to the the girls who starve themselves,
the ones that watch their carbs,

you want to feel adored
you´re personality is fading
they´ll eventually get bored.

while striving for more
you settle for less

you can´t seem to love yourself
step on the scale, there go a few numbers
along with your happiness

“Be yourself,”
But then they tell me to change.
“Be unique,”
But then they frown down on all my differences.
“Don’t conform,”
But then they force me to follow their standards.
“Always love yourself,”
But then they call me narcissist and arrogant.
“Be kind,”
But then they tell me to stop being fake.
“Just relax,”
But then they call me lazy.
“Work harder,”
But then they call me too uptight.
“Money can’t buy happiness,”
But then they laugh at me for not being rich.
“Weight doesn’t matter,”
But then they tell me I’m not skinny enough.
“Enjoy being young while you can,”
But then they tell me to grow up.
“It’s okay to be sad,”
But then they tell me other people have it worse.
“Do what you love,”
But then they tell me I’ll never be successful.
“You’ll be okay,”
But then they leave me for someone else.
“It will get better,”
But then they tell me that I’m being overdramatic.
“Be yourself,”
But I no longer know who that is.

Busy hands.
I don’t know
Sorrow is so much more glamorous
Than obsolete joy

If heartbreaks really broke the heart,
Hospital would have been earning ten folds

We fall
Not wanting to let go
Remembering the moments
Where nothing meant forever

We fell
Helping our broken hearts mend
In the silence of the day
Before we dreamed back under again

We're falling
We're always falling

Sometimes, I wish I hadn’t just been the backseat of your car,
Intoxicated. My first drunk hook up. My first. Period.
I picture myself being champagne on Valentine’s Day.
I picture myself being you, nervous in the car, holding Starbucks
because you know I love coffee. Sometimes, I picture myself as her,
calling you a stalker and ignoring your calls,
but then I see myself. I call you beautiful,
turn you into poetry, laugh at your bad jokes,
I see myself as I become your drunk Wednesday night
when you’re sad. I see myself as I say no,
I become a “this is not a good idea”
and you a “we’ll deal with the consequences in the morning.”
We laugh because this hurts too much.
You take her out for dinner and I burrow money
for Plan B because you forgot you don’t like condoms
and clearly have no idea how children are made.
I have already named him. He has your curls and
my anxiety. He is smart. Except, I never wanted kids and
you would be a great father. Instead, you tell her
the beach reminds you of her and I cry in a McDonald’s
bathroom with my friend as relief floods through me that
the test comes negative. I stop talking to you,
move forward, meet someone new and before long
see myself becoming you. Because isn’t that the cycle?
Bad men turn good women into bad women who turn
good men into bad men. I’ll set him free so he can hurt
someone like me, and I drink red wine as I read her
poems about him and me.

The biggest change
In the past three years,
Is that I have become
Someone important
To myself

You think I romanticise suicide?
That I can find glory in death?

You're wrong.

I don't hope for romance, there is no romance in laying six feet deep.

Being defeated by your own mind holds no glory, there is no pride in suicide.

You say...
Get over it.
You can fight this.
It's only in your mind.

And you're right.

It's only im my mind so stop telling me how I feel.

So shut up.

I know it's weak.
Selfish... but it is my choice.
I know you think it's a choice to be happy.
If it was did you really think I would choose this?

sadness
pain
depression

Suicide

Trying to write a goodbye.
Wondering about the music for my funeral.

Suicide

I'm always scared but fighting.
I am weak but never giving up.
Never giving in.

I don't think this is fun.
This is suicide your talking about.
No romance.

Empty of joy and glory.
Suicide.
A way out.

I’ve got to wake up early tomorrow
There’s a stillness in it
That you don’t find in my stomach
It does flips and flips and flips
Brush the hair out of my face again, will you
I know I need it cut

once when i was a child
i sat in a field
surrounded by woods

and watched sparks leap from the fire to my clothes

i remember them dancing
and stinging skin hot
tiny freckle burns
dotting my arms

like stars

i remember the smoke
rising into the sky
and curling like a cat
caressing the darkness

as it twisted upwards and away away

the wood broke and the
scent of elderflower
filled me to the brim
with heady wild-smoke

and i remember thinking
big eyes filled with fire
my mouth just open and breathing the heat in

i want to run through that fire

to the other side within
.