i ruptured into a
million flickering stars
too long ago, breaking from
touch-induced trauma and the
poisonous aspects of
bleach. my thoughts drip
from the ink veins
of pens; ******* it,
i cannot allow myself
the privilege of
saying, “this

is every secret i
ever hid.” i am not
soft or pretty or
loving; i am small
and hurt and reticent
and guilty and abandoned. i
long to be the

little girl i was six years ago
before he shredded my
insides, sprouted roses
in my blood, wrapped his ******
thorns around my throat. there is
no recognition of that beloved
innocence. the girl in the mirror
never looks back at me: she is knotted
hair, decaying paper skin,
scarlet gashes, pink
scar tissue. i am not

sweet or darling. i am
ravaged. van gogh swallowed
yellow paint to create some
feigned happiness, and i understand
that in the nastiest way. i spent my time
trying  to shelter the black and blue
daisies on my hips with makeup,
camouflaging razorblades in fields
of sunflowers, pouring every
unhealthy bit of my starved
stomach into the beautiful
lilies in the flowerpot in the
bathroom. i have unearthed
that home is not the
safest place to be.

i was infected and diagnosed with
the disease of loneliness
by age eight. this wound
has burdened me yet the
ticking time tomb nestled in
the crooks of my devastated
personality will soon detonate; they
told me i was sick, and i think
i finally believe that.

why am i so tired? have i completely given up? has the river stopped flowing? have you turned it into mud?
are you happy? or do you think of death? do you still dream? is the terror coming back?
can you see my heart? can you feel the grave? do you understand? is it time?

time for the parade? are you broken? can you fix it?
will you kiss me? can you feel it?

can you tell me the reason you shake?
whats your favorite song? favorite lyric? does it represent who you are?
do you know who you are? will you show me?
if not, can i help you find out?

can you feel the heat? or is temperature dropped cold?

is heaven just a place? or a feeling? is the devil coming close? can you feel his heart beating? do you reach out? who is it you trust?
why are your eyes so swollen? have you been crying? do you see the world in grey? is it black and white and blue? bruised like your thighs? cut like your wrist?

why do your eyes spill? is the universe so cruel?

do you love yourself? do you even like yourself? do you know who you are? do you know who you are? do you know who you are? do you know who i am? can you help me find out?

she is self-destruction in a bottle. she
can make fire out of sweat,
feel thorns inside her bones, and
the importance of this is that, oh
baby, the river runs red. time to
kick the habit.

but she's a broken vessel, and she
still sees in black and white. so
her body is in overdrive.
fingers caress her ****** thighs
are you listening? because soon she's going
down. a dance with a devil.
her needle's clean, her tar is laced, and her
throat is sore-she has been drowning.

her parents never loved her. her
wrist became an answering machine. she
is cold- her fingers bruised.
traced the stretch marks on her hips she has never been
with. only this month did the
red turned to white.


and by the time she notices
she realizes it's too late and she
has already
made
a
line
on
the
mirror

is there water in your lungs? fire in your veins? poison in your blood?

tell me why you cant sleep at night


the whole worlds asleep and you're awake drowning in thoughts of suicide
listening to the demons cry


have you ever felt so used up that you couldn't heave breath from your chest?
do you know what it's like to feel nothing at all?
or everything at once? can you tell me why you're eyes don't shine anymore?
they were once filled with light-they were so bright.

i know you feel like nothing is okay
but darling, i will kiss your scars

i don't know if i know anything about trauma
but its been two years and i can still feel his thick palms on my hips
i can taste his sweat on my lips
i can hear him shout not to tell
and no matter how hard i try
no matter how many showers i take
i cannot wash the filth away

i cannot remember how many pills i took that night
or how many minutes it took for the ambulance to arrive
no, i cannot remember the details
most of it was a blur
rushing faces, bright lights, loud noises


but i remember your voice
and i remember it was the first time you told me you loved me
do you remember i tried to say it back?
or do you remember the details
did you memorize the seconds i was dead for?
or how long it took to bring me back?
darling, there used to be no difference between your fist and your face
but that night, i couldn't tell your tears from your mouth

one.
i saw you standing by the tree at her funeral. nobody knew you were the reason.


two.
she used to talk about you all the time. your laugh, your eyes, oh she was infatuated with your eyes. the night she walked in on you and her-she was completely silent.


three.
nobody knew if that was the reason she killed herself. but in her note it was the only thing she left out.