Even if you have loose skin
On your lips
Or they're slightly chapped,
I'd still hold my lips on yours
And feel your breath
Go in and throughout me,
Because for that moment
Nothing would be between
You
And me
And we'd be connected
In any way we want
And maybe
I could know what it feels like
To be so beautiful
In every possible
Way.

         - J. J.

Tell me that you don't want me
Tell me that you think
I'm not worth all the pain
And the ******* fear
Tell me that you can do better
Than who I've always been
Tell me I'm not worth your time
Tell me I was another mistake
Tell me I was just another game
Tell me anything
To make this pain go away.

Tell yourself that you will be okay
Tell yourself that I'm a horrible person
Tell yourself that I'm just
A notch in a bedpost
Tell yourself that you won this round
Tell yourself that you won the war
That I don't want to fight anymore
Tell yourself that I don't want
Any of what you give me
Tell yourself lies until it disappears.

Tell lies to your parents
Tell lies to your friends
Tell lies to me
Tell lies to yourself
Tell lies like you were
Born to **** me off
Tell lies like you do.

It seems to work well.
I just don't want to feel
This anymore.

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?

Maybe I should move on with my life.
I just spent 2 and a half hours
With people who I truly do love.
And I really did feel at home.
I only feel that way with certain people.
And the people I tend to surround
Myself with do not seem to
Bring that feeling of belonging to me.
So maybe this is a good thing.
No, I know it is.
It is a wonderful thing.
Instead of dwelling on the hate
And the pain and the past
I can focus on these people
That make me feel like I belong
In a way that is not just listening
To everyone else's problems.
And I think it's time
That everyone I've been taking care of,
Learn how to fend for themselves.

That was the first time I have been able to really breathe in weeks.

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

HONESTLY
ALL
I
WANT
TO
DO
IS
CUT
MYSELF
TO
SHREDS
RIGHT
NOW
AND
I
DON'T
WANT
TO
BE
STRONG
ANYMORE!

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.

She didn't stop
Because I was self
Destructive.
She didn't stop
Because her hands
Had touched the
Core of my demented
Existence.
She didn't stop
Because I took a
Sharp inhale of a
Breath at the
Feeling.
She stopped because...

Maybe she should
Have unzipped my jeans
And pulled them off.
Maybe she should have
Walked me over to
A closed door and
Pushed me against a wall
Until my knees buckled
And we sank to the ground.
Maybe she should have
Slipped off my shirt
And felt me up.
Maybe I should have
Let her demons get
Farther than she wanted
Them to.

Maybe she would still
Be mine if my stomach
Hadn't had blades on it
Too many ******* times.
Maybe she would still
Hold me if I hadn't stopped
When she did.

Maybe she'd still want
Me like that if...

No...

It would still be
The same.

I wish I had kept that jacket when I had the chance back in January.

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?

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

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.

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

I have this overwhelming desire to call someone and talk to them until I have no more lies. And then maybe someone will understand what is going on inside my head.

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.

I'm starting to look like
One of those
"Is your joke still funny?"
Pictures.

Truthfully
I wish this
Piece of
Cardboard
Was my
Wrist.

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.

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.

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

I don't have anything to hide, either.
It's just that no one
Wants to ask to see what I do
On my darkest nights
And it's not that
I'd tell you no.
It's just that you never asked
To see that side of me.
And what am I to do?
I can't just pull up my sleeve
And say "here I am"
Because I wear short sleeves
And no one tends to see.
Even the ones like you,
Who know that they are there.

If I keep focusing on all the differences,
Will I start seeing things without the fog?
If I lift the blinds from in front of my eyes,
Will I get to see you through this smog?
What if I can't do that?

If you hold onto everything that makes you cry,
Will you stop seeing all of your beauty?
If you search for something to stop the pain,
Will you be able to come back to me?
What if you don't want to do that?

If we start to listen to what they've said
Will we be able to start us again?
If we let ourselves let the other go,
Will our friends notice the change?
What if we can't handle that?