Desire overcomes me again,
Impulse stronger than my resolve in love.
Need to be close to someone for tonight.
Touch me, pretend I’m still alive.
Feeling has eluded me for too long now.

Stupid heart, letting go just as easily as it binds.
Drunk and still drinking, I let it go too far.
Thoughtless, or so it seems, but I never have been.
Quickly, I say too much, before I get the chance to stop.
Just once, only tonight, I let myself fall.

Quiet now, let’s keep this to ourselves.
Confused and only getting worse.
Apologies, over and over, this isn’t what you wanted.
Sincerity is lost in my empty brain.
Foggy judgement, as usual, I’m slipping again.

Unsure of my own motivations.
Questions linger unanswered, unconsidered.
Stories I tell myself to stay sane.
Lies I tell myself to keep my feet on the ground.
Hope that it all just goes away.

Just come home already.

I find it hard to believe
Something so healing
could be so harmful

I can't see why it would matter to anyone
How I medicate with self prescribed medicine
I don't see why you would care

Whats the difference
If I drown myself in water or alcohol
I'm still going to die

When I first felt used,
My light and warmth abused,
By grips mostly loose,
I was three years younger than you.

But getting better ain’t forgetting
And I’ve got no right to complain,
I volunteered this body, this heart
To be set ablaze.

Carved by my grandmothers,
Hollywood lit my fire.
The kiss of an Irish boy by the bay
Sent me on my way.

Now I need to be needed
Until they need me too much.
Then they turn me black and blue
And call it love.

I didn’t know love needed
So much blood.

Now I’m growing up.
At 26, I still don’t know love
That you don’t need to beg for,
You don’t need to bleed for,
And you’ll never be too much.

I still don’t know what it feels like
Not to flinch at the first touch.
I know it might never come,
But with you it was close enough.

I didn’t know love needed,
So much blood.

It's all much too
Loud.
The world going by me
Is much too
Noisy.

There's already a consistent scream
Inside of me.
The last thing I need
Is to be in this world
With too many
Sounds.

So I hide
In my room all day.
I hide myself away,
Because when I hear
Everything that's happening outside,
How everything moves just fine,
I begin to lose my mind.

Why can't I move the same?
Why can't I become
Part of this well oiled machine?
I'll never fit into
The motions they all execute,
So I sit on the edge
Of their common reality
And watch it all turn.

I watch it
But it gets too much
It grows too loud
And now I have to hide again.
Hide myself from all the sounds
That start fires in my head.

Run
Little freak.
Run
Black sheep.

My ears are too sensitive
To be in anything but
Silence.
To be in anything but
Quiet.

The vibrations of the outside
Go in my sensitive ears
And amplify whatever is already
Being screamed in my
Tortured
Tormented
Time bomb
Mind.

Then they go to my eyes,
Well right behind
And build pressure
And pain
Until I have no choice but to
Cry.
Cry.
Little baby
Little freak
Little black sheep

Whatever it was
That once drew words from
A tempest of a mind
Is missing now.

Whatever it was
That animated my withering hands
With dancerly motion
Has taken flight.

What did I have
That sifted through chaos
And spoke with power
Through my juvenile lips.
Power with which my grown voice
Could not conjure except
In a moment’s horror.

Skill generated from the lust of a fire
Stoked by unpredictability,
Fed by creative superiority complex.

I can look back at my adolescence with shame
And disgust.
I can tell myself
How much wiser I am now.
But that lustful child,
That frail beast
Could soak a page in pain
In ways I struggle to mimic.

I was erupting with language,
Bursting at the seams with monologue,
Overcome by soliloquy.
Now I am a mute stage hand
Calling for my line.

Must I once again take the spotlight
For an audience of self judgment
To prove to myself
That I am capable of putting on
A written performance worth reading?

Let this be my audition.
I will move myself to a standing ovation.

Gotta stay high
To keep you off my mind
To keep my fears at bay
Keep them from pulling me away

If I stay high
Than I forget for a bit
I forget why I was crying
And I forget why I was dying

Only when I'm high
Can feel something
Do I feel alive
But I know that's a lie

You make my heart awaken
Shake off the dust and webs
You make my skin warm
Not like ice when I was dead
You give my lungs air
I'm amazed you gave me breath

I don't need to be high
I'd rather have you instead

What are you still doing here?
I told you to go.
I told you I can't come back home.
But you're still here,
In my bones.
In every atom.
When I said I was addicted,
I meant I was enslaved.
I meant to say I was yours,
You took me captive unknowingly.
And now I can't let it fade,
The comfort of your embrace.
It held me with you,
It captured me willingly.
And I belong to you,
And I always will.

I’m losing grip on deeper thoughts,
I wish to stand on war torn fronts,
I turn away from all I’ve fought.

I cannot mask my clear remorse,
Un-satiated hungry fear.
I must leave this to run its course,
My dusty bones are crumbling here.

I am a force to all I love,
A fearful storm that leaves no trail,
A burden they cannot hold up,
My storm, it carries hell and hail.

Slipping back into the sea,
My mind is lost inside of me.

Relapse and rewind
This happens every ******* time.
I've been neglecting the drugs,
The ones that were supposed to save me.

They only make it worse
Make me feel more crazy.
But when the time comes
Where my tide breaks
I cannot hold my ground.
The monsters come to me
With deafening sound.

Whispers from malevolent lips
Sound so sweet.
Like candy for my starving soul.
And soon I'm on that sugar high.

Rushing cherry red
It's got such a lovely flavor.
Feeds my hunger
Satisfies my thirst.

It won't be long
Before I'm back for more.

It's not like a song you've ever heard
Or a song you'll ever want to hear
But it caught my ear when I first heard it sing

It sang in my head
The voices whispered it quietly
Curiosity urged me
Listen closer

A slow crescendo wrapped me
I was intoxicated by the gore that filled me
Before I could make it stop
The song had etched it's bars
It's time signature
It's key
Deep in my veins
Deep in my bones
It's taken over my brain

My body has become the instrument
That plays this addicting song
A woodwind perhaps
A string maybe
But all I know is this one song

Dead hands play symphonies
For dying hands to be
Please don't follow me
Don't listen to my song
You will become addicted
You will learn how to play
Please don't become the composer
Of your own suicide song

Dancing and twirling
Devilish thoughts
They taunt
They sing
And laugh an eerie song

I know every word
Every down beat and note
I sing a long every day

Catchy tunes
They get stuck in your head
Even when there is no physical sound
It repeats
And repeats
On and on

Like a chanting spell
Like a screaming cry
This suicide song
It won't let me die

My words, becoming literal.
I'm losing grip on deeper thoughts,
I wish I could find something more
But darkness fills my deepest caves.

I cannot mask my blunt remorse,
Unsatiated hungry thoughts.
I try so hard but I am weak,
My dusty bones can't hold my weight.

I am a force to all I love,
A burden they cannot hold up.
I'm sorry I am much too frail,
But you don't have to keep me safe.

There's something wrong inside my head,
I keep on wishing I was dead

The sun stays later
And rises higher,
It thaws the first flowers
That open like my chest.

Today spring is here
And the radiating light
Reminds me of your wide grin
How it shines,
Your voice excited to have a day
Calling me sweet names
That still echo in my head.

I drive with my windows down
Feeling the warm breeze soothe my crosshatched raw skin.
The sensation pulls me back
To last years melt,
When we walked hand in hand
Out of the dark winter
And into the river
Into the woods
Onto the beach
Over the mountains.

Now even sunny days make me cry
Thanks to you.
Even the sweet smell of spring
Sours in my nose.
And the promise of longer days
Sounds more like a threat.

Our mutual friend convinced me to spill my secrets to him. I had been holding back the truth because it seemed that every time I let its sour taste roll off my lips, I was once again left alone. But my therapist says I need to open up to people, to get rid of these “surface relationships”. So, for once in my life, I took the doctor’s orders.
I wasn’t planning for it to happen this way though. My mom dropped me off at his house and I opened the door to deafening Joy Division; (not that I minded but) I was taken by surprise. It went as usual to start, danced to some music and shared some cigarettes. Then we get talking about our writing, how blunt and honest mine is and how cryptic and nonsensical his is. So I read him my most recent words; he found them amusing but began asking questions. I answered as non-descriptively as possible. But then we began talking about the horrors he’s seen. He told me that he didn’t know if he could see more skeletons and blood. But I told him about mine anyway.
We moved to the porch so he could have his cigarettes. And I began to let my guard down. I told him about my ****** past and gory thoughts. I told him, with hesitation, that I was trying so hard but it’s a cycle. And finally, I stutteringly told him about my obsession with perfection. He knew I wasn’t normal but he didn’t know I forced myself to expel calories. He seemed un-phased and unimpressed. There was a brief silence before he said “What do you want from me?” What did I want?  I thought all I wanted was to tell him the truth and let him in but he had me second guessing. I did my best to answer the question how I thought he wanted.
He went on to tell me his drugs could help. I was already filled with prescribed and un-prescribed chemicals, but now he wanted me to add to the toxic brew flooding my veins. “I think dropping some good acid with some good people could change your perspective on things”. No ****. It would completely boil the poison that was already within me. I began to feel anger swell inside me, how could he suggest something so stupid? What have I gotten myself into? I respectfully declined his offer and did my best to pretend he never said that.
When suddenly he sat down, looked me in the eyes (mine quickly shifted from his) and said “Ask me about David”. David? What did he have to do with any of this? What kind of reverse psychology ******* was he trying to pull? I complied and began to ask about the day’s events and about David as a person. But apparently these weren’t the right questions.
Eventually he drove me home. I hopped out of the car and so did he. (That’s a first.) As we hugged goodbye, I knew what was coming. I went to pull away but he pulled me closer. That’s when I was positive I was about to hear it. He gently let go and said,
“Lizzy, I think we have to take some time apart.”
“Why?”
“I just can’t do this right now.”
I pulled away from his hand and turned to walk inside before I punched him right in his oddly prominent jaw. Right before I opened the door I turned back to him one last time. His eyes looked sad and seemed to say “I’m sorry”. While I’m pretty sure mine said “*******.”
My hypothesis was confirmed. No one wants to hear the sob story. No one wants to be around the freak. I’m starting to think I really am better off with “surface relationships”.

With both of us standing
Infront of the guillotine,
Why did you take her
Instead of me?

I'm trying to find the reason.
Why did I deserve to live?
What kept me here
And took her away?

I'm not even close
To deserving half a life.
But she did nothing wrong,
Still she's the one you took.

Maybe it's survivors guilt,
And maybe i'm being stupid.
But I don't understand,
Why God would take a soul like hers
And leave me to live.

Grayness swells above,
It rains glass drops from heaven
They shatter on me.
The glass will not make me bleed,
My skin is hardened as stone.

It'll be two years soon.
Two years,
Five psychiatric medications,
Six relapses,
20 pounds lost and gained,
And lost again,
And one suicide attempt.

And now I'm here,
Still trying to wash your fingerprints
Off of my bruised skin.
Trying to forget your voice
And the feeling of your grip
On my wrists and throat.

Two years later
And I still can't bring myself
To say the word out loud.
The R word.
Two years later and I still
Tell myself
"You idiot, you should have known."

Two years later
And every time I pass your house
On the way to see my psychiatrist
I have half a mind
To burn it to the ground.
To throw rocks in your windows.
To slash the tires
On your red jeep.

Maybe by next year
I'll stop seeing you in my dreams.
I'll stop feeling your hands
All over me.
I'll stop hearing
Your voice breaking through tears
Telling me you love me.

Maybe by next year
The scars from when
I locked myself in your bathroom
And tore myself apart
Will fade completely.
Maybe by next year
I'll actually be able
To say the word "****".

I’m finding it hard to speak
With any sort of power
Or conviction.
I worry and fret over every word
Every gesture and expression,
Wondering if i’m all wrong.

I’ve found that
I’m the most me
When I’m with you.
I’m sure and brave,
With you as my strength.
But now, my hands wring
And eyes dart.

The courage I once had
To lean into the absurdity that defines me,
The absurdity
That you assured me you loved,
Has drained from my body.

Without your love
To hold me steady,
I have turned back
Into the fearful child
That sewed her mouth shut
And cried behind locked doors.

I put on a brave face,
Tell them I’m more angry than sad,
More appalled than hurt.
I try to move on,
Like you,
Trying to find a backbone
In someone new.

But they do not speak to me like you
They do not look at me like you
They do not challenge me like you.
They do not make me someone better,
Like you.

Every day without you,
My body curls tighter.
My knees get closer to my chest,
My neck bends further forward,
My arms wrap my legs harder and harder.

Retreating back into myself
Back into the cell
Your love drew me out of.
Locking myself in,
Where I can wither in peace
Seems like the best way to proceed.

The beat of your drums,
Echos the beat of my heart.
The strength of your voice,
Comforts my mind.
The strum of your chords,
Sways my soul back and fourth.
The depth of the bass,
Pulls me back from my depths.

Its so much more than music to me.

Please don't tell me its all in my mind,
That would mean i'm going crazy.
But what if everything that was in my mind,
Was written on me like a tattoo.
But what if it was so easy to tell,
The crazy from the average girl.
And what if i wore a badge,
Or maybe i do.
I wear these scars,
As a battle with my mind that i seem to have won.
But because the scars have not multiplied,
Does not mean that the battle has subsided.
The shots are still heard,
The blood is still spilled,
The screams are still shouted,
And the loss of feeling is still just as great.
At least in my mind.
In the mind of the one's who are crazy,
But do not wear the badge of guilt.
The scars i have acquired,
That are all too familiar.
Do not haunt the silent sufferers.
But scream my insanity to each passing opportunity,
That i am too afraid to take.

The Dancers in Black

Her dress was black and the shape resembled a flower. Satin off-the-shoulder sleeves sat elegantly against her ivory white skin. A plain black bodice and a plain black skirt, not too puffy but not form fitting. It was a simple dress, but she stood out from all the lavishly decorated girls that attended the ball. Her pale skin made her black dress look like a painting on a pure white canvas. A few black curls fell from her crown-like updo and brushed against her neck; giving her beauty an effortless essence.
Soon after she entered the grand doors, a man approached her. He was older, but not too old. Maybe ten years her senior.
“You are breathtaking, it would be an honor to dance with such a beauty.”
A small grin curled her lips as she took the hand he extended to her. They danced wonderfully in the ballroom. They swayed together like a tree in the wind, his branches twisting with hers. Her black dress melted with his black coat and trousers and they became one beautiful black bird, floating and gliding freely.
The rest of the guests froze, watching the couple in a trance. The room fell silent, even the musicians were hypnotized by the dancers’ grace. The couple continued to dance through the silence, seemingly unaware of their surroundings. Their gaze was locked, transcending reality as they stared into each other’s eyes. They were somewhere else, transported by their dance. An unfamiliar world was created between their eyes that grew and spread like a halo around their interlocked frames.
The guests were not amazed, not horrified, they were not anything. The feeling of Nothing swept over them like a dusting of light snow. Nothing seeped into their hearts the longer they watched the dancers. This Nothingness would be with them until the end of time.
The King entered the ballroom confused the the silence and the stillness.
“What are you doing? I don’t pay you so my guests can stand around in boredom.”
The musicians resumed playing and the guests went back to dancing. Men looked for the beauty in the black dress and women searched for the man in the black coat. They seemed to have disappeared. No woman or man in black could be found.
The guests danced and carried on their night like they would any other. But they could not forget the dancers and the Nothingness that was left in their hearts.
As the night came to an end, and the guests began to leave, the image of the dancers in black haunted their minds. They left through the grand doors like sand falls through an hourglass, consistent and calm until the room was empty. No one spoke of the event, but there was a sense of understanding among the guests. They all saw the event, they all felt the Nothingness that remained, and they all agreed it was best not to dwell on the matter.
They would think about the dancers in black every day. Every man and woman, and lord and peasant who saw the dancers would carry on life with Nothingness inside them and the curious beauty of the dance in their memory. Each one trying not to think about it because they knew that just the notion of that night would cause them to fall into the same trance they fell to in the ballroom. How odd it is to ignore a memory, all while knowing it will never be forgotten. How strange it must be to lie to yourself and know the truth cannot be denied. They shut away their knowledge of the dance so they could continue living life in the facetious way they had before.  
One of the guests was a poet. He could not carry on like the others. He could not ignore the Nothingness. After the ball, his writing became only repeated attempts to understand the dancers. And to understand why they made him feel so uneasy. His attempts failed over and over again for years, until the poet had nearly given up. After hundreds, maybe thousands of discarded rough drafts, the poet wrote his last sentence. He wrote it and never again felt the need to pick up a pen. It was simple and short, and everything he had been looking for.
“I saw Death, and it was beautiful.”

Either I have wasted my breath
And spent my air on useless ramblings,
Leaving meaning like a cloud to float away
With intended ears bare to my point.

Or my mouth has not parted nearly enough
To exhale with any worthwhile purpose,
Trapping my objective still in my lungs
Swelling like an over-inflated balloon
Ready to burst at the slightest poke.

My chosen phrasing has been inadequate
Or my audience has decided to stay ignorant,
Rejecting my analysis in favor of blissful unawareness
So they may continue their rejection of truth
And keep pace against self-knowledge.

I have tried to change the story
Be revealing the subtext.
I have unfolded a canvas of consciousness
To one who revels in negligence,
Finding that my efforts are all but transformative.
Now wondering if I have mistranslated
Or muddied the blend.

I have framed this endeavor as an act of service
To one who denies my care.
“It is for his own good” I tell myself,
As I venture to illuminate the truth of the character
I have come to know through lashings and tears.

Now it is clear that the reflection I have conjured,
The mirror that I have painstakingly crafted
Has no form to display.
I have written it down, painted it out
But your attention will not sway
From the mangled path that you have cut every which way but home.

Some urge continues,
Telling me to find another way
to make you listen,
To make you care,
To make you take heed of what I have to say.
Despite your deafness to my voice,
which has been demonstrated again and again.

While my instruction has not enlightened you,
It has taught me to know you
better than you do.
I have sifted through your archives
to find the nuance of your avoidance
And detail it with citation and reference.

The theories I have conjured
And observations I have made
Serve me better than they do you.
They have discerned the route that I must take
Away from you and your refusal to acknowledge the roots of suffering
You cause to those who only wish to be close to you.

So I will venture to stray
From the course which would be easy to take,
Toward deeper understanding of self
And conscious correction of fault.
To one who has taken stock of the harm they have caused
And allowed selfless change to wash away
The habits that hurt.

It is true
That one can only understand me
As deeply as they have understood themselves,
And your defiance of perception
Will keep you from knowing anyone
And anyone from knowing you.

In between a dream
I heard your name whispered
In between reality
I had a scary trip

Brain scrambled
Consciously confused
I was in between

Mid sleep
I tremble awake
The voices have found me
In between my sanity

I have no more safe place
No more escape
The voices found me
In between

I didn't want to open my eyes. The sight of him made me sick. I hated his short, hairy legs. I hated his eyes. They looked at me with sadness, but sadness couldn't hide the evil that stared at me. I hated the way they looked hollow and dark when he took his glasses off. I hated his beard. It scratched my skin when he tried to kiss me. And when he thrusted his lips at mine, hoping i wouldn't run.

I hated his hands the most. His hands radiated with his disgusting desire. Every time he touched me, from the day we first met, i knew something was wrong. Maybe i was just being too "closed off". Thats what my dad always said when i didn't let him hug me. When he touched me, i could see his hands for what they really were. Slimy tentacles, lusting for their prey.

I should have seen it coming, the things his hands did. They hit me. I saw stars and my ears rang. They scratched me. The marks would be there for days. They gripped my throat so tight i could feel my life slipping away as my vision went dark. He released just before i passed out, letting me breathe.

Sometimes i wish he had kept choking me. I wished he had killed me that day, putting an end to my torture.

All the pain and lack of oxygen made me weak. Too weak to try to fight. He was bigger and stronger. And i was just a battered little girl, terrified and trapped. I couldn't get away. And who would hear me if i screamed? We were alone and i was pretty sure he'd keep hurting me if i tried. He restricted my breathing every time i made a sound.

So i just laid there. I closed my eyes, pretending i was dead. I waited for it to be over, trying to **** my mind. I didn't want to feel a thing. I didn't want to be there. If i could somehow slip into death in my head, i wouldn't have to be here anymore. Killing myself in my head was the only escape from my terrible reality.

It was over and he drove me home. He tried to talk to me. He tried to reassure me that everything was okay and i wasn't a bad person.
"Don't feel guilty, he doesn't have to know." He kept talking but i was silent. In an emotionless trance, my face was still and unexpressive. Tears came slowly and silently. They rolled down my stone cheeks, my statue of a face.

What just happened? Did he forget the events of the last hour? Did I?
"Don't feel guilty. He won't know."
Had i just cheated on my boyfriend? What have i done?

He made me think that i was the one to blame. I'm a ****. *****. Disgusting cheater. What did i do? I hate myself. I deserve to die.

I knew the truth. I knew what happened. I knew what he did and i knew how horrible it felt. So how was he able to convince me that this was my fault? Was it because i didn't want to think about that word? ****.

No, i had not been *****. I cheated and I'm a horrible person. He means the world to me and i am a horrible ****. That's what i told myself. And didn't tell anyone else anything about cheating or ****. It's a terrifying word. Once the reality is seen.

I'm snared in my own trap,
Caught off guard by the heartbreak
That has caught up with me.
As if I didn't part the jaws
And step on the pan.

I am my own prey,
Wrapped in the sticky web I spun.
Baited by thrill, drawn out of boredom,
I burry my fangs in my own flesh.

I followed my more capricious self
Into a lonely room,
Hoping she would fan my flames.
But she's backed me into a corner
And brought me to my knees.

I've lured myself close
With the shine of my knife.
I captured my fascination
And held the blade to my own throat.
"Speak," I dare myself.

I held my own hand.
With tenderness and trickery,
Distraction and hope,
I walked myself to the edge of a dizzying cliff
And said "you know what to do."

Now I'm not done letting myself suffer yet.
I will watch myself thrash in torment
Just a little longer.
I will keep biting
Until I'm bored of the taste.

I will tower over myself
And witness my own cowering.
The cold edge will stay pressed to my pulse
Until I've made my point.

I will not let myself turn away from the drop,
I will not cut a path back down the mountain.
I will wait and watch
Until I outgrow my fear of heights.

I will keep crying
Until my eyes dry up.
I will keep grieving
Until the memories stop hurting.
I will keep loving him,
Until my heart lets go.

Then I will be ready
To do it all again.

If these walls would talk,
About a hardened heart,
That pumps boiling blood.
And eyes that wandered.
And a terrible, horrible mind.
They would tell you that a light is hard to find
When you're consumed by emptiness

They've seen me sit in front of the mirror,
At ungodly hours of the night
And cry and scream and pray.

They've seen me try to shake myself from my inward terror.
Try to convince myself that it's not real,
They're not real,
The monsters aren't real.

They've heard me scream
"Get out of my head!"
At the mirror trying to reach what lived inside of me.
They've watched me scratch at my skin,
Trying so hard to get whatever demon that had possessed me out so I could face it.
And tell it to go back to hell.

And if I could talk back to these walls,
Id tell them they are my best friends.
The only ones that have ever seen the dark sides that I have so kept hidden and laughed about.
But they were the only ones that heard me cry and they are the only ones that know what I've done at those ungodly hours.
How I tortured myself,
How I called some stupid help line because I didn't have anyone to call.
I've been so lonely and I can now understand why,
No person will ever be close enough to see what they have seen.

Down
Up
My eyes bounce from the water below me
To the dark and dancing river
That runs under the stone fortress I wander

Im sure I have felt this before
Mostly sure
But I can’t forage a memory
From the wilderness
That has rooted in me

I consume myself
Starting with my feet
I twist further to the start
Back to the beginning
But I haven’t yet tasted the memory of this feeling

Stepping into the treeline again
Touching the vastness that I have nurtured
I mingle with the my past selves
And paint pictures of the myriad of selves-yet-to-be

Her thick brow,
Is only her choice.
A stance against norms.
2. Ribbons and flowers,
All tangled in her hair.
A decorative crown,
But beauty is not defined here.
3. She had many lovers,
Of many kinds.
But promiscuity,
Does not define worth.
4. Drink more than the men.
To dance with a love,
They can never have.
5. Politics are unimportant,
Only the ideas in your mind.
Of equality and charity,
But it will leave somebody dead.
6. Be bold and smart.
Follow your own direction,
Maybe dress like a man
7. When a trolley crashes,
Leaving you wishing for death,
Draw on your bandage.
Don’t let your broken column
Break your strength.
8. Don’t fall in love with artists,
They drink too much,
Cheat too much.
And will break your heart
9. Fall in love with artists,
A musician, maybe a painter.
You’ll never be bored,
You’ll always be drunk.
10. Just don’t let them break you,
Don’t stop painting because you’re hurt.
Don’t give them the satisfaction,
Of breaking your wings.
11. You don’t need anyone,
When you have wigs to fly.
Don’t need feet,
Or anyone else.
12. You probably feel like a freak,
Like the weirdest person you’ve ever known.
But as long as you’re weird with me,
You’ll never be weird alone.
13. Make friends with the past,
With people you’ve never known.
It’ll always be a source of security,
No one can leave that’s already gone.

I look at Frida through her paint, through her words, through the story of her life she has taught me not to be afraid.

You feel like a warm day,
I feel like a burning building.

You shine and glisten,
I scorch and crumble.

You rise like the sun,
I detonate like a bomb.

You look like a rolling hillside,
I look like a blind cliff.

You go on for miles,
I’m a dead end.

You’re a gentle descent,
I’m an unsurvivable fall.

You sound like a country song,
I sound like an elegy.

You’re a sweetly ringing chord,
I’m a tearful, sobbing goodbye.

You’re a nostalgic love story,
I’m a painful flashback.

You taste like summer fruit,
I taste like rotting teeth.

You snap like a crisp bite,
I decay like a neglected body.

You grow and give,
I deteriorate and decompose.

You smell like warm bread,
I smell like burnt toast.

You’re a perfect morning,
I’m a worst nightmare.

i need some company
im lonely and im sad
i feel like a burden
and my mind is tortured daily

im sorry im a clingy ******* mess
but i still feel like im drowning
im still afraid im gonna sink
please dont let me fall

please hold me
please dont let me go
i need your arms wrapped around me
i need to know

i sometimes think
that i've defeated the reaper
that lives in my finger tips.
the reaper that commandeered my hands
and made them weapons of
self destruction.

he lies dormant
long enough to convince me
that he's found another home.  
but he takes me hostage
every now and again
to remind me he's here.

i forgot the thoughts
of an early death
and lived like i was planning
for next year.
i've been expecting a future
that i'm not sure exists.

but the reaper has made me
recall the consideration
that i may not be fit to live
a life as long as i would like.

as of right now
i have no plans to interrupt this life
with eternal sleep.
but i cannot promise
that in some time
the reaper will not convince me.

so while he sleeps
while i still have time
theres so much
i need to do before i die.

i need to feel love
without the fear
of that love being expunged.
i need to find my God
whether he be the one
i've been shown or not.

i want so badly
to look at myself
the same way
i look at a flower.
i want so badly to see
what others say they see in me.

i've always wanted
to be something good.
a good daughter,
lover,
friend.

and i have this desire
to help where i can
and not need any myself.
i want to matter
in a life besides my own
and hold value above my worth.

i don't want to
be a burden anymore.
i don't want to be
a pressing responsibility on anybody.
i don't want the few i love
to feel obligated to pick me out of
my own disasters.

i worry i won't fulfill
these aspirations in time.
the reaper will wake
and take control again
this time with the force
of ten thousand men.

ten thousand men
wielding my hands
instead of swords.
they turn my hands against me
as they had been turned before.

this time i will not survive.
such an incredible might
will devour and destroy
this fragile self i defend.

but what does it matter
what i want?
theres so much more
things that are so much bigger
than the desires of a deranged
little girl

The past holds me by the ankles,
Dragging me across the floor
Through the wreckage
Of my desperate decisions.

There is no destination,
Nowhere to drop me,
Or leave me to bleed
After the debris of memory
Has pierced me
Like a nail through a tire.

The fixed,
Glass eyes of the past
Stay locked into the dark distance behind us,
Retreating into reminiscence.

In the moments when I am strong enough,
I twist to face forward,
In search of the present
And something sturdy to hold onto,
Lest time immemorial flay me
On the rubble of my insatiability.

Just yesterday,
The tearing of skin
And willful deterioration into anamnesis
Came to me as effortlessly,
As sweetly as wine on my tongue
Washing down an ambrosial pill.

But today,
Though it would be easier to concede
To times' torment,
I aspire to want a grounding in actuality.
Praying I find that now
Fills me with a more substantive contentment
Than then.

But everything I grip
Rips from its roots
And disintegrates like a forgotten semblance
In my frenzied hands.

For how am I to know
What lies beneath the dirt?
How can I anticipate the integrity
Of his assurance
And avoid shallowly entrenched
Semi-permanence?

There is nothing but eternity
To continue falling into.
So with tepid hope
And resigning repetition
I keep looking
And I keep grasping
At tethers showing tenable-enough sincerity.

The hours will pass anyway
And, for now,
I retain the belief
That my languid attempts
At thwarting history's absconding of my contemporaneity
May eventually prevail
In standing me upright,
Existant in currency.

Then I may turn
And face remembrance as I please,
With ankles rubbed raw
And stationary feet.

I can visit the displays
Of bygone horror
Without becoming part of the atrocity
Again.

Clutching fast
To the most invariable helve
I've yet found,
I only fear that the past
May rip me in two.

Leaving me halved
And but a fragment
Of the entirety that I was
Before recollection animated
With retribution against me.

I beg to heaven
That he possess me
With the same fervor that I cling to him
And that his coherence
Stays material enough to
Wrap my despairing fingers around.

Fabricated.
Fictitious.
A fake floating feeling
Falls short
Of my fleeting fantasy.

This insidious infirmity
Isn't what I intended.
I've been inflicted
With internal indisposition.
In need of an ideal identity.

Who am I without
This ****** to make me whole?
How do I heave my heart
Away from this hole?
Have you seen how hard this is?

But it's been short of a year,
Of believing I can simply be.
And before I break
Bleed me of my bane.
And for me, bear no malice.

Tightly take me
Away from my terible tempest.
Time tells me it's time to stop.
Too long I've tortured my tenemet.
Tame the tantrum tearing through me.

Sober seems strong,
But it's systematic survival.
Stopping the surrender
To something stimulating.
Learning to stand sedated.

No I'm no longer numb.
No longer neglecting my need
For new novcane.
Knowing I'll never need
This vaccine again.

You are all my ambition.
Dispelling my ailments
And afflictions.
I am hard to adore, I know.
You are my new addiction.

You have me dreaming,
Praying we are real.
Made me feel.
Don't decieve my brittle belief.
Keep me, don't leave.

I'm not the kind to fly.
For you i'd try to dive.
Unafraid I might die.
I don't hide from the night.
This is what I've been trying to find.

These summer days
Are so strange.
There's so much silence
That I wish was sound.

I've always craved quiet
But it's different now.
Something about quiet
Makes me uneasy.

I'm trying to stay busy,
Occupied,
Distracted from all the quiet
That's laughing at me.

Maybe I need noise
Because in silence
My mind demands to be heard.
And I do not want to listen.

I do not want to listen
To what whispers echo
Throughout my skull
When there's nothing stimulating
My attention.

I've heard them before
And I have no interest
In being held hostage
By what feels like
A foreign voice.

I refuse to follow
My diseased train of thought.
It will only lead me
Into wars
And off cliffs.

So I will make noise
By any means necessary.
I will scream songs
I don't know the lyrics to.
I will play my guitar
Even if it's out of tune.

I will listen to a comforting voice
With a mesmerizing face.
I will smoke until
The silence is friendly.
I will paint
And become enthralled by colors
That only have examples
And no names.

I want my days to be
Loud and
Vibrant.
No more dull
Silence.

When I first met love
It took me in its arm
And twirled me into a world
Where I could no longer
Be okay with loneliness.
It dropped me in the dust.

I was a foreigner here.
The only reality I knew before
Love left me stranded
Was dark and quiet,
Comfortable and terminal.

I was bound to fade away
And my time was almost up
When Love ripped me
From my grave
And ****** me into
Its strange world.

Here,
I settled into
My tragic fortune.
Waiting for Love
To dance with me again.

Our first dance
Was too furious to survive.
Love tossed me
Like a ragdoll
And spun me so fast
My head nearly
Detached from my body.
Love went for the lift
And dropped me on my face.

The second time
Love took me by the hand
It's gentle swaying
Almost made me forget
About our first disaster.
Softly, Love turned me around.
I turned once,
I turned twice,
Lost in rhythm I closed my eyes.

Now Love turned me again
And when I opened my eyes
Expecting to greet the face
That hypnotized me,
Love was unfamiliar.
Distorted and cruel,
Love changed to Narcissism
And left me in the dust again.

One more time
Love asked me to dance.
And I said,
"Stay away from me.
I won't fall for it again."
So Love shrugged and
Began to waltz without me.

I watched in disbelief
As Love moved
With a new kind of grace
And fluidity.
It didn't need me
To create such beauty.
But with patience,
Love waited for me.

So I stepped in
And Love let me lead.
Love bent with me
And caught me
When I dipped.

It seems
All we needed
Was the right music.

i haven't posted anything in almost three years

i'm sorry.

i'm trying really hard.

but maybe im lying when i say that.

maybe im just pretending that what made me write before is still somewhere inside me.

it could be that the snake ive been trying to charm is dead.

no sweet melody can make it rise from its resting place inside me.

maybe i should put my flute down.

Everyone says
True love is painful.
But the key is finding someone
Who is worth the pain.

You hurt me in ways
That your "love"
Could never make up for.

He loves me in ways
That heal the scars you made.

The songs you watched me cry to,
Remembering him,
Have rearranged memories
And are now about you.

What I crave to do again
Has shifted forward,
Framing new dates
Like a rotating exhibit
That is always a year behind.

Borrowing the soundtracks
From the reels of older grief,
Unarchiving the loss of other lovers,
Taking the signifiers of pain
And giving them to you.

And when I stumble over the artifacts
That have found their way under my feet,
Coming directly from you,
I pick them up and hold them close,
Tracing every angle and seam
Hoping to feel some trace of you.

I listen close,
Pressing my ear to the glass,
Closing my eyes to focus on the silence
In case one might ring,
Just a little,
With the sound of you.

Now I see why I've been drinking so much.
Because through the glasses full of laughter
And the warm days stained hues of whiskey,
The taste has turned into you.

So now I drink,
Desperate for mouthfuls of you.
It burns me the whole way down,
But to swallow your fire
Is how I stay close to you.

I pretend that maybe,
On the other side of town,
You drink me too.
Taking your gin warm
To remind you of my blood
You couldn't help but spill.

I know you don't,
Because I am a chore to remember,
But I hope sometimes
When you drink,
You ******* fire too.

How did I turn into this?
How did I wake up one morning,
Suddenly afraid I was going to live?

I find myself pacing
Or staring at nothing,
While i can't slow my thinking
Or find a pattern in my breathing.

I'm no less lost
Than I was last month,
And no less terrified
Than when I broke
All the promises
I had made to myself.

My tiny room
Can't hold me
For too long.
My expansive thoughts
Bounce off the walls
And back into me
Until I decide to
Find some place open to think.

And I walk all alone
I lay in dark open fields
Or on benches by water,
Hoping my thoughts will get lost
In the landscape
And forget to return to my head.

My eyes fill with anxiety
As I forget to breathe.
I make sure no one
Can see me
Than I let the anxiety
flooding my eyes roll down my cheeks.

The cold breeze
Reminds me to breathe
And I'm back in the grass
Hoping you're thinking about me.

This pink mass of mist
it glows when we touch
my waking has surrendered
it belongs to you
but the boulder
this crippling weight still sits

misty fog can't fly
can't float
never could
that rocky weight
it finally caught a cloud
and pinned it down

i didn't mean to show you
i never wanted you to see this
this amazingly heavy burden I carry
please don't let it catch your cloud

maybe I too often feel like a burden
only because I have lived as one
and this fear of being what I am
it adds ounces every day

maybe that's what I've been trying to get rid of
not my earthly weight
but the one that caught my cloud
Is that the one I've been trying to starve out?

I get this feeling,
It sinks through my spine.
Sits in my bones.
Like an unwanted guest,
And I, the unwilling host.

The intruder finds its way to my feet.
Making my toes curl,
And tap.
Restlessly twitching,
As if ready to run.
But I'm not ready for anything.

My hands do the same.
Hard to hold anything,
With this earthquake
Terrorizing my body.
Cold and uneasy,
They cling to each other.

Is it just a chemical,
Artificial affliction?
Or a symptom,
Of all lost direction?
Where do I put
All this misplaced disruption?

Now find the pieces,
Paint the picture.
Find some reason
In this sloppy meter.
My understated explanation.

when my hands turn to claws
and my eyes burn red
i sometimes cant hold back
the things that i have said

the fear of unrequited love
of losing someone so dear
is always so present
always so near

and im still learning
to push these delusions aside
to just breathe and be with you
and let the seas have
a calmer tide

its these past fer days
i'v been under so much weight
the bad thoughts cant hide
from everything attacking me from the outside

so i attack myself
and i didn't mean for you to feel the shrapnel
for you to see the blood
but i'm drawing a treaty of my sides
the irrational and logical
logic is in charge now
irrationality has surrendered

now we can be happy again
we can be like we were before
you made me fight even harder
fight this war for you

This feels like dying
It feels like I'm ******* falling

I'm no good
I'm a monstrous mess
I'm a lifeless ghost
I'm a waste of space

The pounding in my chest has slowed
And I long for it to stop
The voices in my head are quiet
And I beg for them to scream
This pain has brought me to life
And I beg for it to end

My words aren't so pretty anymore
I've run out of beautiful ways
To say I want to die

I think it's time
For me to close my eyes
And slip into the sleep
That I've always desired.

I think it's time
To say goodbye
To everything I've grown to know
And everything I'll have to let go.

I think it's time
To find out
Once and for all
What dreams may come.

I have a lot to say
But my voice breaks under the weight of these words.
I have no sounds,
No syllable,
That can comprehend the complexity of my thoughts.
They don't make sense
Not even to me
Every jumbled up mess of a notion
Swims around in this clouded abyss.
For a long time I put on this facade,
This mockery of the truth.
I tell you I'm happy
I tell you it's because of you.
But nothing can save me from drowning
From the fire
From the storm .
And I'll tell you I love you
Because it's what you want to hear.

I don't tell you how I wake up from nightmares,
Terrified and out of breath.
Only to crawl my way to the sink and
Disappoint you with what I'm about to do
I take them
I take them all
One by one I count them as I swallow
It makes me laugh it makes me smile.
It makes me cry because the drugs don't make up for a lack of feeling
They do not fill me with the fancy yet crippling ideal light that they told me about.
They just remind me of my loniness

These jumbled up notions scream
They cry
They laugh
I'm drowning
But you can't save me and I'll tell you I can
Because it's what you want to hear

I'm drowning again,
In things I haven't said.

My teeth like bars
And my mouth like a prison,
Everything I feel
Is kept within.

All my sadness,
And all my fears,
All my paranoia,
And unconditional love,
All held captive in my
Penitentiary mouth.

And it seems so stupid
To keep it all
Locked away,
But I feel even dumber
When I let my thoughts
Slip through the cracks in my teeth.

But I'm only human
And I need to know
That the way I feel
Is justified because
I feel it.

I'm only human,
And teeth don't make
Effective dams.
Tidal waves
Of feeling I've swallowed
Come pouring out my eyes
When I'm alone at night.

And you want me to show you?
You want to see
What it looks like
To feel like me?

I'm only a girl
With a fragile heart
So hold it gently.
Hold me closely
And make me believe
That it really is okay
To be like me.

The space you take in me
Stretches to every border of my landscape.

It leaves little terrain
For any other notion to take root.

Your wilderness is dense,
Filled with sharp-toothed creatures
And poison fruit.

It is invasive,
Spreading without challenge
Or consideration for the native species.

I wouldn’t mind your expansive occupation,
Had you ruled with benevolence.

But your presence is oppressive.
It leaves me cowering with fear
In the dark corners of your territory.

Now I think a revolution of the heart
Is about to ignite.
The resistance is growing
And torches are lit.

There is time to save yourself,
Time to quell the riots.
But it’s clear that you lack the will,
The mercy to change.

So now you must burn.
Every branch,
Every leaf,
Will be reduced to ash.

I will reclaim what is mine
Like I have done so many times before.
And your claim to my heart
Will go up in smoke.