I wish you loved me as much as you love yourself.

I wish kisses could leave
scars, and pain
would leave no trace of its
presence behind. I've been
to so many places with strangers
and each time I imagined it was some version of you
with me instead.

Save our own hearts by
entering another. Devouring another.
I'm not sure what love is
but faulty incantations, a changing
forecast in stormy minds.
I'm denying myself again from touching
the truth because

holding someone forever and
into eternity
is difficult to comprehend for
a mind that feels more alone when looking
at the stars,
for someone who feels like an intruder
in the house they grew up
in, and is still searching
underneath doormats for "home".

It would be nice for a breeze to catch
my lungs like a net
and whisk me away from
where I stand
against myself. I'm hoping sooner or later
I'll get lost enough in a warm place
that wholly embraces me in ways
I can't for myself.

Well I got my hoodie today,
And I broke,
Maybe it is for the best,
But yet why does it hurt so bad,
I am just so tired,
Tired of trying,
Tired of faking,
Tired of sleepless nights,
Tired of caring,
Tired of being alone,
Tired of breathing,
Tired of living,
Most of all,
Tired of being Tired.
Like ****.

i wonder if i ever

let go this pen

and no longer gave

the words their say

would that freedom

reshape the man i am

would i rue the day

that poetry

doesn't have a hold of me

the very thought

makes me afraid

it would be like

letting go the hand

of my closest friend

that always gets her way

yet there seems to be

comfort in this cancer

pleasure in its pain

am i truly looking

for an answer

would i listen anyway

to the contemplate

of the letting go

of this pen

i tightly grip a hold

my friend my lover

i at times loath

is something

i may never know