i locked the door,
but even i do not know how to reopen it.

sext: i thought of you and put down the razor

and i realized today
how much effort it takes
to love me

because when i do not
love myself
you have to love me
enough for two people

a number is just
a number

a character
written on paper

it has no value
until we give it one

based on
accuracy
amount
rank

please do not
be mad
at the number
for reflecting
the value
that you give to it

you were so
beautiful
that i compared you
to a flower

but i forgot
that flowers withered
until the day
that you died

read at
seen at
not delivered
heart attack

user blocked
call dropped
disconnected
heart stopped

no new notifications

poems that rhyme
arent realistic
because life doesnt
flow that well

if im an optimist,
im naive
if im a pessimist,
im jaded

i took my shirt off
because it still smells like him
and since life is realistic
we dont rhyme

if im an optimist,
im left to fix my own broken stanza
if im a pessimist,
the poem is left unfinished

**** everyone who told me that poems were meant to rhyme

i didnt want
to hold you back
and you had no problem
with holding me down

same place,
but never
the same time.

and what use
is the memory
of your anatomy
but another
pocket of knowledge
memorized without
realization

another
imprint
that i cannot
scrub away
after
i have tested
and failed
even though
i knew
all of the
answers

i poured my
heart
into a jar
with a
hole
in the bottom

halley's comet
comes back around,
but you are not
ethereal enough
to do so
forgivably.

i used to
look at you
like you could
walk on water
or like you
created the stars

but you were really
only a thief
who stole
everything
i had
and smashed it
right before my
eyes

your answering machine
and i
have become
close,
perhaps closer
than you and i
ever were
because at least
it bothers
to answer me

my body
does not belong
to me
so stop
treating my actions
like my own

ice and fire through my veins
stomach meets the floor
brain growing fuzzy behind the ears
i cant see
i cant hear
i cant breathe

i want to wrap my own hands
around my own waist
like your hands once
circled my hips
as if they were a planet
to orbit

except i want to
dig into my own skin
fingernails scraping ****** ribbons
removing your sweat from my pores
your skin from my skin
your blood from my blood

ill destroy my own body
in order to take it back

i said id never
rip you apart,
but that was
before
you turned me
into a monster.

and in those moments
when you ask me,
"are you okay?",
there is too much
light
to say no
and too much
darkness
to say yes

they always told me
that my heart would never heal
if i kept letting it break
and break
and break
and break
but i never listened
and probably never will
because i gave up on caution when i was 12
nowadays i claw at my throat
and tear at my hair
pick at scabs on my forehead
and play with pencil sharpener blades
all to get away
just to get away
maybe one day i'll get away
but for now i am stuck
in this never ending ocean
of chewed up words
and scarred skin
and fragments of memories once held dear
because once anything gets close enough to me it shatters
just as i have shattered myself

i love all of the words
that are not mine
just as i love all of the people
whom i can never have

i am a cycle of paradoxes
contradictory and scared
i repair the things
that should be left to crumble
and i destroy the things
that were meant to stand

i apologize when i dont mean it
im sorry
(no im not)
the eighth deadly sin twice removed
i have no place

sometimes breathing
is an emotional struggle
so do not send me onto the warpath
because eventually i wont know
if im looking to **** you or myself

im flammable
so dont use your words as gasoline
because you will burn with me

your mind
has decided
not to be
your friend
right now -

but i am
always
your friend

what they dont tell you
is that while traveling
on a one way street
sometimes its best to go
in the opposite direction

thinking i had
wrapped myself
around your heart,

i childishly
failed to realize
it was your ankle
instead

these words
are used
to describe,

and you
pin them
to my
forehead.

these words
are used
to describe,

*but i will
not
let them
describe
me.

you tried to repair
the home we made,
but every stair
buckled under your weight,
and every wall
peeled at your touch

"i love you
more
than they
loved you"

but do you
love her better?

he reminded me
that hands
that big
were not only meant
to hurt

and another persons
largeness
was not meant
to make me seem
small

thank you
for swallowing
my hand in yours

thank you
for covering me
with love

i sometimes hope
that i plague your mind
as often as you take over my own

because you are the only
consistent thought i have

and though youve become
more like a stain than a memory

ill never wash myself again
as long as your imprint
remains on my body