I was born without a family,
Always stayed inside my bed,
I never had a friend,
By 15 I was dead,

You found me in my closet,
With a noose around my neck,
You knew that I was gone,
Called my brother in to check,

Your suspicions turned out true,
I guess it's not so bad,
I mean he didn't amount to much,
And he was always way too sad,

I was forgotten by next week,
No funeral was had,
No one to call and tell,
Not even his own dad.

I am aware this isn't true,
Just how things play out in my head,
Please just let me be so selfish,
Please don't miss me when I'm dead.

my utter inability
    to take responsibility
             is killing me...
                    and the possibility
                            of Heaven's plausibility
                                     is thrilling me...
                                            while my capability
                                                    to harness my hostility
                                                          is willing me...
                                                               And the last of my civility
                                                                    Disappears in mere futility
                                                                          As death's cool kiss is chilling me...

Maybe medication is the answer for me
I'm sure I'd like it a lot more
If you shoved pills down my throat daily
Than all of the words you put in my mouth

I was warming up tea and I put it in for a little too much time.
But it was too long so my tea boiled over and made a mess.
But that didn't mean I could never make tea again.
It just meant I had to wipe it up better and be more careful next time.
This reminded me of life.
That sometimes things bombard your life and everything happens at once.
And what happens?
You break
You boil over
But no matter what it is, not matter how much it hurts.
You just have to pick yourself up.
Brush off your hands.
And smile a little longer.

A surgeon at the end of his day,
Careless cuts, it's just a brain,
They all just said to hope and pray,
Those careless cuts, won't leave a stain,

We spend our time watching the clock,
Barely touching, with pistols cocked,
I'll pull your trigger if you pull mine,
The blood stains will wash out with time,

That's what I told her before she left,
Noose tied tight, gasping for breath,
Distance evident, by the growing lack of conversation,
Those careless cuts, a careless operation.

I search
                                      for the words

                                                          ­                     I
wrote on my hips;

                                              but
                                                                ­              not another word,

                  left my frozen lips.

                                                          ­                      There is no way to
                                                                ­      springtime,

        the winter,
                   takes her tole.

                                                               ­       I bury myself away,
                                                         in this 3 pillow,
                                           double bedded hole.

Darling, but I keep myself sane.
               I dream of flowers in my hair & the warmth in your name.
    Early July conversations,
                        tapping strings, how we'd softly sing
                                           & were guided to one another's lips
      at the very touch of our finger tips.
                               I always thought I was better than this,
                                                                                                 but
                                                             ­            Love,
                                                                ­              
                                     Your heart is one I often miss.