People always say
do what makes you happy
but what if the things that make me happy,
also tear me down
They always say
take the road less traveled
but I lost all roads about ten miles back
or maybe forward
I wouldn't know.

Sweat,
Sharp breaths
Not letting go yet,
You and I
Pressed against each other,
Nothing in between.
Strokes on your back,
Kisses on your neck,
Never ready for what pleasures come next
Finishing with no common sense
Then we're back at it again.
Worn out,
Eyelids heavy
Smoke a blunt
Let go already
No feelings
No worries
You and I
It happens every time
No metaphors
No flowers
No cards, no love,
Just ***
Just smoke
Just the inhales and the exhales
Just us

What is religion?
The worship of a God who claims to be all merciful
Who promises paradise to the faithful
Honey, you don't need religion
You just need something to believe in
You need a hand to lift you when time gets tough
You need something to save you when you've had enough
Why do you need a reason to be good?
You live based on what a man wrote in a book
Believe me, I did the same thing
But the difference between you and me
Is that I am truly free
No longer held by a bond that says I cannot be myself
My goal is to achieve peace without His help
My books were written by men who lived stressful lives
But instead of forcing prayer and creating lies
They taught hope and peace that you can find from inside
Because one day when your God decides he no longer wants to answer
One day when your God decides it's the end for your existence
One day when his mercy runs out and your people are no longer standing
I will.
You say your God has everlasting love?
But he created you knowing whether or not you would get to heaven or hell
You are a pawn in his game,
I was too, but I became queen
I've won this game, no need for kings.
I don't mean to bash a religion that I once loved
I just wish you could see how far I've come
I'm so close to finding my inner peace
So much closer to finding me
I'll see you in Nirvana

I don't use the blades anymore
Instead, my mind becomes the blade
My psyche resembles my wrists
because I'd rather you see the blood in my eyes
Than drenching through my sheets at night
I'm getting so sick of this blood and tear stained bed
I've resolved to keep it all in my head
because I know what happy boys do when they see scars
When they see a flicker of the perfect girl being imperfect
They run, as far as their happy legs can take them
they run to the smiling girl,
But I can be your smiling girl
I won't show you my sad
I won't show you my numb
I won't show you anything that isn't perfect.
Instead, when I'm feeling down
I'll run to the bookstore
And sit on a comfy chair in the poetry section,
You'll never find me there
because you don't know that I love books or poetry
because you think I wouldn't be caught dead in a bookstore
because you think that tea is too bitter.
So I won't show you anything other than what you want to see
and when you're here to stay,
I will be happy.

Usually you're the one that leaves,
but now I'm leaving,
Either way it hurts.