the hardest part was starving it
every ideal like springtide flowerets
you turned to archaic grisly gravel
watch them crash through
weathered rooftops
watch them fall

drawing maps with hungry voices
winding staircase. hidden street.
drained from stepping on recurrent
cryptic papers scattered floorboards
no matter how many times they're
cleaned, there they are

bright coral turns vile muddy brown
when it stays in the sun too long
alone, everybody knows that
that's what they thought
beneath a brittle beacon, cloudy day
they'll keep pretending, it'll be okay

I enjoy pointing my toes,
Pushing my hands into my thighs,
And jumping into a spot in the lake,
Where it is seemingly bottomless.

It often feels like the past.
The compression on my cranium is depression.
The depletion of air in my lungs is anxiety.
The vacant water that grasps me are my thoughts.

Floating to the top,
Yearning for my hands to create a whirlpool overhead,
Whose vortex could take me to the past,
To the flaws, tween stages, and grades that didn’t matter.

To inform past me,
That she’ll be okay.
That’d be me,
Pleading to know.

But in this moment,
I seem to be the girl that just,
Involuntarily drowns,
In her own lake of metaphors and insecurities.

I strive for the taste of your tongue
the way your lips feel pressed against mine
I have never experienced anything better.
My heart races as you glide you hands all over my body,
oh how I miss the way you feel beside me.
You never fall short of making me feel so good.
When I look into those light blue eyes
I see myself,
a smile never seeming to leave
and wondering if you ever will.

I am your best kept secret
The one you are afraid to be seen with
The one you can't bring back to your friends
The one you can't tell anyone about.
But I am the one who thought you cared
I am the one who fell head over heels
And I am the one picking myself up off the floor
And strutting out the front door.

I've held your very thoughts in my hands.
They twinkled like the stars and were just as brilliant.
Some were sprinkled with glass and barbed wire.
Those were my favorites.
Some of them were made of clouds and packaged, processed love.
I didn't like them as much, they were expected.
The darkest parts of you were my favorite.
I wanted the real you, the one made of razor blades and painted smiles.
That side of you is the one that caused you to leave.
To leave me.
Suicide isn't easy.
But you sure made it seem that way.

And I gave you all
for you I stood tall
glowing with a passion for you
you were all I saw

but when you looked down on me
you saw nothing to be
just a brunette little girl
you would never set free

every time you lied to me
you'd look me in the eyes
and no guilt you felt
which is why I despise

well you've knocked me down enough
your reign is now at end
I stand tall on my own
I promise it won't happen again

Seven deadly sins, they say,
Those vicious voluptuous ways
We shall all share and spend our days
When the devil is at our door.
For I am guilty of six,
Perhaps more.
And if I plead as guilty
Than I wonder what you say?
"Oh none" said ever so sweetly
In the glowing piety of the day.
But what would we mutter
As the shadows come to play?
And light is but a memory
A silhouette in dark decay.

Would we lust for the last
Vestibules of light?
Would our greed lead us toward
Rage and pride?
Would we fight to the end
For that last bastion of light?
Treading over fallen fables,
All to escape the night?