for once,
say i am a snowflake;
fragile and
cold,
awkwardly unique.
but even if i was a snowflake
or not,
i met every time we touch.

ink fell from her eyes

onto the dead page.

and from her tears,

their story came to life

in a way it never would

in the real life

she always tried to run from.

you are just

a beautiful

autumn lead

caught in the wind

slowly

making your way to the ground

and away from me.

feeling kind of bad today,
in a suicidal and depressed way.

the blood and tears,
mixed with the sound
of music and sobs
make it harder to
understand the cause.

not really sure why
i'm actually still alive.
im just a ****** up mess
on this ****** up earth.

cold stream of air,
clear, raw sky, rare
wisps and little shrouds
or shawls of clouds
fast fleeting.

low sun lancing,
screened less
by intervening
trees' unleaved undress.

I stand in fleece
and boots, out back
a breath, a break
of afternoon, the stir,
to mark the slide away
of bright and shivering day.

She stood in the bathroom looking at the mirror.
Her eyes scanned over her reflection and she instantly picked out her flaws.
Tears pricked at her eyes as she remembered the names being passed around the school.

She groped some of her skin. I  could  lose  more  fat.   Then  they'll  start  calling  me  skinny  instead, she thought.

As she continued to ***** her skin, tears rolled down her cheeks.
She looked at her body in full hatred and disgust.

the past haunts me
in my head
in my dreams
no explanations,
to be made.

the present mocks me
at my life
in my face
no empathy
to fall from grace.

the future scares me
in my eyes
through my lies
no more running
it's time.