Why do I feel like this,
like i've lost all my bliss.
To tired to talk,
and just wanting to walk.
Wanting to walk all the way down,
down to the ground, where no one can see ;
all of this pain inside of me.
I know I should feel more alive,
And that this society is so easy to survive,
but I'm not able to fake something that is not there,
to fake that everyone loves you with care.
People say to let yourself be who you want to be,
but if there are friends holding you back,you aren't able to see..
The chances you miss out on,
and the regrets you make.
Are just things to put you down, and feel like you're about to break.
Don't let pain blur your sight,
while you take this journey of a wild flight.
-te

This is the only advice I’ll ever give:
you cannot fall in love with people
who don’t know how to love,
so please, for the sake of him,
and your mother, and expensive therapy bills,
don’t even try.

You can love him, all you like
but you cannot fall in love
with him. You can fall in love
with the idea of him, and fall in love
with the idea of finally fixing him,
and his arms wrapped around you
while you sleep, chasing away the nightmares
that started when you met him.

Love, you deserve a person who
will make you see that the Sun is ready
to heal you all over again each morning,
and who will open your eyes the right way:
with kisses and a cup of tea, someone who will
try their best to love your friends, your family,
and the stranger carrying their groceries.

Don’t allow him to keep
any more pieces of your already cracking heart.
He doesn’t deserve them, not yet.
If he learns to love, and love himself, and learns to
be with people without nearly destroying them in the process,
then rejoice, because you can heal together.

But he doesn’t want help, he doesn’t want you,
you cannot fix him - you can love him, and please do,
I encourage it, but do not fall in love with him
and don’t think you deserve someone better,
because you will not stoop to be bitter and petty,
it’s only that you deserve
someone who is ready.

my heart has become calcified,
and it's begun to sink into other vital organs,
i've tried telling my doctors,
but all they do is give me pills,
and they don't numb the pain,
of this weight inside of my chest,
and sometimes i can feel it,
the subtle yanking of strings,
strings that are supposed to be attached,
to my most private *****,
and strings that are supposed,
to be keeping it in my chest,
and not allowing it to sink,
and crush my stomach,
and rip a hole through my insides,
and **** me.

some people have
really nice clothes
and
really nice cameras
to take pictures of themselves
in their clothes
with
and they
put them all over the internet
so they can say without saying
that they are better
than me
and i guess that's alright.
i don't have that kind of money for clothes
and even if i did
i hope i wouldn't be like them
plastering themselves on facebook
in edgy poses
painted with instagram filters
i hope i would be like i am now
a twenty year old girl
who buys new clothes twice a year
but adopts books like newborn babies
and can smile
genuinely
when the lord wills
a touch of
happiness

i guess what i'm trying to say
is
your designer jeans hurt my feelings
as does your expression
but i wouldn't want to
be you.

i learned about loneliness last night,
belatedly, because no one ever bothered
to explain it to me- it was
something best kept for the time it existed in
the blank space where a hand had once been
a soft shaky touch
now absent

the sorrow comes in sultry waves
with the indigo tide of me missing your breath
on the hollow in my sleepy neck,
a whisper backandforth inandout and then
a hitch, a twitch and the slow descent
from sea-froth into dreamland

we drifted, content, into the
scared scarlet hills where nightmares roam
where i made my home, knowing that
in sleep your whispers still coated my pillowcase
and i was not alone

we sank, satiated, into
the wasteland in our wasted heads
knowing that despite the terror, we could share your bed
knowing that when i woke, gasped, drenched in sweat
you would brush the hair
from my forehead
i'd remember my respite
and we would settle down once again

and as i lie, disconsolate
my ribcage heaving, desolate, i pull your jacket
to my face, breathe in your scent, your comfort
rise from the depths
and thank whatever guides our fate
that i only feel this pain
in the present

warm fingers,
cold cheeks.
cold room,
warm sheets.

quiet kisses,
loud strokes.
loud sighs,
quiet chokes.

quick movements,
slow tongues.
slow kisses,
quick lungs.

***** talk,
clean lips.
clean hands,
***** tips.

playful actions,
serious moans.
serious spanks,
in playful tones.