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untitled Aug 2015
you are the 3 a.m. ghost
that wakes me from my
deep slumber.
you haunt me in the most
beautiful way possible
and i just can't get enough.
your scent moves swiftly towards,
i hide just to deny the fact that
i am completely drawn to it.
give me your hand before i cower
back to my safe place
because life is scary at times
and you are the only one that
makes me feel some days are
worth living.

i can finally breath,

                *i can finally thrive.
untitled Jun 2015
i remember when i was young
and would connect the freckles
on my mother's leg like it was
a game in one of those silly children's books.
thing's aren't like that anymore...

"why must everything change?"

i'm just a withered flower dying to
know what it's like to finally feel alive.
i want to be home.
my yearn for a placeholder.
this town swallows me whole, willingly.
shocked or overwhelmed.
i bustle underneath my bed only to find childhood memories,
but emerge to something more wishful.
home is but a variable.

i'm left to choose.
untitled Jun 2015
i'm found guilted by only the
misconception that maybe life
will get easier. i find myself
alone late at night even when
surrounded by the people that
should make me feel worth, but
i only seem to find melancholy.
it's easy to let yourself be sad.
it's not easy to get yourself
out of that same sadness.
i whisper goodnight to the people
i love and say goodbye just in case.

even if they don't hear it, at least
somewhere off in the darkness
where my thoughts wander off,
maybe, just maybe, someone will hear.
untitled Mar 2015
short breaths squeezing between
your slightly parted lips unknowingly
harmonize with my nervous heart
and the ticking of the
clock in the hallway.
untitled Mar 2015
a dusty book left on a shelf
only to be forgotten is the only
thing i can compare myself to.
how do you find happiness
when the only thing you find
yourself surrounded by is just
a collection of the saddest novels.
i'm the last dead flower in a
once vibrant garden,
will i ever be watered?

i'm wilted, unwanted and have
not a single feeling of worth.
what's my purpose, i'm bleak,
bleary eyed and left to decay.
the ending to this story has yet
to be finished, but for now
i remain bookmarked waiting
for her to open me once more.

*i want to be your favorite book, i want
to be the story you won't forget
untitled Feb 2015
mental photographs are
flooding my head, i must
burn away every image of you.
when will i strike this match so i can move on.
we both know i'm not that strong.
i remember when the only
worry i had was missing the bus and making sure i was in school
before the bell had rung.
things have changed, they're
continuing to change along
with the seasons.
lonely nights, lonely days, they're
all the same anymore.
help me escape this nightmare,
i can't do it alone.

i'm sorry i can't write. writers block is such a horrible thing to have to endure, i'm trying i swear.
untitled Feb 2015
you said you wouldn't hurt me,
but your words left bruises.
the best i can do for now, sorry.
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