I haven't seen you in a few days
But I got the update today
He told me all about how desperately
you want to die
As the words exited his mouth
I felt the pit in my stomach caving in on itself
And begging for a bottle of ***
A pack of cigarettes
And a loaf of bread
But don't panic!
I didn't eat any bread

I glanced through the crowd
There you stood
And from across the smoky room
I could feel your heartbeat
Perfectly synchronized with mine

Our eyes met
And at once I knew Your heart
I felt Your Spirit grasping mine

Overwhelmed, I looked away
When I turned back to you, you had gone
Leaving my soul in flames
From your kerosene passion
And the spark in your eyes

My dishonest nature pushes people away
I'm so immature, but I'd beg you to stay
But I guess, I'll leave, and head for the come what may
With nothing but old photographs and memories of yesterday

I feel like a small frightened child, one who has become lost in the deep dark woods of every child’s nightmares, cold, alone, well past “losing one’s cool” and just precious inches away from “flipping one’s ****,” the only things that I possess a flashlight that I cannot figure out how to switch on, a compass that only points backwards and a magical, wish granting genie that only speaks in a language that I have never heard and therefor do not  understand while at the same time am not understood, whose only option to improve his situation is to sit in one spot and wait for help to arrive but what if it doesn’t  so I am forced to action to fashion crude tools and build a shelter and hunt and cook and survive because no one is going to find me and I am not going to find my way out, so I must live in the forest of nightmares and darkness...
...and then I begin to wonder if that small child is not a child at all, but an aging man in a worn bathrobe, alone in a darkened room in an asylum, sitting under a table with a bed sheet hanging over the sides like a makeshift tent, trying desperately to find the “ON” button of an empty pill bottle while I wait for a wound out, wind up clock to find North during the stock market numbers on the local Hispanic radio station, forever stuck in the nightmare forest created by his own mind, which is somehow less terrifying than the reality of his unreality...
...because it is beginning to become very muddled in both of those places and I am beginning to lose track of his self so here looks like a good place to sit down and wait for help to not arrive and over there a good spot to build a temporary cemetery plot to rest my weary hours and while away the bones because unless I figure out a way to sort his self out, I will forget to send for help that I am tired of waiting for and the seconds in the dark that were not there a moment ago and may not be here now will be gone forever when the clock strikes South-East and I am left alone again with only a snot nosed codger and a loony old brat, looking out a window that directly faces a brick wall, watching and praying for the sun to rise on its horizon.

Whether it's the nicotine to cure the itch,
The scars on your wrist that hurt like a *****,
The food that has lost its taste long ago,
Or the love for someone that you cannot show.
"I swear to god this is my last cigarette,
Oh these scars are just from my friends cat.
I'm not over eating, I'm just really hungry you see.
We're just friends, but I'm in love, cant you see?"
Yet you buy another pack,
You mark your skin again,
You eat until you're about to burst,
You cry yourself to sleep because the love just ******* hurts.
Addiction is a demon much fouler than sin.
One who whispers sweetly, yet you must never give in.
You can fight the battle, you can win the war,
You can take an eye for an eye and settle the score.
Put down the cigarette, throw away the blade,
Ease up on the food, the love you can save.
There will come brighter days where the fighting will cease.
And finally, my friend, your life will be at peace.

tell me what keeps you awake at 2 am
whether it’s the girl who took the knife of her absence and stabbed it into your sternum
or the loneliness that swallows your skin

play the one song which releases the floodgates in your eyes
and let me listen to it over and over again
until i find which line makes your heart drop to your stomach

describe the story of your body to me
tell me of the invisible scars too
and with each detail you describe
i will make a map
so i know which road bumps to avoid
or which holy sites to fall to my knees and kiss the ground of

remember that
i wear a mask brimming with self confidence and an armor of words that are both easy to tear for they were thin like tissue to begin with
i am sensitive
taking to hurt the way a sponge absorbs water

do not hide me behind closed doors or keep me entrapped in bed sheets
when you walk past me, do not pull your hood over your head and avert your gaze
i need you to look at my eyes as if they illuminated the entire world
and kiss my lips as if they are what allow you to breathe

open the door.
bring me flowers.
because the only boy who did either was my 5th grade boyfriend

be willing to meet my family and friends
for they were the ones who created the marble statue whom you marvel at today

take note of how my heart is a reflection of myself
how she is too kind and will kiss the same man who tore her in two
so please do not say words which will make her wings flutter
if you are not ready to be the nest she flies to

let me know that me, as myself, i am enough
that i do not need to be a chameleon
dipping myself in new colors each day to please you

remember the little things about me
like how my first phrase i uttered was shut up to a man in an elevator or the delight i take in handwritten letters and mix CDs, or the significance of my first tattoo
because everything about you is being etched into the walls of mind
so that i can never forget

trace your fingers with a loving tenderness over my scars from the times i transformed my body into a crucifix
pinning my hands and feet onto a cross out of habit
thinking love was a word synoymous with self sacrifice

you must learn my language
know what zips my lips into silence
know the difference between when i want to give up versus when i will actually do so
and be there to hold me when the seams start to unravel

if you want me to love you
know that many have tried and failed
that people like me are not meant to be soft
if you want me to love you
know that to me
love is not a word you spit out of your mouth and juggle in your hands
you need to promise that our love won’t be like an hourglass
for my body has been disfgured enough from the times my chest turned inside out from the pang of abadonment
if you want me to love you
reaffirm my body is a kindgom, my heart is the treasure, and that i am your queen
paint pictures for me in what you do and say
telling me i am worthy to be loved, worthy to be kept, and worthy to stay

but if you really want me to fall in love with you
tell me what you see right before you close your eyes at night to fall asleep
and if you tell me it’s me
i will fall unfathomably further for you than i already have

Maybe one day

everyone here-
torn
happy
broken
worried
thinking
thoughtless
angry
emotio­nal-

can get together

we bonded through the internet and the technology

but perhaps one day

we can be more than the poem we liked
a picture on the profile
or a compliment we gave

maybe one day
we can see each other face to face
and become a bit more than a mere stranger
because a poem says more than we can ever say to anyone else
it reveals your inner soul
because each comment has a thought of its own

there has to be some stigma that brought you here
depression
anorexia
loneliness
sadness
felicity

the truth is I don't know your story
but I promise I will tell you mine
when you tell me yours.