shadow men speak to me
he says i'm safe
he says i'm perfect company
and i offer him my mind
for i am scared
simply because he is there
and he is real

a rainbow paints the sky
and kisses my cheek
she says i am the beauty
that she reflects
and i offer her my skin
because i know i am the ugly
that coats her gray skies

rain drops speak to me
he says he understands my woes
he says he cries for me
and i offer him my pain
for i want to be one with the bright
simply because i am hurt
and i know that i will never be happy

sunlight shouts into my room
and grasps my hand
she says i am the light
that she burns
and i offer her my hair
because i know fiery red
makes yellow an earth shattering orange

gray clouds speak to me
he says i'm beautiful
he says he's sorry he never came sooner
and i offer him my hope
for i know he needs the innocence
simply because he is dark
and i want to give my purity a chance

a sunflower coats my ceiling
and holds me in her outstretched petals
she says she loves the light in my eyes
and i tell her i gave it to the clouds
she says she loves the wild in my hair
and i tell her i gave it to the sun
she says she loves my pain and strength
and i tell her i gave it to the rain
she says she loves my simplistic beauty
and i tell her i gave it to the rainbow
she says she loves my racing mind
and i tell her i gave it to the shadow man
she says she loves me
and that what i gave away
was not all that i had
and i ask if she would like the rest
but she shakes her gold halo
and tuts
and she sings with a voice that glides
down my throat like warm honey
i do not want what you are made of
and she wraps me in her petals
and leaves
and she smells of everything wonderful
in the world
and when she is finished
she is grey and drooping
and she says
now you are one with the bright
and she leaves me to ponder
what i have really given away.

the oil bubbles under my skin
and i am sinful
he whispers, "baby, sin for me"
and i grin because he has no idea
what fire he has just lit
and i make sure he is
sure
because there is no going back
once the tornado i am is released
from it's butterfly cage
and he smirks and whispers,
"baby, have i ever been uncertain
when it comes to you"
and so i draw the curtains
around us with pencil and pen
and i ask again
if he is sure
and he whispers, "baby, sin for me"

and so i grab a blade
and run it down my tongue
because he likes his girls silent
and so i obtain a gun
**** it and put it on my temple
and pull the trigger
because he likes his girls brainless
and so the oil bubbles out of my mouth
and it spills onto my *******
because he likes his girls hot
searingly so
and so i draw my sword
and cut out my lungs
because he likes his girls breathless
and so i tear a cigarette out of it's pack
and light it
because he likes his girls rebellious
and so i kiss his lips
and rip his tongue out with my teeth
because i want him speechless
and i can tell from his sparkling eyes
that i was more than he bargained for
and so i put myself together
and whisper,
"baby, sin for me"
and leave
for i am sinful.

i spilt tea on my floor
tonight
and it reminded me of you
the way the sticky sweet
coated each tile
the way it stuck to my skin
like an undeniable sin
like you
suicidal tendencies
with starved remedies
breathe me in like a camel ninety nine
i parch your mouth
and chap your lips
like a deceitful crime
i am the sound of silence
that plasters your room
you sit there like it's your
self-proclaimed tomb
and i sit here awaiting
a silent conversation
to resume
my thoughts are absurd
and obscured
and they twist and churn
rarely settling
as though they are waters post stir
i do not like being less than
and i am afraid i am never more than
and i'm always settling
for less than
because i am
less than
hot tea sticks to my lips
and i can feel a death sentence on
my tongue
and it tastes like ***
mixed with ***** and wine
and i cannot comprehend why
i would make such a drink
but i cannot comprehend
why i do much of
anything
you say i am thunder
that you love the sound of me
but in my wake you blunder
and i realize
how i am a horror story
that you shoved with the rest of
the skeletons in your closet
and i realize
i reek the most
instigated arguments
tearing parchments
isolated little girl
i am alone
i am alone
i am alone
i am surrounded by people
but i am alone
do you hear me screaming
for you to look at me
and see me
for all you see is
sticky sweet
like i am spilt tea
you could lap up
on your charcoal tongue
cancer smells good on you
it smells like lilac lullabies
like lavender daydreams
and lily sighs
you are a nightmare
lost in a fantasy
of being something real
and i am alone
lost in a reality
of wanting adventure and fantasy
but nobody could foresee
the greenest of envies
that sat in my fragile mind
all i could feel anymore
was blind
for i cannot see
i cannot feel
i cannot breathe
help me
my heart is not beating
and i can feel it rising
to the ceiling of my throat
i'm afraid i will choke
each of my organs have shifted upwards
i cannot think
my tongue is not in my mouth
rather it sits in your hand
and you dip it into spilt tea
before asking if i would like a drink
i am smoke
sifting down your throat
chasing all of the memories
of happiness that no longer
sit in your chest
instead they dance
and adhere to the floor
as hot tea sticks like glue
and holds you hostage
and my thoughts run rampant
and spill onto my floor
with the black tea
that suppresses my urge to breathe
and it is like it is spilling into my lungs
and you ask me
if this is fun
but you hold my tongue in your fist
and my lips still feel smothered
by your kiss
because your lips feel like
your fist
and my blood oozes
like spilt tea
and you want to take a drink.

your freckles are my favorite constellation
and i mapped each one
and i traced each one
and i sketched each one
until i felt closer to you

someday
you will look at me
and no longer love me
in fact
someday
you will look at me
and no longer see me
rather
you will see millions of
ghost stories
that you thought you had drowned
with each sip of cheap liquor
that you continue to pour
down your charred throat
your charred tongue
and your black teeth
that are only black
when they smile at me

and i want to be able to look
at your face again
and simply see
stars
that i can lose myself in

she numbs the smell of cigarettes
with bleach and tears
and she tells me that she doesn't know why
she cries at night
but i know that there's something
that hides behind the light
as her shaking hand reaches out
to flip the switch
i know that she is scared
i ask her what she is thinking
and her lips freeze in an o
and she tells me she's uncomfortable
and that her thoughts are made of nightmares
and codeine mixed with seroquel
and blood on her favorite t-shirt
and she's too scared to tell me
why
her lips are chapped and peeling
her eyes are screaming
so loud that
i can hear it ringing in my ears
and she asks if i can hear them singing too

anjelica says she likes to play games
and she tells me we can have fun
but where is the fun
when she's always just about to run
she asks me to dance
dance
and i realize she never had any chance
to save herself
and my mind says how i should have saved her
i see her in my dreams
and i don't see the cherry tree
along the cobblestone walkway anymore
rather i see dead roses
scattered across a dirt path
and the roses are painted with blood

anjelica screams my name
she asks if i still write about her
she asks if i still love her
she begs to know if i still know her
she tells me she stopped loving me
she tells me she never knew herself
she tells me she tears my poetry because it is
too real
and i realize my dear anjelica
is not
real

she is a thorn i would
bury into my own chest
so that she is near my heart
she smells like cigarettes and bleach
there are tears that stain her cheeks
and mascara that runs down her face

what's wrong with me
i hear her say
and i would love
to tell her that
she is perfection
in the form of a mortal
but i say nothing
and she says nothing
and i can feel the silence
weighing on my head
and it weighs her hair back into curls
and my mind shouts
to know why we do
nothing
i beg the world for something
she tells me she is not alive
and i realize once again
she is not real
anjelica will forever fill my poetry
but anjelica does not
speak

she does not speak to me
unless she needs
more air to breathe
she does not speak to me
she looks at my eyes
with her burning eyes
and we create a new language
that neither of us know
she says she is okay
and she is not okay
she is broken like a lamp
that has fallen off a building that touches the sky
she is not real
anjelica exists only
in my poetry
but she consumes my thoughts
with her charred lungs.

i would love to feel your eyes
dragging across my skin
like they are knives
because they look and feel
like knives
dragging across each of my scars
sometimes when i cry
i can feel pain from
where i self harmed
and i know my body is
hungry for it
but at first i only self harmed
because somebody
with daggers for eyes
found them ugly and
his eyes no longer
dragged on my body
and his hands
stopped tearing me
limb
from
limb
and you scream
attention *****
lonely girl
attention *****
and i cry
when i feel you
stare
but i laugh
because nothing is
there
but my self afflictions
and your eyes
are the reason
i sleep with the
lights off
because you cannot
see the sword's blade
in the
dark

empty stomachs
empty unsettled stomachs
stomachs that twist and curve
like the back roads
that stretch across the land
and wind around
each and every hill
each and every bank

empty stomachs
empty growling stomachs
stomachs that scream and whine
like the demons
that crowd your mind
and scream in your eardrum
each and every pain
each and every degradation

empty stomachs
empty shrinking stomachs
stomachs that
like the roadsides
that are littered by trash
and shrink like your stomach
each and every bottle
each and every morsel

i am the worn pavement
on a historic town's
back roads
i am the dust
that you coat on your
memories
i am the smell of singed hair and nightmares
the smell that makes your stomach curl
i am the taste of ***** and choked tears
the taste that drips on your lips like a poison
i am the yellow bruises and nail marks
that decorate your skin
from pinching too hard
i am the gentle soothing voice
begging you to die
i am the ***** that sifts
down your throat
with a burn that you
find pleasurable
i am the smoke you inhale
into your throat
with a burn that you
find pleasurable
i am the reason you can't eat
and your stomach curls up in a smile
and shakes slowly
and tells me how empty it is
your empty stomach
screams for the help
you only dream of.