I've been trying to figure out how to say this,
but it's really surprising ....
this feeling.
It's actually kind of,
exhilarating .




*I fell back in love with *myself today.

you miss childhood so much you try dressing like you would if you were seven again.
sneakers and frilly socks.
big t-shirts and messy hair, because you’ve stopped caring about perfect hair.
you don’t mind getting your knees ***** or scabs on your shins.
those pains don’t make you flinch.
those pains don’t talk to you at night.
those pains don’t hurt like the hurt you’ve really felt.
the type of hurt that can’t be pin pointed or fixed with copious amounts of Neosporin.
you don’t worry about how you’ll feel in the morning until the morning comes.
you bite the skin off the tips of your fingers like your aiming for the bone.
because the stress and pain hits you bone deep.
bone deep.
its almost romantic sounding.
but isn’t being so broken such a romantic thing anymore?
sad music doesn’t even phase you.
its all you know. instrumentals lined with tiny violins and crying cellos.
you lay back in the grass and close your eyes. you try forgetting about the city surrounding you. the heat rises from the pavement and grips your lungs like my hands grip the small of your neck. the sun beats down on you like you owe it money.
but you don’t sweat.
this is the small stuff.
ice coffee and a bagel with cream cheese.
start your day happy.
fall apart at the end.
repeat. things get better.
then they get worse.
three months of total bliss for three months of total ****.
thats the way life works right?
it always gets better though.
be still.

i see everyone else, and i feel like im missing out on this thing in life...
and i don't know what it is, its this feeling, nostalgia almost.
and everyones laughing, cause i dont have it.
*im starving to be happy

yes
(maybe) i do want to **** myself

yes
(maybe) i hesitate
because I’m too scared

yes
(maybe) i’m too scared
of the pain it might cause (me)

but
(maybe) it’ll be less painful
than feeling like a disappointment all the time

(maybe) a little scar on my wrist
might be prettier than my…

my demons are my best friend because they dont leave me alone at night,
they cradle me in there wicked sins and kiss me on the forehead when they put me to bed,
they never leave my side,
through the light and especially the dark
they make me
they are me
i am a demon
my body is simply a **disguise

I havent stopped saying your name,
Its always patiently waiting on the edge of my lips
and it stings most nights
when i lay under my pillow
trying to find a way to fish you back out of it.
your name reminds me of the bites on my neck
although these dont feel as good
and my duvet still smells like you
that versaace scent.
i havent moved a single thing in my room since the day you left
my window is still wide open
its about 40 degrees out.
i think i forgot the feeling of warmth
something you always brought to me.
your clothes are still on my bed
i always wonder if you want them back

you were never part of my plan
you werent meant to come into my life
yet you still managed to shatter my heart.

I hate myself.

you were such a lovely boy,
good heart, and good intentions
and im sorry i destroyed that.
i am soooooo sorry i destroyed that
no words can amount up to how sorry i truly am.

you did not deserve the treatment i was giving you
and you do not deserve the broken heart you have now.

i watch you from time to time
to see the gray in your skin, and the pout in your lips
and to think,
thats what i did.
but i warned you
i warned you that i was not okay
and you insisted.
you tried to mend my broken heart
while i slowly sliced yours apart
and you hated jonnie for what he did to me
so should i hate myself for what i did to you?

dont answer that

because i already did.

I'm tired of feeling so alone
I give and I give and I give and I give
And all I hope for is 75 back.
And I can't even get 25.
I'm tired of constantly feeling used
Friendship, relationship, family.
people are only around when it benefits them
So I guess I've figured out my purpose in life

still craving happiness
still craving excitement
im happy with myself
im just not happy with the things that are around me

my brain is sick

each part, each lobe

decomposing

day by day

my core is infected

with a disease that spreads

rapidly

entwining with the matter

growing like weeds amongst my positive thoughts

this sickness destroys my confidence

my ambitions.

my motivations.

my will.

my dreams are invaded, my spirit is weak

this sickness is rotting me from the core.

I will not be a victim of my own head.
put myself down when i stand infront of a mirror
sadness is not my favorite shirt.
even if i wear it often
but this year,
this year i will take it off
and hang it in the closet
along with all my other skeletons
summers are for tube tops, not long sleeved shirts to hide my scars
happiness is not tequila and love is not having *** every other day.
crying wont make me weak
cutting wont make me strong.
even though somedays may feel like razor blades
they aren't j.
please try to live again.

sometimes i wonder if my sadness is the only thing ive truly ever loved.
at night, i breathe in my loneliness as if it was the sweetest air that could pass my lips.
i remember when i first noticed you getting tired of trying to figure out what was wrong.
and at that, the end of most days you would look for new wounds on my body
for all the times you have let me down
but most of all i remember choking...
choking.....
choking on a word i thought would come out so easily....


*stay

Last night was said to be the coldest nights where i live.
we always hope there will be magic on new years eve, and expect clean slates when the clock chimes twelve.
but we will never get that new beginning.
Most of the time cold nostalgia will wrap around us like a shawl that not only keeps us warm, but burns our bodies with their heart.
New years are for more promises.
so im going to promise myself
that ill be better.
it'll be better.
i deserve better.
everything will get better.
take a breath, and focus on those promises j.
12/10/12.

i think thats why i became so ugly,
i was bitter.
because i gave everyone all the good in me
and they took it
and ran with it...
and just left me....
left the bad in me
and that over took me.
it swallowed me whole.

but i have no one to blame, but myself.
the ones who've hurt me,
took a piece of me,
they did.
*but i let them.

I just want to feel special
I want to feel wanted

but  I feel neither.

I don't like the memories
because the tears come out so easily,
       and once again i break my promise.
                    the promises i make to myself.
         its a constant battle
                            a war between
remembering                      and forgetting

I eat, I have clothes, I have a house, I read.
i read about people around the world who survive on less than a dollar a day.
i read about how there are hundreds of millions of widows living in poverty.
i see ads for kids who are born with ragged lips and jagged teeth.
i don't have anything like that.
i just wake up with a deep hatred of myself.
how selfish is that?

depression ***** more violently than a *** craved maniac

reading my old poems make me so sad
because it's only been a year
and I feel just as ******

I dont know where I stand with you
and i dont know what i mean to you
but everytime i think of you
i just wish i was kissing you
and holding you,
caressing your cheek
because you make these long cold days
complete.