For my "Big Brother".*
Love Always, *****.

You said it was adorable
The way my hair curled
around the hollows of my neck
Brushing across my skin
like a
n o o s e

You said my looks could shatter glass,
that my repugnant features
would SURELY guarantee a life of solitude
You loved to point out my flaws
And how my laugh was too late
breathing too loud
walking too fast

The shallow scars on my wrists
were alluring to you
you encouraged me to make more
and I loved the kiss of cold metal just a little too much
and
you
loved
that
I
loved
it.

You said you understood me
my thoughts were dark and scattered
I wasn't always able to share them with you
But I didn't need to
you already
"u n d e r s t o o d"

my dark companion
the only one I ever trusted
We fought our demons together
Dragging the other to hell as well

You wasted no time in telling me
what a waste I was
of skin
of space
and I wasted no time in  b e l i e v i n g  you

You would hold me in your arms
and whisper bittersweet nothings
compliments with a hard slap attached
convincing me I was far more flawed than I am.

We fought like rabid wolves
growling,
hissing,
howling,
circling,
nipping at my ankles,
you'd force me to f a l l.

tearing and ripping apart flesh
with words
and my feeble palms
left angry red marks on your chest and face
but my struggle only made you more eager

Every tear that fell from my face
gave you life
every sob that came from my throat
gave you a voice
you could not stand alone
you said
y o u  c o u l d   n o t   l i v e   w i t h o u t   m e

You said I didn't understand you
that I could never comprehend the torment YOU
were experiencing
I was FAR too dull to see.

It wasn't until I realized
I didn't need to play your childish games
I didn't need you
or your "passionate, intense" heart.

Once I stopped hitting back
your blows became harder

Not worthy of love.

Not worthy of life.

Not worthy of existence.

And I believed you.
I trusted you.

E n d   i t,
you said.
Peering down at the street far below us

You said to.

The height was dizzying

Y o u   s a i d
"Jump."

Insomnia, my greatest enemy, dearest friend has come along to visit again.
She appears at my bedside each night and waits beside me as the darkness encroaches.
My comforter is thick and warm, inviting toward her, she comes next to me, I can feel her above me, whisking the tired feelings away.
She slips into the corners of my mind and takes my body for a ride, just lying there for endless hours, waiting for a sign of sun.
I am sweating but the dark is far too cold to relieve the covers of their duty.
The darkness is thick and cold and chills my bones to the core as I stand up.  
I have become far too restless just lying and I need to move, Insomnia what is your purpose?
Three am showers have become a habit, almost like a ritual as I take the walk down the hall trying hard not to make a sound.    
The door creeks as I open it, my feet freezing on the tile floors as I step inside.
I strip my sweaty thermal off my back, a difficult task because it had begun to stick to my skin.
I turn the water to the highest temperature, even that won’t be hot enough to escape the dark chill in my bones.
As I wait for the water to become satisfactory I count tiles like I have so many nights before.
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28…
Tonight’s magic number, the water has become slightly shy of scalding and I step in and just feel.
Sensations over run my body, rigid from the sudden change in atmosphere
Relaxed because the heat feels good
I give in and take a seat on the warm, stark white surface
It feels good to just sit in the haze of vapor
Insomnia loosens her grip as the water makes me number than I was before
The water goes cold; I suppose I have sat too long pondering my woes and worries
So I stand which is quite the task, the same each night
I turn off the water absorbing the last of the heat and savoring each second
I step out and go through the motions of drying myself
Begin at my hair and work toward my toes
I put on sweatpants and a new t-shirt
I brush my hair
The door creeks open once more and I return to my room
My bed welcomes me and insomnia has left my bedside, finally tiring from fighting my body, off to infect another I suppose
Good night, until tomorrow my dear friend, great enemy.

Sometimes the mornings are restless
and the hangover is heavy
and the heart is heavy

And everything goes quiet
The body goes quiet
Maybe the sheets rustle
But the body is quiet
In silent prayer

This headache a revival
Back into existence

She has awaken already
She does not even leave her scent behind

I am thankful
Mostly for the quiet
As the sun illuminates the blinds
Like the beginning of light
exploding through a wall

And I am thankful
That no matter where these nights take me
Every morning
feels like home

The frustration you get
When you wake up in the middle of the night
And can't fall back to sleep.

You look at the clock,
Hoping,
It'll soon be time to get up.
But then you realize
It's not even near that time.

It's like the sun knows when you're awake and,
Just to be a ******,
Takes its time coming up.

So you lie there...
Trying to get some rest.
You squirm and change positions,
But still...
Nothing happens.

You begin to think about
Your life,
Your future,
The world,
Everything...

Then, all the bad thoughts become worse.
You think...
Maybe something might happen,
Or something may already have happened.

You try harder to fall asleep,
But you can't stop.
Can't stop thinking.
And you feel...
Upset...
Overwhelmed...
And you can do nothing
to stop all the horrible thoughts from coming through.

Then you're at the stage where now,
Your thoughts aren't coming in patterns anymore.
They scatter...
Like a nebula.

So you lie there.
You've given up.
You feel hopeless...
Like no one could ever help you.
So you just wait...
Wait for everything to be over.

I miss the cold nights
Laying in the vacant bed
Of *** stained sheets
Staring at the moon through the window
I miss the way I slept
In every part of my room
Like a rock in the desert
Falling off the side of the sand dune blankets
I miss the rants of my insanity
The psychotic lullaby of the moon
Calling down onto me
To hunt a victim of purity
Plague them with the emptiness of insanity
I MISS ME
The old me
Of no heart and soul
No regret from anything he did
But now I have me
The man I wish I never was
Because I have nothing to offer her
And I know I love her
I know she loves me
But what am I to do
When I have nothing left of even me
I miss me
He always knew what to do
Oh well she fell in love with me
Not the old me
And I will do whatever it takes
To give her what she truly deserves
I miss me...because the I'm incomplete
Without her next to me

He colors the room
with his painted garb
and painted white face.
Making the kids laugh

A piercing laughter
after every joke.
As he hops and skips.
As the kids chuckle .

With every gag and
every joke they lash
out in high pitch squeals.
As the clown dances and bounces.

But nobody sees the frown
under the painted  smile.
Nobody sees the pain.
Under the colored garb.

I want to write this poem
Like a band-aid
For a knuckle scrape the stucco frustration

The adrenalin shiver
Maybe you look at your fingertips
And know you'll never be a doctor

A poem that finds you peaceful

We go to exrtremes so often
This middle ground has leeway
Move around in it

There are things I need to say
Halfwritten letters
Stacked inside a gut-heavy dumbwaiter
And if I ever found the courage to pull the rope
I might choke

This poetry gets scared sometimes
I know you get scared sometimes
There are memories you re-live
Like a masochistic dvr
Or a photo album labeled
"Let's not go back to this place"

I want there to be poems in response to this

A literary anitbiotic
For the sickness we create

There is a reason chemistry makes use of the alphabet

And I find myself searching for the language
Like a child holding his head up to the rain with his mouth open
And wondering why he never feels a single drop touch his tongue
Like a scientists he decides that the water evaporates because of the heat in his breath
So he holds it

It has taken me years to finally understand
You don't need to hold your breath
But you do need to be still
And the reason you think the rain never touches your tongue
Is because your tongue is already wet

And you
Every moment of you
Already is poetry