I pried out my own skin
wide open
with needles dipped
in cheap india ink; I dabbed
at the black mixed with red
staining my fingers.
Do I do this for the pain,
or to get the poison trickling in
to my skin, to my veins?
A symbol, an alphabet.
Vast meanings that I tried to bestow
upon them hours later
really means nothing at all.

There's the cause and the effect,
which really goes both ways.
The pain for the gain
of the blurred out ink under my skin,
and the gain for the pain
of the sharpness prickling

my ankles, both legs
bare the stain of alcohol tinged
nights.
The skin beneath my eyelids
a darkened haze;
but the tattoo still burns
needle-sharp against it all.

Someone just said something about me,
It’s starting to drive me crazy,
Oh please don’t make it start again,
This isn’t a feeling that can be supported by any men,

My thoughts are beginning to race,
At much too fast of a pace,
I keep trying to make it stop,
I can already feel myself drop,

It’s called anxiety,
Oh there goes gravity,
Here comes insanity,
And everyone’s pity,

I’m starting to lose control,
I can’t feel myself as a whole,
I need help,
I need help,

Here we go again,
I can’t wait for,
The moment when,
My head stops its own war,

It’s called anxiety,
It’s not ending anytime now,
It’s being juged in our society,
It’s not something we should allow,

It’s called anxiety,
Oh there goes gravity,
Here comes insanity,
And everyone’s pity

There was just you and me.
No one could beat us,
We ran the world.
Found new adventures along the way;
I gave you my life and you yours.
Even through the dark,
We helped each other through.
The battles were strenuous,
We were strong.
Our bond had its test,
Through them we beat all.
Then that faithful day,
When you drew your weapon.
You drew then sliced it right through me.
Into my back,
Past my heart.
I can't breathe,
You can't take it back.
I can't see,
You try and fight,
For us.
But what's left,
When half of us is dead & gone.
Through every battle,
Nothing could break us.
Through every adventure,
Not ten obstacles could stop us.
But you,
You felled us.
And sitting in recovery,
Belief in the impossible,
I just can't believe.
The knife you stabbed me with,
Showed no mercy.
Even with your words,
The weapon said so much more.

I don't know why people
Strive for perfection
Or how easy it is for some
All I know is that I can't stand it.

When I try,
My body flares up like bombs--
Internally, never externally--
And hides my true colors
To create a cascade of catastrophe
It's like living in a ******* up world
The only difference is that
I actually get to block it out.

I don't remember waking up in the morning
With a smile on my little innocent face
And thinking about how easily I had it
It's too late now, I suppose, to care
Yet I still do.

Have you ever tried to write a poem
On the back of a pack of matches?
Have you ever cried for nights
Til you couldn't breathe?
It's all about you and never about me
And that makes the tears fall for days
Try this.

They say we are reckless
Stupid.
Throwing everything away for one thing.
But we are but dreamers.
Dreaming of love and the idea of something binding us together.
Our hearts ache for that.
They hunger.
Thats why they beat out of our chest and naw at our ribs because we want what we need and we can't always get what we want.
So we become reckless,
stupid
Wild hearts
-Kennedy Grace