I am a mess of habits, scooped with shaking hands like rusted pennies.
I breathe more nicotine than I do oxygen.
I bite my nails like that is the only way I can keep from clawing my skin off my bones.
The liquor bottles under my bed far outnumber the books on my shelf.
I am constantly shrinking myself, making room for the people I place around me,
Like a computer program running in the background.
I am shaping myself like clay around the space of those I hold dear.
Making myself small and building up everyone else.
The smoking and the drinking may **** me young,
But not before I shrink myself so small, I disappear.
It's been a while since I've had skinned knees doctored and bandaged
But you've always been good and patching me up in other ways.
Lately I've been tripping over my feet and falling to my knees
I've been craving letting my veins unzip themselves like my favorite red sweater.
As it turns out, most of the things in my life that make me feel better, also make me feel worse.
You keep me sane but you make me crazier than anyone else.
Fear kills everything.
It sweeps through the soul like a wildfire, setting everything ablaze,
And leaving nothing behind but the ashes of what you used to know.
I can feel my love beginning to smolder and my hope for
This is hazed by a thick layer of smoke.
I cannot believe in something I have not seen or felt.
This is what I've told my mother on the occasions she asks me to go to church.
I'm trying to learn to believe what you've told me
But words without actions are like book covers with no pages.
And after all this time, I still haven't learned not to
Sail over oceans for someone who wouldn't even jump a puddle for me.
How to whittle my anxieties into shapes more suited to your ears is not a lesson I was taught in school.
Your presence in my life has left my heart dripping nectar, full to bursting with sweetness I can't contain.
But there are razor blades under my skin that will cut you before anyone can predict.
I'm trying to get them all out but you've found so many of them first.
I'm sorry for the scars knowing me will leave.
The way your smile hits your eyes could stop wars,
And if the sound of your laughter was wine, I'd start drinking again.
The way you move is like animated poetry
And the low song of your voice is enough to cure the saddest of days.
There is nothing about the way you were crafted that doesn't make my heart sing,
But when I think of how I'm better when you're around, my feet won't touch the ground.
I could get lost in everything you are.
So when you ask me what I see when I look at you,
I will just show you this poem.
I want to sink my hands into your chest,
Pull all the splinters from your heart,
And plant my lips down on it.
I want to stitch up all the rips and tears,
Mend all that has been broken,
And lose my fingers in your veins so you always know I'm there.
But I'll have to settle for the surface.
I cannot sit inside you with a needle and thread,
but I can hold your hand and kiss you when it hurts
And help to heal you from the outside in.