I am inevitable
you can’t stop me from
tearing up your life and
destroying your home
I am invisible
it’s like carbon monoxide
a slow gas leak
a silent ******
you cannot stop me from
becoming a part of you
I am indiscreet
I am microscopic
you will probably fall
in love with me
and we will write poetry
and braid flower crowns
and probably **** a lot
and you will love me
and I will love you
I am ethereal
I am vaporous
I am gone

Dead butterflies on my right arm
Monochrome colored and
Pathetically stained with
Regret and lack of self control
You were so young
With wings as tender as a blooming
Flower and color as bright
As the ocean floor
I didn't mean to crush your
Little wings
But now you can be set free
Cut from this
Aphrodite in chains

You are the perfect medicine
To my bleeding rib cage
And aching monochrome bones
The lies I hold
Under my skin are too much
For me to carry
Alone

Did you know
That girls are more likely to
Commit suicide by something
Slow
Like a bottle of pills
Or a slash at both wrists
So they can wait in the last minutes
With their last breath
For someone to rescue them

A boy however
Is more brash
Crashes his car into a building
Takes a gun to his head
Jumps off a bridge
Because his anger
Leaves no space for hope

I find it interesting
That I want to die
Yet look both ways while crossing
The street
And still quake in fear at the idea
Of someone breaking in
Is this because I'm secretly
Waiting
(What a boring thing)
To be saved?
Or am I just too stubborn
To die
If not at my own hands

Whatever it is
I know that you are the same

You are a car crash waiting to
Happen
And I am an empty bottle of pills
Orange and cracked on the
Bathroom floor

Not good enough
Four syllables
Three words
Two seconds
One meaning
Zero pain
Numb
Where have I gone?

She, with her eyes wide and far searching, and her
palms to the space above her reaches out, and
tastes the bright new world and the blue sky.
It is like sugar in lukewarm water, sweet, and
envious of her ability to breathe in the oxygen
and smell the perennial flowers and feel the wind
across her cheeks. She, who although has lived many
years, is once again taking her first steps, incorrigible
and timid. God, in code places his palms on her back,
and gives a gentle push, helping her along the path she
was destined to take. I, who am that girl at 4 am know now
that He, who unlike any other, is beside me, pushing me to
that path. And the darkness is only a temporary obstacle that
has been teaching my blind eyes to see and my deaf ears to hear.
The lukewarm sugar has now run cold. I think I like it better that way.