i was tired of feeling so much
bigger on the inside,
       so instead of letting myself free
       i just poured myself out

(and what a shame, i ended up
a puddle instead of an ocean)

i cannot imagine
how it must feel
to actually want
what i pretend i crave

Smile, darling-
No one can hear your hollow wails
when lips are closed
and turned up to the unforgiving sun.
Blackness is only a shade of light
beneath your downy mouth,
a shadow of your solitude, and nothing more.
The faint, wet glisten in your eyes
reflects the bronze and porcelain faces
looming down over your tear stained cheeks.
Frustration comes a shade too light
to be seen over the rosy red hues of laughter
sprinkled across your one dimensional grin.
Your laugh lines stretch out
until they gently brush up against the
soft white hair that frames your ears,
leaving no room for sorrow
pushed somewhere off the grid
of your proportionate composure.
*Life's clock can only tick as fast
as minutes do condense,
and happiness will never last
beyond the present tense.

paint away the grey smudges
underneath your eyes
little black rainclouds
of your demise
cautiously stroke
inside the lines
so no one will notice
their actual size
and the lack of skill
lack of will...
little red
what goes on in your
tear-soaked
head
why do you
sit up in your bed
so late
why don't you
finish the day
with a little game
of pretend
it will carry you through
till the end
honey,
every thespian
will tell you
never to leave home
without a mask
darling,
you never know
when you'll need to
act

fear
that is not dealt with
but pushed aside
shoved down
buckled into a suitcase
still existing
just out of sight
is fear that will return
fear that will
conquer
fear that is waiting
for the most opportune moment
to spring its jail
and defeat
you
because you never
thought about it
until it was
too late
littleredwritinghood,
you are
in trouble
you can hold that fear under the surface
all you want
but it will not drown
fear has enough faces
to replace
any one that manages to fade
fear is
your mother's
face

once there was a boy
with zipped up lips and scars on his heart
he met a girl
they never spoke
she saw the slashes on his wrist
but she didn't know how to communicate
what it means to care

I still crave for the
Crimson liquid to flow
Out of me.
But thinking of your
Tousled curly locks and
your sea green eyes
with that hint of
grey around the irises
Makes me come back to
reality and I know that
Its best if I don't
use the blade tonight.

under the layers
of inky, endless night -

no stars
no planets.

only bitter dust.

Oh
the things we
see when

our dreams leave
us.