I’m sick of “I’m sorry.”
I’m sick of “I care about you.”
I’m sick of “I love you.”
Because you’re not,
And you don’t.

And if you truly are,
Then stop being sorry,
Start growing some *****,
And make it right instead.

And if you truly do,
I don’t want to hear it.
If you do,
Then be here
When I need you the most.

Outside,
A storm is brewing.
Clouds collide as wind unfolds.
Lighting
Strikes a fire in heart,
Burning desires of truth untold.

Inside,
She peers out through fog.
She presses her hand to hardened chill.
Longing,
Frustration forms the mask
Where warm satisfaction used to fill.

Venture
Into dark, raging night,
And hear the drops as they crash to the ground.
Listen,
Spread her arms open wide
But no cold, no drop, no sight, no sound.

Solid,
She stands like a rock.
She stands in the wind and the rain through the storm.
Confused,
She feels no drops on her skin,
No light in her eyes, just sound of the scorn.

Sitting,
She braves the rest of night,
Her only action of blank, empty stares.
Gone,
The feeling, her heart – home –
So nothing she is, and for nothing she cares.

As you pull me close,
Carefully tighten your embrace,
Softly kiss my forehead,
And tell me I’m okay,
Tears fill my eyes,
For all I can think is
“Why is this the only place I feel safe?”

It isn’t mine.

As I lay me down to sleep,
I pray the Lord my soul to keep.
I know I’ll die before I wake,
So, hopefully, my soul he’ll take.
This want in me has never died,
And life drowns in unending lies.
If I don’t, I’ll surely ****
Those who surround and all my will.
No longer can I be a toy,
No longer know this lack of joy.
And maybe this will cure what ails.
An empty bottle, it never fails.
I'm sorry for the mess I'll leave,
The pain I'll cause if you may grieve.
I hope you learn from all that's done,
And this can stop here when I'm gone.
So, yes, I lay me down to sleep,
And forever sleeping shall I be.

Gentle kneading upon my bare back.
The subtle weight shift I feel
As gravity slowly lets your lips press against my shoulder.
The steady beating of my heart.
The pounding in my ears.

Your warm breath chilling my skin
In the best way.
My face buries itself in my hands.
Don’t do this.

But it doesn’t feel wrong.

Head lifting to feel us cheek to cheek.
Whispers in my ear.
You turn me over,
Forehead pressed to mine.
“Why are you doing this?”
“Why are you letting me?”
A moment of clarity
That causes hours of confusion.

I give in.

Shadows dance across the walls.
Passion, affection, lust.
Love?
The smooth sensation of our skin colliding.
Heavy breathing.
My legs wrap around your waist as you lift me.
I missed these lips.
I missed these hands.
I missed these eyes.

I can still sense it.
It won’t leave me.

Bring on the darkness.
Let the shadows dance once more.

But all I feel is a heart in my chest.
Ba-doom, ba-doom, ba-doom…

Is this how I want to leave my legacy?
But is a legacy worth leaving
Once it’s been tattered and crumbled?
Is that all I am now? A worthless mistake?
Is this even worth writing?
Or am I just further consuming in the terror of “I”?

A fiction novel of a young girl and OD –
All the reasons, hatred, and pain behind it,
The scars they kept tearing open
So she never stopped bleeding,
And the devastation it caused to those who cared –
Would naturally impact the reader.
But when the reaction goes more like,
“I wish I was her,”
It’s not exactly normal.

And then I wonder.
Do any of you actually deserve an explanation?
Is it worth my last moments when you’ve given me few?
When your moments have simply minimized my life
To the putrid carcass it’s become of late?
Manipulation and lies.
That’s all I was worth to any of you.
…When you acknowledged my existence, at least.

Who is the stranger my reflection resembles?
Because I don’t recognize the hatred in those eyes.
She’s dead to herself and most of those around,
So we might as well make it official.
Agreed?

A stranger within and without, so withdraw.
I guess that’s what happens when you spend four years of life
Being lied to, lied about, and lying the pain away.
When you aren’t drinking it away, that is.

It’s when you wake up every day, wishing you hadn’t,
Wondering why you haven’t fixed that yet.
When the people you care for the most in this world
Just lie, manipulate (or try to, at least),
And use your life to no visible end.
When they cheat with you, or try to cheat with you,
While you weren’t enough for them in the first place.
When you know the truth, but you know you’ll never hear it
Because you’re no longer more important than an illusion –
One of power and control that precedes a human life.
When people don’t care,
And when they do, they don’t tell the truth,
And they sure as hell don’t show it.

This is who you become.

And this is all you want.
And you blame no one but yourself.
Because you can’t pinpoint where these desires come from.

No, people don’t want me.
They want to do me.

And to those of you who don’t believe a word of my wants,
I hope you find my lifeless body,
And tears of blood stain your face
Like the knives I’ve dragged across my skin.
But unfortunately, I’m not going to give the satisfaction
Of you fazing me that much.
Because, clearly I’m waiting around for something,
Whatever it may be.

I hope you got what you wanted.
I hope it was worth it.

Can you feel me now?
Do you hear me now?
Will you see me now?
Will you bleed for me now?

I dare you to stop me.

I’m not scared of leaving this world.
But I am scared of leaving before I tell how I actually feel,
When I’m not releasing the infuriation I hold so delicately within.
Is this how I feel?
Or am I lying again?
Do I really plan to do this?
Or am I just reaching out for anyone who cares?
Do I really believe this about those in my life?
Or am I creating a story for an anger-filled poem?
Is this what I really want?
Or is this just easier than telling the truth?
Who knows,
Since no one tells it.
Maybe someone should actually talk to the girl sometime.
Maybe she’ll tell you how she really feels
Beyond this blistering, blunt falsehood.

If you come clean, so will I.
Because somewhere deep down,
That reflection’s not me.
Somewhere deep down
I still believe.

Was it worth it when you shed a tear and pushed me from my own
Straight into the unknown abyss of the who-am-I’s
And where-do-I-go-from-here’s?

Was it worth it to give your heart but so swiftly tear it away
At the unexpected moment when “I love you”
Was “I still do” but “what you had to do”?

Was it worth it when you made it all one-sided and alone,
That you weren’t ready and didn’t want it
When you began it all?

Was it worth it when you changed the past to make me someone different,
A crazy, clingy girl revolved around
The perfectly realistic guy?

Was it worth it when you lied to me and everyone around,
When you spied on personal accounts
And manipulated them so?

Was it worth it when you lied about her, making me a cheater
When I didn’t even know,
Caught up in my tears and tequila?

Was it worth it when you tried to tell me that it never happened,
And I never told my secrets,
A delirious, drunken girl?

Was it worth it when you manipulated my messages but claimed of no such thing,
That you don’t care at all, never will,
And haven’t all along?

Was it worth it when you called me a mistake, a ****, and failure
When I once was a “guardian angel,”
Loved, your “home,” and family?

Would it be worth it if I left forever and murdered every possibilty of returning?
Would you once again let a cold, salty line be drawn straight down your face?
Would you regret any of it?

Was it worth it when I believed in it? And that I had it for you?
You bet your *** it was.
I miss you, you lying ****.
But you deserve every ounce of happiness and success this world can offer.
And if you’re getting there, I could ask for nothing more.
And through my cold demeanor, I'd be nothing but ecstatic for you.