I cry now days.
I don't hold it back.
Anything that jerks my tears,
Successfully pull at least one.

Today I was scrolling,
My contact list, my connections.
I saw her name.
Her picture.
Her number.

I see it every day, almost.
I've never cried like this.

Recorded words of times ago,
Recorded words that hurt,
I remember when we fell in love,
When it wasn’t just a flirt.

I remember every day,
Every word you said,
I remember every photo,
Especially that one in bed.

I don’t want to go back,
Nothing good comes from the past,
But if I had one wish,
It’d be that it wasn’t the past.

If I had three wishes,
I would wish for three things,
Your health,
Your heart,
Our life.

People wonder why I forgive.
I wonder why they don't.
Mistakes are taken.
They happen.
It is a duty,
A necessity to forgive.
To apologize for others,
When they won't for herself.

My dad asks me why I let myself get used,
I tell him
We use amazing things every day and smile.
He doesn't get it.

Every plus has a minus.

Wake up.

Eyes jut open,
Laying on the hard wet sand of a beach,
Unbeautiful.

Gray.
Tan.
Cold.
The colors felt.

Change your ways.

Wake up warm.

Azure steel bay of forgotten goodbyes,
Why did I have to lie.
Crimson glint cave of retained gifts,
Why didn’t we share a kiss.
Snowy grey crack of gathered regrets,
Why did we recess.
Go back,
Go down,
Go out.
Why did we fail.
I, the sailor,
Can’t sail in this gail,
Or rather this eye.
This still,
This stop of storm.
Stop.

Every single day.
Every single day I want to reach into my pocket.
Find your name.
And fix everything.

I want to tell you I love you.
You were my best friend.
I want you.
I didn’t have ***.
I don’t care that you did.
I care about you.
I love you.
I will always be in love with you.
We made promises.
I want to say anything and everything.
I want to go to your house, hundreds of miles away,
And knock on the door.

Nothing I can do will fix anything but,
CHRIST.
I think about you.

I still have that lovely morning photo.
You’re perfect.
My brain makes my eyes see you everywhere.

I wish it wasn’t wrong.

I've held so many women,
More than I can count.
But if I had to count.
I would say four.
And then I would say one.
My brain would say four.
My heart would say one.
I've only held one in my heart.

And she hates me.

I remember when we met in person, like it was earlier
today.
I saw the car first, and new it was you, love.
Christ my heart was racing.
But ****, I was sure. I was so confident. Terrified.

I walked up to the back window you had rolled down.
Your hair was dyed black and shining, your skin wonderfully pale.
You were wearing teal. And you smiled.

"Hey" was all I needed to say.
I tried to pretend that I knew you really ******* well and that we were a normal couple.
It worked for a little bit.

That was a great day.

The way a woman sings can make my heart melt.
How she accentuates the consonants in "****" can turn me on.
What level of dressing she will let me see her in consoles me.
Her willingness to hold my arm when we walk together,
How easily she shakes my hand when I first meet her,
Can change everything.

Really though, just kiss me.
I'm easy.

Strings his bow,
Checks his quiver.

And puts both down.
*No blood this time.

Just, sit.
And stare.
And sit and stare.
And listen.
And move.
Then sit and move and listen.
And stare.
And wait.
And wait.

Oh wait maybe.
No.

****.

I'd push your daisy.

*wink wink

I can hear the song that I was to write, but words don't describe music well.

May what he can, be.
And what he sees is, tree.
And up there, upside.
There's gravity that goes,
Left.
Don't look right.

Alone.
Again.
Wasted.
Again.
This happened.
Again.
"Why."
Again.
Always.
Again.

I don't deserve this.

“Welcome,” the Devil said, smiling.

An unclothed man of pale skin and toned muscles stood feet away from a teenage boy with black, ashy, hair. The boy was wearing a simple outfit; white linen with black buttons, dark pants. Confidently, the boy stepped forward. Inches shorter than the still heavily breathing man, he put his hand on the strong shoulder and looked up into dark, untrusting eyes.

Hell wasn’t anything like Adrian thought it would be. He didn’t doubt it though, this was Hell alright. Whiteness was everywhere, almost blindingly bright. Exhausted from the fight, the shock of getting hit, the running and tumbling, he breathed loudly through his nose. His body was as it was on Earth. His scars, sweat and blood were all identical to how it was in the fight only minutes ago. There was a gaping hole about the width of his extended hand through his chest; his heart was mangled and torn but somehow still pumping.

“You died, Adrian. And God doesn’t care. He’s never cared.

“You probably think that your life on Earth was righteous enough to make it to Heaven, to meet God. And you’re right, really, you lived well. Your final moments alone should be enough to give you an ivory throne, but no. Nobody gets into Heaven.

“I’m sorry, Adrian.”

The Devil slid his hand down, off of Adrian’s shoulder and turned around. The fatigued in and out of the fighter’s breath was the only sound in the air.

“I’m feeling generous today,” Adrian could feel a cool gust of wind behind him. The boyish Devil walked forward and placed his hand onto the man’s chest. Slowly, he could feel the hole filling up; a numbing warmth filled his rib cage, a new vitality. “Have a good life, Adrian. Enjoy your gift.”

The Devil shoved Adrian backwards. He gasped.

And that's okay.

Sea shell, sea shell,
By the stegosaur,
Millions of years prior to dinos
So often pictured together.

Why must it be so easy to
Break.

Pterosaurs are not all
Pterodactyls,
******.
And they are less bird
Than the monster you call T. rex,
Which was actually a scavenger.

Velociraptors don't exist as you think they do,
The closest thing you speak of are turkey sized
pack runners from Mongolia and China.
Or the Utah Raptor, over 6 meters long, from my native home land,
Utah.

You can't comprehend how much time
This Earth has been through.

We are less than the one percent.

I could ruin her life.
I won't.
I could though.

When I was explaining how she knew I cut, I could have slipped a
          •Omitted due to some promise I made•
or a
          "Oh, and she has scars all over her body."

But I didn't.

I'll let her learn alone, the punishment for forcing me into health.

Compass of steel and chain,
Around your neck you sit.
The points you show feign,
They never fit.

Lying so gently,
Laying so gently,
Benignly fading,
Mentally.

I can't fade the North I know,
Evident are the seeds she's sown.
If only if only
I weren't so lonely.

The Ocean
*exists.

"I'm in love with broken.

The weak, the powerless,
Seizable.

I want to help.
          Not them, myself.

"Usage,"
A verb.
A synonym for life.
An alias for Marshall.
_________________
Spa­rked by a girl I was eyeing at the Vanguard performance. She was beautiful with pale skin and dark hair.
Her thigh gap was as large as possible.
Aside from the Jews in the Holocaust, she was one of the skinniest people I've seen.

God. What the hell.
Why must they all be broken?"

I am Joe's bloodshot eyes.
I am Joe's clenched fist.
I am Joe's irregular heartbeat.
I am Joe's yearning ****** desire.
I am Joe's failing chemical receptors.
I am Joe's overdose.
I am Joe's attempted ******.
I am Joe's official autopsy.
I am Joe's medical examiner saying that he died from a cerebral hemorrhage.
I am Joe's mass grave.
I am Joe's lack of family and friends.
I am Joe's mistakes.

If I see the bottom, I see the top.
I speak loudest when I'm silent.
I sleep best when I'm awake.
I'm only flying when  I'm on the ground.

I only get this way when there's a glimmer of hope.
I want a friend.

I want her to kiss me as she would a lover,
And love my body as she would a lover,
And hold me as she would a lover.
And call me "Lover,"
And drape herself over me,
And examine me from inches away.

I want her to look into my irises and say
                 "You have a triangle speck of your deep brown which pierces your pupil,"
And I will kiss the tip of her nose say
                 "You are the first to notice. I love you."
And she will smile and we will embrace and give in.

We would not be lovers, just.
People who make passionate body connections and care for the other.

I cannot love.

The thin, clear layer that forms on rendered fat is glycerine.
You can mix it with nitric acid to make nitroglycerine.
Mix that with an alkali nitrate and something like sawdust or paper mush and -Boom!-

Dynamite.

I learn things when I listen.

I just wanted to let you know, that.
Well, I'm working on forgiving myself.
It's getting easier. I'm getting healthier.
I laugh more. I look around more.
I see the world for its beauty, not its pain.
I love life. I love how the sun rises and the earth spins.
I love my books and my dad and my puppy in puppy heaven.
I love my soul, and Tyler's soul and my grandparents. And many more.
And I don't think I love you and that's okay. I was wrong. You were right about me being wrong.
Love isn't the only thing that matters.
I used to believe it was.

I was wrong. And that's okay.
Life is a learning lesson and I'm only 16 years and 340 days old.
I've got a lot of learning to do.

I won't cut again. I'm sorry I did. But I like this new scar.
It feels cool and looks cool and I like what it reminds me of.
Because most memories of you are pleasant even though they're terrifying and I hate them. To clarify: you didn't make me cut.
You were just added weight to my trigger.
Especially. The uh. Hm. That one thing that you only told two people or so you told me.

I miss Belle. She was my best friend.
I love her to death. Always will.

And I miss the Faith that was once my best friend but she doesn't exist anymore.
She had ***. Almost with three different men, I was almost one of them. But she had *** with just one. I hope.

I drink more water nowadays. It helps clean my system. I write less poetry. And that's okay.

I'm reading Fight Club. I can relate a lot to it. ****-
                                                                                       rule No. 1.
I'm doing more school work. I'm done with work next week.
I miss taking care of dogs and chickens. Turns out I liked it.

I take more Marshall time now. That's a good thing.
I deserve it.
But I'm also terrible busy.

In Jazz Band, we're playing a kinda ****** piece instead of one that we've been working so ******* and I feel kind of betrayed.
I play trombone. Jazz and Wind Ensemble.

I've been ******* more lately and I don't quite know why.
It's not loneliness. I think it's just honest *** drive.

This chick at work is really cool and attractive and I kind of feel bad for leaving because we connect really well.
I want to see if I can get her number.
She has nice eyes and is relaxed with me. I love it.
And her voice is lovely. She's relatively short, that's honestly the only iffy.
And I don't know how old she is.

I'm glad you turned my note into the office.
Don't know why I wrote my whole name on it AND put my emblem in the corner. It's supposed to be a supplement for my name...

I'm sorry that you had to be the one to help me. It should have been somebody who didn't hate me. Kind of upside down, don'tcha think?

I've only had one dream about you since we split. The night after it happened.
I dreamt about Belle the night after that :)

Music doesn't feel as good as it used to. My taste has changed with this schism.
Silverstein still feels good but not as much as it used to. Atreyu is closer to home, but I wore that out. Chiodos is on the plate right now but I feel like that will waste soon. I'm feeling like I should try pop.

Alie, the server manager at work, also my neighbor, is my mother figure. My grandmas are getting old. My aunts have disappeared. My papa is getting old and it saddens me. I love him to death. He was my childhood. I will be the hardest crier at his funeral. I'm tearing up already.
But not yet. He still cooks. He still laughs. And loves.


You will never read this. And that's okay.
I needed this. Not you. Me.

Cause I'm ******* awesome and no other should be able to drag me down.
Because they will ALWAYS try.

(I still want *** though. Emily is one of the things my brain thinks about, but when I'm fantasizing alone in the dark or shower or something, I always think of Belle. Every time. I can't shake her and I don't want to. She is the dream.)
(But so is MY future. I just hope she's part of it, but if not entirely, that's okay. I want to be a pharmacist. Or something like that. Preferably pharmacist. I've looked up a lot on how to make it happen.)
(7-11 Coffee is my favorite. But Dee's is really good too.)

Te Amo.
~M

I often feel my veins and arteries,
I trace their existence, their depth.
Blue and red.
Red's unseen.

I think about what it would be like to
hook
           a knife underneat the vein,
                             and
Yank! Just Rip!

How long would it take for me to bleed out?
Would I?
Which should I choose for the fastest, most accurate death.

I hate death. Life is too precious.
I love living.

Veins are cool.

A hard iron ball,
Being pounded with hammers.
It heats, it stretches, it breaks.
The iron ball shattered, torn.

My love is like an iron ball,
Not much fun to receive.
Insignificant, unusable,
and Hard.

Put it on your desk.
It might have a purpose in the future.

I wrapped the suicide note around my throat,
It came in the form of a noose.
But before I knew what I wanted to do,
I had somehow wiggled loose.
The stool's too short for this overpowering court,
"Back to my old resorts."

Solitioner, Soliloquy, Silence.
Petitioner, "Papers please", Paint,
     Take your pick.
Get high, Get drunk,
But don't, That's ******.

Get in love, Make some babies,
Don't. That's *******.

Have fun.
Yeah.
Have fun.

Body and soul.

Soft sand, the Orchid stands,
Or sits rather.
I miss her, the Orchid.
I miss her, the Peach.
I miss her, the Rebel.
I miss her, the Dream.

Soft like sand, I lay and draw lines.
Lines and lines.

One must lead to her.
Soft as the finest sand, Egyptian cotton.

Soft like skin. Soft like pedals.
Soft like love, I miss her.

Remedy my melody,
It's broken,
Out of tune,
Off tempo.

Wake me up,
I'm sleeping,
Catatonic,
Don't see me.

Entertain me,
Satisfy me,
Deny me,
My love.

Don't trust
My Lust.

Normalcy is a noun.
A word we want.
Something special.
Something certain.
A preview, a peek at the past.


Normalcy is
         Narcissism.

I watched the fire burn silently and slowly,
I watched it spread throughout the hills.
I watched the sky turn dark with ash as the vows you made had crashed.
I watched you burn as the fire came around.
I watched you burn.
I watched you burn.


**Burn.

So sick of metaphors,
So sick of trying.
So sick of fake love,
I’m sick of crying.

Love thyself, thy neighbor,
just don’t love a broken soul.
Love all the things you control,
but broken souls have holes.

Cause when you laugh,
And when you run,
You will fall into a hole.
"****" will go the fun,
And "****" will go the sun.
"****" will go control.

And you will be back to crying.

I’m not lying, I’ve been there and back.
                         *Thrice.

Glazed black marbles,
Striking black suit.
He helps me sleep.

And walked to the window, the morning breeze felt nice.
It was early but he didn't want to check how early because his brain would trick his body into more sleep.
Throwing on some clothes, he checked his phone making sure not to look at the time (even though he was kinda sure it said 6-something),
There was a message from his true-love.
"Good Morning **** ;)"
Jesus how early does she wake up?
"Good morning, love. I'm going for a run. The weather's great."

And so he did. And made tea when he got back.

The needle tore a hole two nights ago,
I didn't bite my tongue.
But it stung.

And bled. Slightly.
The lines lead
     to more lines,
Each was easier. Slightly.

And when I walked away for the night,
Come day I was clean.
And now I wear short sleeves.
Cause they can ask me "Did it Hurt?"
     And I will say "Ask Reznor, not Cash."

Wailing "I miss him," I miss the fabric of his hair,
The roughness of his paws, the brown in his eyes.
I miss the way he smiled and the way he loved.
I miss all of him, his breath even.

But he died.

And by god I will cry every night
To let him know
"I miss you!"

Opalescent eyes,
She crawled on top of me and kissed my neck.

My dark oak hair layed out on the blanket in all directions,
Like a sunflower of stands.

She was there above me, with only one layer of shirt on,
The air was cold and I could see the temperature in her *******.

Her legs spread across my lap,
She could feel me turn harder,
And she smiled.

I flip it off.

Why did we fall in love?

Broken.
Shattered.
Pieces that fall.

Scars.
Sadness.
She makes him enthralled.

Punishment.
Torture.
She limits herself.

Please.
Listen.
Don't do this to yourself.

Believe.
In love.
Love oneself,
          Always.

         Happiness.
         Will stay.

Then the spice must flow.

Why doesn't she love mine?

I don't receive her gaze, but I can gain her lips?
Gleaming eyes I wrote of don't look my way,
Nor do they even say "You matter."
Of all the things I would like most, just, one look per day?
Remind me of those nights, remind me how we tried;
Every day I wrote of you, that gaze, your skin, your laugh. Your heart.
Do you even care?

Thou art the joy in my soul.
Washing away today's tears.
New water to clean the old.
It feels like it's been years.

Pulse.



                                Pulse.
                        Pulse.

The urge is back.



                    To bleed.

Wake up to smell the ashes,
Step outside and die.
You can't see the gashes
I hide on the inside.

Paint on a smile and run,
Run with the hoards of sheep.
But even their collective sum
Won't put our minds to sleep.

We fake being happy,
We have to or we cry.
But we would accept death gladly,
To wake up and just, *die.

And having her look away.