I have nightmares of you.
I nightmare you in my inadequacy and my ignorance
I nightmare you in my clothing and the way I cut my hair
I nightmare you in the tumblr girls I reblog
I nightmare you in the way my breath shortens when I can't breathe you and when I don't want to breathe you.
Asthma attack, you're my air and I loathe you
I want to suffocate but I can't keep suffering like this
I NEED AIR.
REAL AIR.
NOT THIS HELL.

I want to breathe air.
I don't want to breathe you.
I want to dream dreams,
Not nightmares.

You have total grasp of my mind
And you don't even know.