a chair with 5 legs
beckons out to me,
and i wonder if you've ever
sat upon it.

a table with 4 legs
screams my name,
and i wonder if your back
has ever arched on it.

then i remember..
i'm in a doctors' office,
and you weren't
into public display of affection.

Monsters have to receive an invitation
Before coming inside
That's what I read in stories
But I never let you in my mind
You didn't come all at once
You came like a thief in the night
But you waited patiently
To start shutting off the lights
You manifested yourself
In comments my mother made
In that sinking feeling I felt
That cut me like a blade
Now that I think of it
You were always there
Reminding me of nights I cried
idontcareidontcareidontcare
You broke the rules
I never gave you an offering
But you didn't care
And now I'm housing all this suffering
I can't think straight
And all my walls are crumbling
It's permeable
And the rain keeps pouring
This sorrow is going to drown me
And I think I might just let it
In a place I can only hear my heart beating
Where I can't take any more hits
It's a truth I can no longer deny
As I'm swimming in this sea
I do not have depression
Depression has me

I've been thinking:
Maybe I should get clean
and do things that I've been meaning to do for ages.
Face this wasted use of
faithless self-abuse and try something new
more in tune with truth.
Get fit and quit these substances.
Toss off these over-abundances.
Catch some calm and put a halt to this being wild.
Stop forcing laughs and faking smiles.
Make a path to find some inner-peace.
Get some rest and set this mind at ease.

Sometimes, when I say your name,
you wince.
(I want to force you into a corner and press up against you)
Your face in a grimace;
you cringe,
(I want to ravage you savagely)
as if you're in pain.
(I want to turn into sand and bury you alive)
(I want to take these two hands and tear you apart)
It's quite rude, really,
(I want to bite off your lips and devour your heart)
but I don't hold it against you.
It seems involuntary.
(I want to explode on you then swallow what's left)
I think there might be something wrong with you.
(I want to **** all the life right out of your breath)
More than anything though,
(I want to turn into a river and drown you in the flood)
I'd like to know
(I want to spread through your body, bones, and blood)
why.

When I'm falling fast, and it gets real bad;
I go through my chopped up and blended days awaiting one thing:
For someone to come up,
put their hands on my shoulders,
and shake me vigorously.

I can hear them yelling (or screaming) at me.
They're saying:
"What the hell are you doing!
What the **** is your problem!?
Why are you doing this to yourself?
It's sad and pathetic. I'm sick of it.
It makes me angry.
Just stop it!
Stop it already!"

I'll attempt to explain, through the shakes, with a ******* answer,
but they won't have any of it.

"You're fine! Okay?
There's nothing wrong with you!
There is absolutely nothing wrong with you!
You're just ******* scared!
You hear me,
tough guy?
You're a ******* coward!
Grow up.
Man up.
Just stop it already.
Enough is enough.
Just stop."

And it's like somehow, if this were to happen, I'd suddenly be fixed.
As if in the shaking,
the ***** that had come loose would get knocked back into its groove.

Except, the thing is, that this does happen.
It's happening practically the whole time.
Only, not in the exact way that you pictured it.
So you shrug it off. Dismiss it.
Because the person shaking you wasn't the one you wanted to be shaken by.
You say,
"Who the **** are they?
Who do they think they are?
To tell me off like that;
look at you!
Why would I ever consider taking advice from you.
As if you know better,
you don't know ****!
*******!"

And it's sad really,
but ultimately true.
The only person capable of doing the shaking is you.

nights like these when
I want to drown my sorrows
in copious amounts
of *****
but I also want to drown myself
in copious amounts
of you.

S.W.

i think it was the way
your hands
suffocated me.
or maybe it was the way
your bones would crush
against my own.
a broken fragment
of your soul
could slice me open in seconds.

it was beautiful.
oh,
so beautiful

"you're like an earthquake
making cracks in the earths crust,
and i'm in the aftershock"

and i cried.