you told me that
drinking
was bad for me
I told you that my
numbness
was worse than any shot of liquor  
it's getting difficult to wake up
again
and I wish I could be a
better
friend
and I feel so bad for the people
who love me against their will

you're
hurting
too and I don't know what to say
because I'm
not
sure that it will be okay

this doesn't mean anything
and I hope that means something

**let me hold your hand

I met you four years ago
and I hated you .

four years later ,
and we are holding each other
on you mattress , and I'm
stuck between finding warmth
in arms that aren't mine ,
and mining trees to make sticks .

you always end up holding me .
you always end up holding me .
you always end up holding me .

and I'm realizing now
that you aren't holding me
so that I will feel better ;
you are holding me because
you see me cracking
and you see the pieces of my
heart breaking off into your hand
and you don't walk away .

you're good at making things ,
and you know how to
put it back together .

and it scares me
that you take so much time
and care into looking at each
piece and finding its place .
because you see things
that I haven't seen .

maybe you're an angel
sent from god to prep me for
eternity ,
or maybe you're a demon
sent from hell
as a house-warming gift ,
but at this point
it doesn't matter ;

just as long as I got to keep you
for a little while .

i

I can’t tell you

how much I miss you

without tearing 
a few pages from your rib

ii
setting your eyes on fire 
begging you not to beg me 
kissing me whilst I try 
not to plant these memory seeds on your lips

iii
they grow into thorns 
piercing my life 
into a sore pink 
like watermelon flesh

iv**
you were born to be remembered , not missed

being missed means you eat up people’s memory space 
leaving them full of you 

but empty of now
and lost searching for a shadow of your smile

when death comes
I’ll need not love –
consumed ,
no wreath or dove
could offer me salvation ,
not when I’m no more .

a weathered stone will bear my name –
identity of once a being
living out existence in
a world of risk , and never seeing
sense of why we’re here .

my genes will die away through child –
hue of eyes and hair , the way of thought ,
will quickly dim with generation –
bow to future dominance –
memories of provenance
resigned to curious few .

when death comes
I’ll need not grace
below ; no grieving face
will call my resurrection,
not when I’m at ground –

when she kissed

the moon good night 
stars bashfully twinkled .
the black on her lips

stained the night sky
 .
everyone thought it a bad omen .

I said

this is how the heavens love
 ;
this is how you love
 .
you paint home your favorite color
I put lavender flowers in my heart .


everyone said

this purple
doesn’t make you king
 .

I said

*this is how
you start being human .

drinking
is bad for you, he says
I told him that my
numbness
was worse than any shot of liquor  
it's getting difficult to wake up
again
and I wish I could be a
better
friend
and I feel so bad for the people
who hurt like I do
your
hurting
and I don't know what to say
because I'm
not
sure that it will be okay
this poem doesn't mean anything
and I hope that means something

let me hold your hand

life isn’t that hard, he says
sometimes you just have to get in the car without putting your seatbelt on
sometimes you have to get in the wreck
you have to lose five huggies of blood to know what you’re made of

I tell him I don’t have the muscle for that type of therapy

he tells me I’m a fixer upper
the good kind that looks beautiful before she curls her hair and puts mascara on
the kind that doesn’t know how to walk in a straight line because there are too many possibilities
that always looks drunk when she’s driving because her heart doesn’t have a gps

I tell him to leave me alone

he says that when he saw me on that fateful sunday morning he knew I would be his only religion
I’m someone he can have faith in
someone he can believe

I haven’t drank in almost four months
he’s proud of me
he says he loves me, and I believe him

my mother told me
that life
was worth living
and that dying
by my own hand
was selfish

my father said
that he would always be there
after leaving
five times

but I wonder if he knows
how many times
I died
by his foot steps
or by my mothers
second hand smoke

I would rather shoot myself
in the head
than have these demons
control me
and I would rather suffocate myself
than let your smoke choke me
I would rather choose my own fate
than have one chosen
for me
let me breathe oxygen for once
and not have my lungs crushed
by your gym shoes
let my heart not be smashed by
another slammed door
or have my mind poisoned
by your treatment and religion

god was manifested to manipulate
in whatever way
suits you best

let me not be tied down to a leash

let me not die by your hand

let me die
by my own

a pause                                 a little emptiness

each year harder to live within .

each year harder to live without .

and I'm finding it hard
to live at all
with the loud pauses ;
with the tiring emptiness .
something has to give .
oh , what I would
give
to have you here .
it's black outside , black enough
to hide my sins ,
and I want you to see me
like this .
pure .
innocent .

I love                                                   you
more than you will ever
see ;
more than you will ever
begin to fathom .

blind yourself
with the dark of night ,
and visit me
with closed eyes ;
visit me
with open lungs
and an open soul .

you spilt love too young

too young to know how to bend ;

too little to carry morning dew on your back
you fretted about things that made god angry ,

who sends a wolf to a praying child ,
even if they were born running .
forget dreams that make you old

learn to make love

without breaking everything that  you touch .

use your body ;
use it to put me to sleep .
the warmth of your breath on my skin ..
i have become a plant , taking in your carbon dioxide and making sugar that forms on my lips .


love is warm , but not as warm as you are ..
your hands are 200 Kelvin ,
and sometimes i have blisters in the morning when i wake up , if you have been there the night before .


love is cold , but not as cold as you are ..
your lips are far below freezing ,
and sometimes i become numb on my chest , and my mouth , and my neck .


love hurts me , but not as much as you do ..
but I have algolognia ,
and that pain transforms into instant pleasure as you bite , and pull , and pinch .

i.
i think i have a bug bite
for every
kiss that you planted on my
neck ,
arms ,
chest .
ii.
my jaw is set on
vibrate
and your legs are between my legs .
sensative .
i can't speak ,
and i can barely breathe straight ,
but i can feel ..
iii.
pretty .
like i matter .
my body is outside
and inside
and i can see you and me ,
feel you and me .
iv.
lights dance on and i start praying to a god
i don't believe in
that we're not caught and it's not ruined .
and that this isn't a dream .
and that you're real .
vi.
you come over the next morning .
and you smile .
and i smile .
and it starts all over again .
over and over and over and over in my head
on my neck .
on my arms .
on my chest .
in my mouth .
v.**
i love you .

i feel void of words ..
                                  paragraphs and sentences are the same number of letters and 60 seconds is only a minute from now .
our minds can't think that far ahead , but the
hour glass that i'm staring at is the most mesmerizing thing i have ever laid eyes on .

we're never done killing time , but at least the stopwatch hasn't hit a mark that has made you feel
hollow inside .

  people say that love is young ,
but sweetest our love is centuries older than we have ever known .
we are the time lords .

these words aren’t about you .

they’re about the person I let rent space
inside my heart .

they’re about the times I wished I could go back

and say to them ,

*“no
it’s okay , you can stay longer ;

I don’t care
if your payment is late ."
*

because having you there was enough.

but these words aren’t about you .

they’re for the person still hiding behind these drained eyes .

these shaking fingers .

these weak limbs .

and I’m still not sure which is better ;

to feel everything at once or nothing at all .

because sometimes it is both ,

and you are the gushing waters drowning my lungs .

and sometimes it is neither ,

and you are the words I wish I could drink from the sea .

*we always left so many of them unsaid ,
*
letting our bodies do the talking .

but now I wonder how many conversations 
we’ve had with each other when we

thought we were asleep .

It’s Whatever

Multitasking is impossible, did you know that?
Especially when you’re focused on one thing,
And not really worrying about the other.

When you love someone you give them your heart, did you know that?
Then they carry it around with them,
And if they love you in kind, they’ll hold it close and keep it warm.

I gave you my heart, did you know that?
I gave before you were focused on another,
And you shifted your focus a dozen times since then, yet never once onto mine.

It sits in the crook of your arm, did you know that?
Like an afterthought in what little space is left, while you press another into your breast,
And mine bounces around as you step.

It gets cold here, did you know that?
Sometimes the wind is chilling,
Yet that little warmth you spare is enough to live on.

Sometimes my heart falls off, did you know that?
It tumbles off your arm, into the dust and the rocks you might even step on it,
Yet before long you pick it up, brush off the shards

Dragging each bit

Rending its flesh,

Leaving tiny, almost invisible bleeding slashes,

Not because you don’t care,

You just don’t take the time to notice.

Then you set it back in the crook of your arm.

…

Tiny cuts add up to a grievous wound, but you already know that.
And it’s too cold out here to heal.

there's no easy
way to say
these things
but god you
break my *******
heart sometimes
what's worse is
I no longer care
because its you
breaking it
and I can feel
the pieces of
my heart splitting
and falling away
from the vessels
like rocks from a
cliff
i don't know if
I can breathe the
right way or talk
the right way or
if it is even possible
to be the same
person as I was
before the first day
of summer
when your lips
touched mine
and I kept my eyes
open because I
wanted to see how
you acted
I wanted to remember
you by this moment
by how you took
off your glasses
and by how you
looked at me
and ran fingers
through your hair
and how you acted
like a child holding
death in his hands
holding me in
your hands
but they were big
enough to catch
all of the cracked
pieces of my
heart and you didn't
give up on me
when I bit my lip
and said

i don't know

it's what I needed
it's what I need
but you've slipped
out of my grip
my hands are not
as big as yours
and I lost you
to something else
or someone else
or whatever else
you are occupied with
it's not me
and I feel selfish for
saying such things
but I can't help
thinking that you
should answer when
I am crying
because your hands
are not beneath
my heart right now
and the pieces are
stabbing my insides .

**I can't live anymore .

you take a girl.
average weight, average height, average smile, average tone of voice.
you give her a pen.

you give her a pen and tell her she is golden.
that she can do anything she puts her mind to and that she is a shooting star and you tell her to collect all of those scratch-and-sniff stickers that her teachers put on her tests.
you give her hope and love and anything else good that you can think of.

you tell her she can fly.

you buy her a cape, and when she climbs to the roof and jumps off, only to sprain her ankle, you kiss her.


but she will still have bad days.

sometimes goodness comes

from treating yourself

not like you burned earth to dust

but like you made it

into a beautiful body . 

crowned it with stars ,

put a precious coat over it

and called it home .

i.
silent words are mouthed through silent bodies ,
and if my love was not enough i don't know what to tell you ..
i have nothing left to give .

ii.
heavy hearts come with loose sleeves , but you're wearing your great grandfather's cuff links ,
so i won't have to worry about your soul slipping .

iii.
sleep doesn't do much for me now ,
neither love , nor singing , nor reading Shakespeare out of an English textbook with twenty owners ..
but when words snake out of those torn lips , honey , my breath travels with them .

iv.**
you're gone ....
honey doesn't flow as easily now , but the bees still sting just as fiercely .
flowers hardly bloom this time of year .
snow piles on the driveway , and my car is stuck .
i can't come visit you ...
you're gone ....

my father is a blind man.
heavy drooping lids with even heavier dripping blood.

i am his failure that was only good at one thing.
swimming past the others.

and maybe i'm not the perfect daughter;
maybe you weren't expecting the *** or drugs or parties or ****** language,
but ******* for acting like it meant i was dead.

you do not own me.
you will not write my eulogy when i finally succeed after failed attempts.
you will not say how i had a beautiful heart and YOUR sense of humor.
i will write my own goodbye letter.
and yes, maybe every i love you feels like a swallowed, searing coal.
and yes, maybe my signature at the bottom of the loos-leaf sheet of blood-stained paper will remind you to acknowledge your two other children, and stop saying that i am your favorite.
i am not your favorite.
you should be willing to stay for a favorite.

so leave me the **** alone
to bleed in peace.

I am fourteen
and my skin has betrayed me  
the boy I cannot live without  
still ***** his thumb
in secret
how come my arms are
always so ******
what if I die
before morning
and mother's in the bedroom  
with the door closed.

I have to learn how to dance  
in time for the next party  
my room is too small for me  
suppose I die before graduation  
they will sing sad melodies  
but finally
tell the truth about me
There is nothing I want to do  
and too much
that has to be done
and mother's in the bedroom  
with the door closed.

Nobody even stops to think  
about my side of it
I should have been on Math Team  
my marks were better than his  
why do I have to be
the one
wearing braces
I have nothing to wear tomorrow  
will I live long enough
to grow up
and mother's in the bedroom  
with the door closed.

her.. only her.

she pulls at my insides while you whisper i love you
behind the backs of your dearest friends.
she knows that you never hid your affections for her from anyone.
not even me.
and she sits in my skull,
begging for me to break in and release her broken bones
from behind my weary eyes.
because until she feels at peace, until she has been released from
the captivity of my cranium, she will never stop.
not until he stops loving you.
it should be me. you know that miranda. this is all a facade so that he feels
better about you not being 100% most days.

i ask if you still think about her.
you say yes, but not as much as i think of you.

and i know then it is the end.
she takes the swords of her tongue and
shoots them through the ashes of my nervous system.
**** yourself.
he would have never loved you had i not left.

a continuous loop of negativity and hatred slipping its' way
through my veins and arteries. almost as bad as heroine; twice as deadly as heroine.

you tell me it's all in my head;
that if i would just breathe that i could get through this.
in
but you don't understand the pain that runs as hot as lava
down my throat when i take that first breath of oxygen.
out
how when she screams it echoes through my head
while shooting pain sneaks its' slithering poison into my dreams.
the medication will never erase her.
they will never get rid of this swallowing pit of loneliness or
the fact that you will never love me in the same way you did her.

her.. only her.

if you
can't see anything beautiful about yourself ,
get a better mirror .
look a little closer ,
stare a little longer ..
because there is something there inside of you that made you
keep trying , despite everyone who told you to quit ...
you built a glow-in-the-dark cast around your broken heart so that in the night
when the darkness tries to swallow you whole ,
you have a light to hold onto ..
you built a cast , and you signed it yourself .


you signed                                                           ­     **" they were wrong ."

when I wake up in the morning I want
your sheets to be tangled between our legs.
I want your arm to be swung lazily around my bare back and
I want your warm breath on my skin. when I wake up I
want you to love me. I want
the forests of your chest and the city streets of your
fingertips.

I want your smile to sneak around your lips and pull me in
close
because my fidgeting body of morning awoke the landmines of your pores. I want
that first yawn and
the sound of you
stretching your lungs. I want

to feel your eyes on me as I get dressed, as I brush my hair.
I want to see you t-shirt tug across your arms and
land on your torso. I want to curl up
beside you and drink coffee as I trace the
constellations of freckles on your forearms.

I want you to kiss me.

this tornado was made of light..
it was breaking apart all the darkness.. in this shaded world
with orange skies, tornadoes of light color the black and orange
and bring forth shine..
but light is not always a sign of goodness and hope..

this dark world would seeing the end of itself..

i grabbed you and i
asked you how i
could possibly make you
happy .
and you looked at
me , and told me
you'd be happy if
i was happy .

i tried so *******
hard to
fix myself ,
but you were gone
by the time i started to smile .

it’s 3:50 a.m. and I am laying here

thinking nothing

feeling nothing

dreaming nothing
I have no fate

no destiny

just plans that never turn out right

plans that I make

plans that I destroy
I regret it now

the day I looked at you

and my heart stopped beating

and my mind whispered

" you will love him , and he , love you ."

it never goes according to plan
because I love you now

enough for 
7 billion 46 million people

who have the audacity to

think they matter

feel they matter 

dream they matter
and you 
have not given me

a second glance ..

let alone 
a first one .

my mind is filled with shadows and weakness and
he is sleeping in his bed 6 miles away.

walking distance; running distance.

every pore of my scarred skin is filled with missing him and alcohol.
every dent in my flesh was raised by werewolves;
they only turned red at night.
my eyes only flow oceans at the hours I feel emotionless.

my mother puts crayons and coloring books in the backpacks of her children.
says that when they are angry, they should write down what they feel in the color that fits best.
now when I go to school it is all Ticonderoga #2

happy  gray
sad  gray
angry  gray
scared  gray

sleeping feels better than being awake

but the more I sleep , the worse I feel when I am awake

which seems obvious , but nothing quite is

when I am not with you , 
which also now seems obvious .
I want to do my one good deed for the day

but as soon as those words enter my head in that order

I feel disgusting and it feels ruined .

my head prattles away
with some other part of my head

about this and that ,
I don’t know . 

I wasn’t invited .
I’d never say this is the worst day ever ,
or whatever .
not everything needs to be said .

my mother has taught me ten things;
1. *** is a sin. pleasure is a sin. cursing is a sin.
2. happiness and selfishness are equals
3. drugs are only bad when you are a teenager, but it is okay to sulk about them if they are a part of your damaged past.
4. the mirror you stare into each day should be looked at with disgust and agony.
5. when looking into another human's eyes be wary of swimming in the colorful veins and muscles of each iris. you will get too attached and become broken.
6. love is to be given, not taken, nor accepted. every compliment is undeserved and every wound is earned.
7. let a man take your life and crush it into powder the jet-rockets up to your brain. let him dissolve into your bloodstream and control every muscle movement.
8. a mother has the right to every possession that you call your own. she brought you into this world through unholy actions, and she may take you out the same way.
9. the world breaks you body down into soil that will be dug up and replaced with busy sidewalks. you are impermanent.
10. you will never be complete on your own; you must always lay your heavy head on someone else's shoulder instead of learning to balance it between your own.

You’re my entire universe. I see you in every single star. Every single planet.

2. I don’t need you but I want you so much that I can barely breathe.

3. Please stop smoking cigarettes.

4. Come to bed.

5. I wasn’t afraid of dying until I met you.

6. You’re mine. If I could tattoo tastes, I’d get your coffee soaked lips stained onto my tongue. I don’t care how much it would hurt. I want to swallow you down with everything I touch.

7. You’re a wildfire.

8. I feel you in my fingertips.

9. I can’t get enough of you. Even when you’re here, pressed up against me, intertwined with me, so close that I feel the blood flowing through your veins, I’m still finding ways to get you closer.

10. I’d sit through some horrible french film without subtitles for a few hours if it meant getting to accidentally brush my knee against yours.