Maybe it is just my
Contorted mind
But every time I think
Of *** with a man
I think of pain
And crying with screaming
Alongside ****** sheets
And torn shirts
With my own demented
Version of my reflection
Underneath yelling
Only in my head
Oh dear god make this stop
With grunts in my ear
And sweat that is everywhere.

It hurts.
So I'm sorry.
My answer is still no.

It doesn't feel like
We agreed on it
It feels like I talked
To you in a dream
And I'm still doubting
What I know to be true
But I'll wait anyway
In hopes that I didn't
Dream and you will
Be waiting for me
When I get to see you
Smile again like I used to.

I'm sorry Anna
I tried to be strong
But they were too pretty
In my hand
And they had this
Way of reminding me of you
So I'm hoping they'll bring
You to me
For another night in my dreams.
That's all I ask for.
Just one more.

Just one more.

Before you ask










no.

YOU ARE STRONG
i want you to remember that
you dont need them
you dont *need her
you can make it alone
like you did all those years
alone with your mother
youll be okay
*alone

My breathing
           Was only
                  Labored
                        With your
                 Hands up
         My shirt.

All I ask
Is for a text message
Once or twice
Every two weeks
Telling me how she is
And if she is okay.
Because I love her
And I miss her.
So just answer me
With a yes and
A promise.
And I'll be okay.

Truthfully
I wish this
Piece of
Cardboard
Was my
Wrist.

Every time he says the
Misconstrued and fragmented
Phrase "Sok"
I hear your voice.
I hear that little girl voice
You would use when you
Were playful and you
Wanted something from me.
You always knew it would work.

The way he kept looking
At me on Friday;
It was the same look you gave
Me on a different Friday
Because I couldn't help
But feel the love in my eyes
That I'm still unable to describe.
You caught me staring
A little too closely and
Had my heart beating
So quickly.
I blush horribly but
You always seemed to be
Able to make me do it.

I notice how that pretty girl
Across the food court from me
Had hair that was purely
Brown with no highlights
And it was perfectly straight
With no wave to it.
She was only pretty in
The way of conformity then.
She didn't have your
Lighter streaks and her
Hair wasn't a mess.
It didn't look almost gray
Under the lights
Of a football stadium.

I can't write the word gray
Without thinking of you.
The first time I wrote it
In this poem, I wrote it
With an A.
You know I spell it with an E.
Unless I'm thinking of you.
Grey seems a little too
Wrong to write now.

He isn't playful enough.
But only in comparison to you.
She isn't pretty enough.
But only when next to your beauty.
No one has the right set of teeth.
No one has the right color eyes.
No one blushes all the time.
No one has the right hand shape.
No one has the right hair.
No one has the right body.
No one has the right soul.
No one has the right mind.

No one but you.

I told you that you would
Always be in my way
They are all flawed
In every way
Because no one has the same set of
Constellations between their bones
That I can call
Some kind of a home.
It will never be a bad thing.
I'm just strung up on the girl
I love.
Because I do.
I love her.
And nothing you can
Say
Or do
Or lock away
Will stop me from
Giving her my heart.

I'm still holding on.

I
TOLD
YOU
IT
WOULD
BE
LIKE
I
DREAMT
HER
AND
WOKE
UP.

I never got the chance
To tell her
That secretly
I call her my angel.
She never did like
Nicknames
But she tolerated
Girlie and baby
Because she loved me.
Angel seemed a little
Too far for us.
But in my head
That was what she was.
She saved me from
The demon my
Mother's many
Marriages had planted.
She made me see light
On my darkest nights
And I let her.
She held me in her arms
And promised to
Protect me and
Guide me when I was lost
As long as I helped her
From time to time.
But even if I didn't
Always know what
To say
She always watched
Over me
And protected me.

So yes,
She was my secret angel.
And one day
I will get the chance
To explain
That to her.

I've never seen a clock in that room
The only way I keep time is the
Clomping of the foot steps
Of a woman-
No, wait, those are a man's-
That passes overhead
Every quarter hour for some reason.
I think those are the steps
Of some kind of politician.
All I know is that it is a man.

I feel the words droll out of my
Mouth and between my teeth.
Hasn't anyone ever heard
What I have to say?
No? Well that's unhealthy.
So I hear my own life
Fill the space between
My corpse and this
Stranger and somehow
I feel a little bit better.

A breath fills me and
My heart is of a normal beat
And it feels like I can walk
Without falling down.
Who knows, maybe I will try
The next time I get off
Of this couch.
I've been killing my feet
By touching the floor
Without the ability to
Really walk and now
I can feel the world open up.

I have had this feeling before
And it would come as fast as
It took my hand to glide
A blade over my skin and
For that same skin to split open.
But it would leave after a second.
Maybe it would last as long
As it took me to clean up the blood.
But it never lasted.
I had to go deeper.
And deeper.
And deeper.
Just to get the same feeling
Twice or three times.
It was never enough.

Walking out of this room is different.
I hear the man's foot steps
For the third, or fourth, time,
Depending on my stability
That day and
My feet hit the floor.
I am walking.
I feel awkward about grabbing
The door handle before the stranger.
But I decide that's okay.
I walk out.
I go home.
And I'm still okay.

"You... Have no idea what to do right now."

"I don't want you to do anything because you feel like you have to for me."

"I love you."

"I hate pickles. And olives. So we are going with the pickle theory instead."

"This is just a road block. A delay in success."

"During connections the other day when you caught me looking at you, I was actually staring."

*that look she gets when I do something wrong, or right, or ****, or she just doesn't know exactly what she wants to say because I do something to her that even I don't understand

"This is just a road block. A delay in success."
I remember the day she first told me that.
And how I couldn't help but smile.
No, this isn't it for us.
One day she will hold my hand again.
And I'll be able to kiss her with people watching.
Who knows, maybe we'll wear white
As our loved ones watch us kiss.

I don't know much.
But I know that this situation
Will not last forever.
And I know we will be together
Again, one day.

"This is just a road block. A delay in success."

"It gets better."
Her words still play
In the back of my mind
Every time that song plays
And I can feel the
Room around me.

Those words are stitched
Into my brain like
My mom told me never
To allow needles to tattoo me.
But it's okay.
Because my life isn't over
And this is just high school
The world isn't crumbling down
At least not on all sides.
I have something to
Hold on to.

"It gets better."

"Everything happens for a reason."
It's this broken record in my head
Repeating those words like
They are all I'm ever going to need.
Right now that is all I really do
Because she got out of that house
If only for a few months
And she is getting the help
That she needs and deserves.
So, yes, I believe that
Everything happens for a reason.

She cannot speak or see me
Until she gets better and
I'm okay with that for right now.
Because that's what we both need
And I've got something,
Anything, to hold onto.

"Everything happens for a reason."

I
Can't
See
How
I
Am
Going
To
Accept
That
You
Won't
Show
Up
Again
One
Day.

I keep sticking things
Down my throat
Like being
Skinnier
Will make them
See that I'm not
That bad for her

I keep stabbing blades
Into my stomach
Like if I
Pretend
To be okay
She might
Come back after
The break

I keep throwing
***** and orange juice
Down my
Throat
Like if I'm drunk
Enough I'll
Come up with
The right words
You need to hear

I keep smoking
All of this
****
Like if I get
High enough
I won't have to
Think about
Her leaving me

I keep dreaming
Of doing all
Of these
Things
Like if I dream
I did it enough
Times I could
Make sense
As to why I
Have to stop

You are a horrible man
And I hate you
I hate what you do to her
You are pathetic
And I feel nothing for you
Other than pure hatred
***** pitying you
You don't deserve my pity
Like you don't deserve the love
She is always going to have
For you in some way.

I don't know who decided
That "daddy issues" were hot
Because I have seen the
Girl of my dreams break down
Before me because of you
And it has me worried
Every
Single
Night
That I will see her the next day
And she will be bruised and beaten
And there will be nothing
I
Can
Do
About
It
Because
All
She
Wants
Is to be
Anything
But like
*You.

crawling
dear god help her
she cant find legs
and she cant find any sound
the world has shut her out
what is she to do
when theyve stripped
her of all she loves

breaking
someone save her
im watching
from the sidelines
and im surrounded by
this thick glass
and there is no where
to go
so i watch her struggle
and for once
i can feel the tears
on my cheeks

crushing
stop stepping on her bones
they were fragile
back when i got the chance
to handle them
between the dark nights
and the tired days
she never let me
hold them for more
than an hour
but you've had them
for far too long
and im afraid of
your damage

shattering
cant you see what
you have done to her
shes been brainwashed
and beaten by them
and all you do is
watch behind this glass
you could have
stopped this
saved her the trouble
i could have

dead*
but i didnt
and
i
dont
know
what
to
do
other
than
watch
at
this
point

I woke up this morning
With my heart beating too slow
And my breath coming
In short gasps
Ribs were breaking
Inside of me
And I couldn't stop them
My hands were pressing
Against my chest
But I couldn't beat
A steady rhythm into it

A straight tempo
When everyone knows
That there is an odd
Thump that coincides
With a healthy heart
A tempo of 58
Slow and solemn

My breathing was labored
Like I was being drowned
But there was no water
On or near my kitchen table
Just me,
The pain leaking
Out of the cracks
In my body
And some blood
That I was too tired
To let out of my skin.

It's dark in this room
I don't know what
Monsters
Hide in the corners
That my little sister
Used to be afraid of
And I don't know what
Is crawling in my closet
All I know is that
I don't care enough
Anymore

The demons in my
Head hold a darkness
Greater than the
Absence of light.

Can we just sleep together?
I don't mean sexually.
I mean can I lay next to you
And feel you next to me
While we talk until one
Of us cannot keep our eyes open
And we fall asleep to
The sound of one another
Breatgung?
Can we just sleep together?
It doesn't have to be ******.
I mean, it doesn't have to be ******.
I just want to close my eyes
At night knowing I will
Wake up next to you.
I haven't slept well in months
And, if you, or my heart, would
Have let me,
I would have slept on your
Bed instead of kissing you
On it.
There is a certain amount
Of rest that I get with you
That I can't find in my own sheets.
I'm just begging for
A little bit of sleep
Just as long as you sleep with me.

Drops of rain
Are still hitting
My face

They are the closest
Thing I have
To tears

I've been waiting
For Heaven
To open
The floodgates
And save me
From the sin
I'm drowning in

But I've come
To realize
That it the flood
That needs to take
Over my
Broken heart
Will never
Be powerful
Enough to live
An eternity

The dams will
Break and I
Will find myself
Building them
Back with a stronger
Concrete if
The past proves
To any constilation

So no more
Floods and no
More drizzles

I need down
Pours of Your
Love and grace
That will continue
Until my
Never dying heart
Stops beating

I've always loved
The rain too much
To stop it
From covering me

Sometimes
You
Just
Have
To
Kind
Of
Exist
So
Maybe
One
Day
You
Can
Live.

But
I
Have
This
Urge
To
Exist
Until
My
Walls
Crash
Down.

I've never been one
For making first moves
Or for being competent
When I was expect to be.

I've never been one
For giving my all
Or for opening up my heart
When that's all they want.

I've never been one
For showing my thoughts
Or for giving up my writing
Which makes up my entire being.

I've never been one
For angry fits and cussing
Or for staying around
When things get too rough.

I've never been one
For moving too fast
Or for letting anyone
Truly understand why.

I've never been one
For hand holding
Or kissing in public
When we aren't together.

I've never been one
For love and romance
Or for lust and passion
When the time called for it.

I've never been one
For a lot of things
But you have me
Wishing I could be.

We both have this
Idiotic
Tendency to forget
What has to be
Done
To make everyone else
Okay
When all we want
Is to have that for
Ourselves.

Sitting and watching beauty pass me by
Had always been a simple task
When it came to beautiful music
And trees that acted like knives against
The blue and white sky that
Made sense in my eyes at the time
But the edges of the trees,
Toward the bottom, of course,
Had a tendency to be cut off by
Glass and the material her
Dash board was made if
She threw ice at their trunks
Who ever told her about their love of cold?
Who could when the love never existed?
I lost sight of the oak trees
I climbed before her demons took
Over what I knew of her and myself
The blue and white of my pure sky
Vanished behind red, the color
Of some adolescent's blood
And a grey shade of hatred
Brought by a lover's dead eyes.
The needles of the branches
Cowarded behind the idea that
Her type of winter could never come
Until the thrashing wind was
Knocking against the glass and
The dash board froze over
With too many diamonds and rubies.
Sitting and watching her destruction
**** all I'd ever loved in my world
Had always been a simple task.

Until the glass came shattering in.

I told you that
I could live to just be
A pair of hands
So I could feel
The curves and contours
Of your body
And trace how your
lips move when you say
My name
And to be able to
Hold you to me
And to have your skin
Connecting with mine
To have my fingertips
Touch the edges of
Your being
And to feel the way
Your entire nature
Seems to be able
To be touch
Somehow
Especially
If I lived
To be only
A pair of hands

My makeup started running
This is why you never wear it
No, this is why you never cry

My cheeks turned red
This is why you don't need blush
No, this is why you seem so shy

My hands started to sweat
This is why you never wear gloves
No, this is why you keep to yourself

My heart started racing
This is why you never let anyone near
*No, this is why you let someone
Get to know you.

There are just
Some things
That shouldn't be
Written down
Or made into a poem
Because the
Thoughts inside
My head are too
Complex
For the language
Settings on my computer
Or for the lead
In my pencil to have
Enough force
Behind it
To make the words.

So my makeup did look pretty today
Who knew that I could curl my own hair
And that I don't do a horrible
Job at making myself up?
I shouldn't be allowed at weddings.

None of you have guessed that
No one has ever told me that
I will grow up to be an alcoholic.
I have told myself that because
I just want some kind of something
That is mine and no one
Will be able to steal it from me.
And addictions seem like a good way
To go about that.

How many times?
Does the girl you love?
Ask to see?
What you do when?
You forget she?
Exists?
And what kind?
Of look does she?
Give to your demons?
When she faces?
Them and sees?
What they have?
Done to you?

Oh, wait?
What do you mean?
She hasn't seen?
Them yet?

If I could write a poem
To tell you all the love
Metaphors that your best friend
Asked for,
I still would only be
Able to have one line
With just one word
Which is still more
Than enough for me.

I want to convince her that this is wrong
That she shouldn't do this to herself
But I don't know what to do
To convince her of this truth
So I end up doing the same thing.

It feels right to not belong
Next to my name
Because it never feels
Like you are talking to me
When you call it out.

What would you do if I told you that I couldn't look you in the eyes today, not because of your hand on my leg or my tendency to be awkward, but for the fact that I saw your arm and I can't stand the idea that you hate your own skin that much to tear it open and it makes me a hypocrite, I know, but you deserve better than that and you need to get better and you told me that you did it once and you can do it again, but it doesn't seem like there is an effort, and if there is, it means you are worse, and I don't like your arm looking anything like mine and I wish I could take this pain away and I would do anything to convince you to try to stop, and I would be willing to lose everything I have just so you would stop causing yourself harm, or better yet, not feel the need to because if it is still an option, you are just resisting and not living and you need to do that and, no, we are not just put on this world for others because otherwise we wouldn't tear apart our flesh to feel something, anything, because we have trained ourselves not to feel, and I don't want to wait until August or January, because you will have moved on, or I will have, or one of us will be dead or so cut up that we cannot look at each other without weeping and it's funny if you think I can't cry because I have sobbed far too many times over you and the idea that the sickness that lives on me is still inside of you somewhere, and I just want us to be okay, and for us to not lie, and for you to smile and for me to smile back, no matter what, and for me to kiss you without it being insane?