scars cut like roads
that wind around your bones
it was snowing ashes
and your heart was aflame
your tongue grew cold
because you grew silent
your teeth were tired
and your feet ached
you hated your skin
but your eyes dried
and your fingers lay stiff
while the pain carried you away

Forget me not I beg of you
for it will leave an ugly residue
on my heart

seasons change
as well as my mood
but never my scars

for many hours
I dedicate to sitting
in the dark

I often think
of the moon
and how alike we are

to be seen
but never
understood

to be heard
but always
ignored

to stand alone
forever and never
to be longed for

hearts that drip with blood
don't belong
inside cold
empty shells like us

so the clouds
steal our breath
and leaves rustle
telling us their stories of death

so our lonely souls
become miserable enough
to do society a favor
and clean up our own mess

the only difference
between us two
is I can die
but he will remain glued
brightly to the heavens
as I fade here on earth

The breath-taking colors of death
float to the ground with the breeze
littering the earth with the promise
that the world is soon to die
skeletons of who we used to be
so much alike the trees
when the forest is turned
into a graveyard
the icy wind blows in
and mimics that of my frozen heart
the snow drifts are higher
inside of my chest
than along the roads
spring awakens souls
and colors burst protesting
they were never truly dead
but still I stand with
winter in my veins
and the colors of death
under my skin

I drank because it was a little less toxic
Than the sensation of drowning
Swaying to the music I could forget
The waves pulling me under for a moment

I searched for comfort
Among cold, hallow people
Bones had never shown love
And that didn't change

I was left to my pernicious thoughts
Little girls shouldn't be morbid
But women aren't made of love
Though it is a common misconception

skeleton hills
stand tall
even though
they stand dead

trees like
backbones
poking through
the hills flesh

don't cry
my dear
they chose
to die here

death shall
be beautiful
just look at
those skeleton hills

low clouds
hang frames
along the
mountains back

wildflowers
grow promising
life does show
on skeleton hills

dry your
tears for
it's the sky's
turn to cry

If I
could chose
I'd die
right here

dignified death
for they
stand dead
on skeleton hills.

the unfortunate incidence
of an infliction
stops my heart from beating
stops my lungs from breathing
stops my eyes from seeing

I don't know where I'm going
but I don't think that it's pleasant
I can tell from the tightness in my chest
that I will soon regret it

the only cure is freedom
but I can't run for
trying to keep breathing
I'm slipping and falling down

I'm locked inside a cage
made of my own bones
and my vision is blurred
from what my own eyes see

save me I'm going under
it's much harder to breathe here
in this twisted land of agony
it's all I can do to hold on

I bet you didn't see this coming
don't worry I tried to hide
the pain that is eating me alive
and now I'm scared it's killing me
but I'd like to die with my dignity

I'm sorry for all I've done to you
and all I never got the chance to say
farewell to all I love here
I'm sorry I must leave you
but this is the only way...
I can catch my breath

your bones like gravestones
prominent among the barren skin
you laugh the whisper of the dead
and your teeth fell out from caring

you were beautifully ruined
by thunderstorms in your head
your smile is all but dead
you can't stand the sight of yourself

you have fallen among the rest
skeletons of who they used to be
a wounded army of solders
fighting for peace within their souls

the body count is heartbreaking
for mothers who clean up the blood
and wish they could've been happier
as they gasped for air with burnt lungs

high school hallways are turned into
a backwards funeral procession
they mourn the living
because they all feel dead

paradise is their only cure
but what is the definition
longing for an infinite silence
muted mouths rejoice at the emptiness

everything about you is wrong
but the presence of individuality
has quieted and so has
the sound of your beating heart