Day two and you tell me you love me. And I crave the words so bad that for a second I let them wash over me like it's reality.
But actually, you're just some tool.
But actually, you're not.

Where people use words like alcoholic and *******, I use words like healing and hurt. Too curious about a world that keeps burning you when you reach out the touch it.

I don't see this scary person that you warned me away from. But I see someone I relate to, someone I can easily speak my mind to. Someone who may just be in as much pain as I am but unable to admit it without metaphor.

I've never seen someone write that beautifully and hurt someone else.

I looked at my wrists today and where my veins used to be were dotted lines
"Cut here" they said.
And I tasted salt on my lips
For a second I thought it was French fries that I consumed earlier
But I realized it was tears
And as I fall to a sack of blood and puddle of tears on the floor
All I can think is another year
Another year without you and I will go crazy
And I will not have you
Because there are girls prettier than me
Because there are girls that are worth more
That think better of themselves
That aren't sick in the ******* head
There are girls out there who you deserve
And not just the one you got stuck with.

A blood stain on a piece of paper
shows so **** much.

I feel so much like you don't care
And I've lost myself deep somewhere
Between whispered lies and whispered truths
I guess ours was the love of youth

But to get you back is all I need
And if you'd give me a clue, give me a lead
I'd wander along, barefoot on broken glass
Just to feed you the questions I need to ask

You are what I want, what I most miss
So feed me your lies along with a kiss

This place, with its cold white walls and it's sterile gray speckled floors.
The nurses take my mouth that cusses far too often as a sign I'm on some kind of drugs, I guess. When I answer the question about what kind of medicine I take they look at me with questions in their eyes when I say "none."
I know that the bruises on my body look bad. I'm malnourished, okay. I don't have time to eat. Need more potassium. I don't shoot up ****** or snort pills. I just take ibuprofen like a normal person.
My head is spinning. But not like normal. Like it's taking me twenty minutes to write this ******* poem. I feel like passing out.
And the doctor will see you now, at the cost of 1,000 dollars to sit in this dumb bed.
I hate our healthcare system.
Why do hospitals feel so much like your trapped in their walls? And so little like they're actually out to help you.

Four Marines lost their lives to what is being called domestic terrorism.
Some sicko with a gun shoots these guys. One of the dead is just 19 years old.
I did not cry because I was sad that four American men lost their lives to violence.
I cried because for the first time, I'm so glad that you're in Japan, so glad that you're so far away.
I'm so glad you're alive.

now this website
is just like reality,

whomever has the
most expendable income
becomes the most known