I.
If a boy teases you,
he is a ****.
Stand up for yourself.

II.
It is entirely acceptable
to wear brown with black
and silver with gold.

III.**
If it is three a.m.
and you still don't understand the quadratic formula,
go to bed.

IV.
When you get your heart broken
(and you definitely will),
ask yourself if they are worth crying over.

V.
By all means,
whenever there is rain,
go outside.

VI.
You are not a girl,
you are a person.
Behave as such.

VII.
Dress however you want.
Dye your hair unnatural colors.
Wear men's clothing.

VIII.
Have seconds.
Eat dessert.
Eat second dessert.

IX.
Love until it hurts,
and then ask yourself
if it is still worth it.

X.
Always be truthful,
gentle,
and fearless.

I still don't know
how much of us
was real

This year will be bigger and better and involve less time in bed or possibly much more and this year will be loud and there will be bright lights and high heels and there will be hand holding and so many ******* hugs and I will eat pasta because I love pasta and I will not feel bad about that and I will make plans and then not cancel them and I will show up despite the knot in my stomach and I will laugh way too loud because I can and that is a beautiful thing and I will treat new acquaintances like old friends because people like it when you do that because it makes them feel good about themselves and I will make people feel good about themselves because that is a beautiful thing and I will feel good about myself because I deserve that and I will eat three meals a day and exercise and sleep eight hours a night because I deserve that and I will buy an unnecessary but adorable sweater every now and then because I have earned that and I will tell people I love them because they have earned that and they deserve to hear that and I will mean it when I tell people that life is great because I deserve that.

1.
A boy dropped his pen on the floor next to me
and I took it.
I said it was mine when he asked about it.

2.
I didn't cry when
my cat
or my dog
or my great grandma
died.

3.
I read the text.
I just didn't want to talk to her.

4.
I broke up with him
on the phone
because I thought he might cry
if I did it in person.

5.
I stopped talking to him
when I got a boyfriend.
I started talking to him again
when we broke up.

6.
We flirted for 2 years.
He told me he loved me.
I told him he was like a brother.
He started doing ****.

7.
I knew his dad hit him.
I didn't tell anyone.

8.
I told her to stop talking to me
because she was too depressing.
She went to rehab for self harm.

9.
When he told me he wanted
to **** himself,
I told him a million reasons he shouldn't,
but never once said
*don't.

Adding apologies to artillery shells does not amend the action,

And

My brokenness betrays me when it bellows that I have beaten bruises black and blue into your back

But

Crying is a catharsis much too commonplace to convey these casualties.



My doubtful disposition has denied you deliverance from your daring endeavors

Because

Emptying myself to entertain someone else's enormous sense of entitlement

Is

A feeling that frightens my already fragile sense of forwardness.



Glory from a god who glances generously upon us growling ghosts

Is

A Heaven that hurts like hell because happiness is heresy

But

Isolation is an independence I never intended to introduce here.



Juggling jokes and jealousy between juggernauts is jeopardizing my judgement

Because

Kindness is to knowing the truth as kissing is to your knuckles,

It's

Like living life as a lamb but loving a lion.



Missiles gone missing are making me misunderstand my own memory

Yet

Needles have never seemed so necessary as when you're near,

And

Ownership is not an option so we have both become orphans.



Praying to people seems more plausible than pleasing a perfect being

So

I will quantify rather than qualify the quaintness of this quarantine

And

Respectfully reply that paying retribution to a ***** is ridiculous.



Soon something will surface that sends shivers down your spine

But

Today there is only turmoil taking its time to taper off

So

Understand when I utter the word "unify" that I mean us.



Vain and vindictive as you have very well verified being,

If

We worship with what we wish, not what we will,

Our

Exploitation will exemplify an axis on which oxymoron is expedient.



You and your yearning will not yield to yonder threats,

Because

The zeal of this zephyr will carry us to the zenith.

I have a friend
who is in a state of
constant action.
Whether it is
talking
or walking
or kissing
or smoking,
she is doing.

I never understood why,
never understood how she could
always be bored
when things slowed down,
never understood why
silence wasn't peaceful to her,
until now.

When there are demons in your head
that whisper into the empty spaces,
you look for other sounds to drown them out;
you look for something
-anything, really-
that gives you something to think about
other than the aching in your chest.

But soon it becomes less of a habit
and more of a necessity.
You start getting desperate,
calling friends at 2am,
sneaking out to walk to the park
because at least you're not
trapped in your ******* room,
and with desperation comes regret.

You start doing things you're not proud of
but at least the demons were quiet
while you were doing it
so you do more to
forget about that regret
and so on.

And it works for a while.
But the demons will creep back in,
hiding between teeth
and in ash
and under beds,
until eventually
there is no where left
for you to run.

The night is dark
and the wolves are hunting
but the fire burns hot
as it illuminates her face.

Her hands find warmth
reaching toward the flame,
but her back is exposed
to the bitter wind.

The fire does not protect her
against the chill of night,
and only when she turns to walk away
does she feel its heat on her neck.

The cold dark has taught her
that a fire only lights one side.
The only way to be safe
is to find a warm home deep in these woods.

I cannot tell you I love you,
cannot let you know what you mean to me
because it will only make it harder for me to leave,
cannot give you the burden of my last sentiments,
cannot curse you without your consent
and God forbid you say it back,
God forbid you shorten the list of things this place lacks,
I just want to go,
want to get out of here on my own,
want to spoil my own reputation
so you will not curse the earth for my disintegration,
I cannot leave you with anything to miss,
cannot let you regret the moments we did not kiss,
I cannot tell you I love you.

I CAN'T WRITE ABOUT YOU
BECAUSE YOU HAVEN'T
BROKEN MY HEART YET
AND THE ONLY INK I USE
IS MY OWN BLOOD

I texted you
at 12:30 a.m.
with a beer can on my bedside table,
asked you
if you remember
how my lips taste,
told you
it's been a while
since anyone's touched me
like you used to,
added
haha, I love you
to texts that
didn't quite make sense;

I asked for it.

That's what I keep
telling myself.
It's not ****
if I gave consent,
it's not ****
if you didn't touch me,
it's not ****
if I said yes when
you offered to make me less lonely.

I remember when
that boy you were always jealous of
told me he loved me,
I remember wanting to say it back,
I remember the smell of
my mom's *****
on his breath.

I said no.
Took his arm off my shoulder,
turned my head away,
told him not to kiss me,
told him not tonight,
told him he was drunk,
he was lying to himself,
he was just lonely,
he would not love me
in the morning.

I was right.
He told me
the last thing he remembered
was sitting down next to me,
he said
sorry if I tried anything,
I said he didn't.

My point is,

the boy I loved,
longed for,
still long for,
was giving himself to me,
his flushed cheek on my shoulder,
his hands in my hair,
my name on his lips,
and I said no.

My point is,

I, whom you knew to be vulnerable,
to be empty,
to be broken,
was begging you to save me,
my desire on your phone screen,
my scars in your memories,
my cries echoing in your eardrums,
and you asked for more.

My point is,

there comes a point
in every person's life
when they are given the choice
to do the right thing,
or do the wrong thing
and convince them self
it was the only option.

My point is,

I could have been
at your doorstep,
in your bedroom,
begging,
pleading,
naked,
ready,
and the right answer
still would have been
no.

My point is,

you did not **** me,
but you made me feel violated.
You are not a *** offender,
but you are an awful person.
I did say yes,
but you should have said no.

My point is,

I may have asked for it,
but that doesn't mean
you should've given it to me.

This is a lonely phone call,
this is the hole in my chest,
this is my 7th shot.
This is spelling please wrong in texts,
this is crawling out the window barefoot,
this is driving without headlights.
This is him, being there.
This is his hand on my thigh,
this is whiskey flavored kisses,
this is turning the lights off.
This is not love making,
this is bone ache
heart break
bed shaking.
This is avoiding eye contact,
this is telling him I should leave,
this is getting dressed on opposite sides of the room.
This is a quiet drive home riding shotgun,
this is trying to act casual so he doesn't get the wrong idea,
this is secrets I keep from my best friend,
this is ***.
That's all this is.

I heard that people's hearts
are the same size as their fists.

When you told me you loved me
everything was soft around the edges.
The palms of your hands were smooth
as you ran them over every inch of me,
reading me like Braille.
It was gentle.
It was kind.

I heard that people's hearts
are the same size as their fists.

When you told me I broke your heart
everything was shattered and fragmented.
Your knuckles were jagged and ******
as you turned my flesh to pulp,
beating every last I'm sorry out of me.
It was brutal.
It was angry.

I heard that people's hearts
are the same size as their fists.

They say that a person's heart
is the same size as their fist
but when you said I love you it hit
harder than your hand ever did
and I may have two black eyes
but yours are the color of fresh cut grass
and your heart must beat faster
than a hummingbird's wings
because your fist moved like
the needle of a sewing machine on my skin
but I was the one stitching myself back up
and I am covered in bruises
shaped like the hand I used to hold
but they will never hurt as much as
the last time I felt your pulse

When I was younger
my mom told me not to trust animals
And not to get too close
because no matter how nice they seemed
They might get scared
and bite me.

I don't know why she expects me
to trust people.

Art is either plagiarism or revolution,
but
we've all
heard that
before.
It feels like
originality is impossible
when only given
twenty-six
characters to work with,
and so
these are not
my thoughts,
this does not
belong to me,
I am
writing the same things
that all those before me have written.
We are either replicas or denying it.

Today I watched your
lungs turn inside out against themselves,
the air unsure of where to go so it just
hovered
in that middle space between coughs,
when you thought you'd caught your breath but
your voice hitched when you tried to talk and
you started choking again,

I saw
that today, your
eyes watering as you struggled to
remind your body how to sustain itself,
you cussed between fits and asked,
"isn't this supposed to happen on its own,"
you wheezed,
"shouldn't something so
instinctual
be easier than this?"

You didn't sound like you wanted an answer so I
kept my mouth shut,
brought you a glass of water.

With a body temperature
Below 96 degrees Fahrenheit,
Wrapping yourself in bed sheets
As translucent as your skin
Seems so nice but
Every minute you spend
Shivering is more calories burned,
So you try to ignore it
Or maybe you do two hundred more crunches
Because being athletic is healthy,
Right?

You open the pantry only to
deny yourself sustenance because you
are unworthy of
These simple pleasures, and
You almost let yourself
Eat an apple but
When you remember how
Good that girl in
the thinspo you have
Hidden on your phone looks,
You stop.

You flinch when your mother
Calls your skin porcelain,
Because that word means
You failed to restrain yourself
And you have always been taught to
Resist temptation, and
This is the ultimate test.

I'm doing the best I can but I can't do this anymore, I keep crying in my sleep, keep having nightmares. I thought I saw a ghost yesterday until I realized I was looking in the ******* mirror, I'm haunting my own house, possessing my own body, I'm ******* the life out of myself. I tied a noose around my finger just to prove that I could do it, I keep a razor in my purse just to prove that I could do it, to prove to myself that I'm strong enough to not do it, but they keep whispering my name. The bottle of mouthwash with 5% alcohol keeps screaming at me and I can't use it anymore, it leaves that taste in my mouth, tastes like hangover and relapse and accidents, and they're all teasing me with promises of making it all just stop and God it sounds so sweet, sounds so sweet, I know it's not.

DO YOU REMEMBER THE NIGHT I HAD SIX DRINKS AND YOU HAD NONE

BECAUSE I DON'T

I want to destroy.
I want to burn,
to break,
to bleed;
I want to feel the sting
of shattered glass
tearing through the tough skin
of my heels.
To see red.
To ache.
I want to breathe smoke.

Looking at myself now,
I am not sure that I recognize
any piece of who
I used to be.

Our cells are constantly
replenishing and replacing,
and technically speaking,
I am not at all
the person I once was.

I understand that I
am a collection of my experiences
and that everything I have
done has led me to this moment.
I do not know what has come of
the choices I
made opposing this.

The patches of my skin
that only said yes
when they meant it have
peeled away and are
replaced by the fresh
tissue of compliance.

If I am
the sum of my experiences
then why are there no
scars on my thighs from
the times I smiled?
If I am
the sum of all of my experiences
then why is there
a fracture in my arm from
anger but not from love?

If I am really
the sum of all of my
experiences then
why does my body
only show my regrets?

Your car is a pressure cooker for sibling combustibility and
you sound pretentious when you call me pretentious so
I turn to look out the window and not at
your smug face but I know that
soon I will turn back and you will not be there.
In your mind
anything that isn't inherently evil
deserves a high five
and it always leaves my palm
stinging,
so I leave you there
with your hand raised
and know that
soon I will raise mine but you will not be there.
You say "I love you" every day
and it always sounds like a joke,
sounds like you're teasing me with the fact that
I have to love you back but even so,
on the days when I refuse to say it to you I know that
soon I will tell you I love you and you will not be there.

I have watched you changed
shoe sizes and
heights and
dreams and
hair cuts and
best friends and
priorities, and
You have been by me through
moving days and
funerals and
breakups and
marriages and
sobbing nights and
cheerful mornings, and
I know that
you are a part of me,
and I know that
soon I will look for that part but you will not be there.

There were moments,
days,
months
when I didn't think I would make it this far.
I keep thinking back to when everything broke,
to when I started sinking,
and I am wondering how it is possible
that I haven't hit bottom yet.

I'm wondering if there is a bottom.
I'm wondering if maybe,
you just keep sinking,
and sinking,
and sinking,
until eventually you run out of breath
and your lungs force you to inhale salt water
because it is the only thing left around you.

You're supposed to let out little bubbles of air,
never all of it at once.
Your body can keep using the oxygen left in your lungs
and you can breath out the carbon dioxide,
but eventually your chest will be empty.

And then you will swim.

That's when you kick,
pull,
claw at the surface,
drag your water-saturated body
toward the place you used to call home.

You will not make it.

You have been falling for so long
that it is impossible
to make up for the time lost.

Keep swimming.

As you get closer to the surface
your lungs will ache from oxygen deprivation.
Your legs will not be as fast or strong.
You will begin to lose consciousness.

But the sunlight will start to break through.

Ultraviolet rays penetrating the surface
will caress your arms,
you will remember what safety feels like,

you will smile.

You will close your eyes.

You will stop fighting the pull of gravity.

Corpses float.

I DON'T KNOW WHY
I'M SO HELLBENT ON
DESTROYING MYSELF

When I was younger
I was stick thin.
My aunt pulled my mom aside and cautiously whispered
Do you think she's been eating enough?
My third grade teacher
gave me the nickname
Skinny Minnie,
my gym teacher told me to
go eat a cheeseburger.

Now I look in the mirror
and cannot find my younger self.
My aunt did not blink an eye
when I said
I'm not hungry.
My teacher does not question
when I bring only a water bottle to lunch,
someone, please,
tell me to go eat a cheeseburger,
because I have only eaten
two-hundred calories today
but no one is calling me skinny.

That first puff,
the first sip,
the burn in my throat,
light headed
and shaking,
another hit
another shot,
I remember when I promised
never.

I am not
the person I used to be,
I am not
a beacon of hope,
I am a shipwreck
and I can see
the smokestacks falling
into the sea.

Sometimes I have to
remind myself I am awake,
that this is not a dream,
maybe one day
I'll wake up
and it will be.

Do not look at me
like a sob story,
do not ask
for a happy ending,
there is no ending,
this is my life
and it is
ongoing
smoke bumming
***** stealing
blunt passing
cold turkey
relapsing
screaming
screaming
screaming.

Red ribbons
and markers on posters,
this is not
the person
I was
before.

I don't like change,
I keep it tucked away in my wallet,
the only space for it,
no good space,
really,

it just sits there,
weighs down on the frayed stitching in
my old jean pocket and makes things
too heavy on one side,

never worth much,
always just the leftovers,
the things I couldn't trade in for something else so
I got them back,
different now,
heavier,
a stale metallic smell,
not worth as much.

i just took a lot of cold medicine (a lot of cold medicine) and i think i love (love) you and i know you do not want to hear that now and i am sorry (i am sorry (i am sorry)) but i do not know what to do, i am losing faith in everything (everything) and now you are losing faith in me, too (you are losing faith in me, too)

Don't know why this is so hard to write
don't know why my chest aches so much but it does
don't know why there is nothing I can draw or paint that looks like how my head feels
don't know why I want him to love me so bad
don't know how much longer I can go on
don't know if I want to go on
don't know how to tell them I have already given up when they are telling me to keep fighting don't know how to say I already lost
how to say I'm empty
how to say I am bleeding out slowly
how to peel back these bandages
how to let my wounds show
how to show them all the places I tried to stitch my skin back together
they aren't holding because my mom never taught me how to sew
don't know why I hate myself so much
don't know why he doesn't talk to me anymore
don't know if I should call him
don't know why I want to call him
don't know why she never ******* texts me
don't know why she claims to want me
don't know why she would ever want me
don't know where to put my hands
don't know why they're so sweaty
oh God why are they shaking
don't know why God never showed himself to me
don't know why no one ever showed me God
don't know why I need someone to love me so badly
want someone to hold me
why won't anyone fix me
why are people not fixable
why am I so broken
why am I crying

I tried to burn the first flower you ever gave me but
it filled the room with smoke like
cigarettes and
I felt it fill my lungs like your
breath
when we used to kiss and
my throat is raw with missing you

I can picture it so clearly,

I'm sitting at a table by myself,
playing ukulele
because my friend left it
when he left me alone at a table,
and she walks by,
and she smiles at me,
and I stop playing
because I'm shy,
and she asks if she can listen to me play,
and she sits down,
and I play
and it sounds awful
because I'm nervous,
but she claps,
and she laughs because her clap sounds so lonely,
and the combination of those two sounds
is the most amazing thing I've ever heard,
and the crinkles by her eyes
(her astonishingly green eyes)
make me blush,
then she tells me her name
and it sounds like the only true thing I've ever heard,
and I ask for her number
and she gives it to me,
and I watch her leave,
hoping she'll look back and smile,
but she doesn't
and it makes me like her even more,

And my mind tortures me with these memories
that never happened
and wishes
that went unfulfilled,
And I will never love anyone more
than I love the girl with the clap that echoes through my veins
and the name
that sounds like truth.

Sometimes I wake up in the morning without the knot in my chest but I feel off balance so I try to put it back there, feel off balance like tilted bottles of triple sec sliding down my throat, feel off balance like waking up in a place I don't recognize.
Sometimes I smile when I'm sad but I'm scared my demons will feel betrayed so I try to hide it, scared to stare into the sun for too long, scared I'm not going to be able to feel anything anymore if I lose that.
Sometimes I decide I want to love myself again but I remember how I broke my heart before and I put walls up so I don't get hurt again, put walls up so I won't be surprised when I'm still lonely this time next year, put walls up so when I fail I can at least say I was never really trying.
Sometimes I think I'm getting better but I don't know where that leaves me so I think myself out of it, think myself into watercolor guilt, think myself into dying.

Dear heartache,
I cannot say that I know you well,
I have never been in love
But I have loved,
Have loved deeply and quickly and without question,
Have loved quietly and cowardly,
Have been loved back.

Dear heartache,
I just wanted to know why you're still
Hanging around here,
Why you keep dropping by
When I have guests over,
They never stay once you show up.

Dear heartache,
I've only known you on the surface,
Have never known the right questions to ask
But I have memorized the structure of your being,
Can describe the color of your eyes down to every fleck of red-brown,
Can still feel every callous on your palm when I think about you,
You have become so commonplace.

Dear heartache,
I think I know what you're doing,
Think I have thought my way through your facade,
I think you are in love with love;
Think you have been following her around for so long
That you couldn't bare to let her go now,
Think you always show up too late,
Show up just as she walks out the door.

Dear heartache,
I cannot say that I know you well,
Cannot say that you have made a home for yourself
Somewhere within me,
Can only stand within your reach
And hope that someday while you are chasing love
She will find me.

Today I found a suicide note
that I have no recollection of writing.
It was addressed to my mother
but it felt more like a death threat
to myself
from someone who knows me
too well.

I keep telling myself
I do not want to die
but even with winter approaching
the days seem to be getting longer
and sleep
is the only time I feel safe.

It has been 17 days and 16 hours
but the cuts on my wrist still ache
when I move my arm the wrong way.
I don't think they're healing right.

I know this house is haunted
because I can hear demons
whispering ****** into my hairline.

Today I found a suicide note
that I have no recollection of writing.
I am writing another.

Tried to
hold onto you,
to plant myself
in the fertile soil in the
creases of your elbows,
tried to breathe in
when you exhaled,
to fill my lungs with
your leftovers
but
there is not enough
oxygen here
to share
and I have told you
that I cannot
breathe,
told you
I think I need to
get out of here,
I'm feeling claustrophobic
but you only
hold me closer,
bruise my ribs
like rotted fruit,
kiss me with
no desire to
heal what you have broken,
and I am trying to
survive
but I cannot live
in the vacuum
you have created in
your chest cavity.

Anorexia
is the most deadly mental disorder
and maybe that is why
I tell myself I am fat,
maybe the reason I cry
when I look in the mirror
is because there is
110 pounds
too much of me
95 pounds
too much of me
80 pounds
too much of me,
I will not be content
until there is no weight left to lose,
until this skin is turned cold
and falls off my body,
I will be
counting the ribs you can see
on my corpse.
I will make myself smaller
and smaller
and smaller
until there is nothing left
to take away.

I whispered your name into clenched fists
and cursed myself for letting you in.
I ground your fingerprints off my skin with sandpaper
and dug your promises out of my veins.
I cracked my ribs and ****** you out of the marrow.
I exhaled all your breath from my lungs like cigarette smoke.
I set fire to the rose you gave me
and left the notes you wrote in the rain.
I destroyed myself to destroy you
but it wasn't enough.

I called you at 2am,
I spit venom into the phone,
Do you have any idea how guilty you make me feel?
I broke my own heart over you,
I told myself you deserved this,
I made you feel sorry
oh, did I make you feel sorry...

It's 6am now.
He deserved it.
He deserved it.
I ruined myself.
I ruined you.
I made you feel sorry.

*I keep telling myself it was worth it.

I hope you don't understand me,
hope I remain something mysterious to you,
hope you romanticize me into something complex rather than a body and a series of chemical reactions,
I hope I can fool you into believing that I mean more than what I say,
hope you write about me and analyze it to find some sort of answer,
hope you look for symbolism in the way I do my makeup,
hope you think me into a work of art and spill it from your veins,
I hope I burn on the way back out,
hope you have scars on your fingers from trying to dissect me,
hope I make you nervous,
hope you think about how to phrase things before you say them around me,
hope you ask every question strategically,
hope you think I know exactly what you're up to,
I hope you play word games with me to see how my mind works,
hope you still can't grasp it,
hope I'm always close enough to touch but not to get a firm grip on,
hope you dig yourself into a hole walking in circles to get a better view of me,
hope you never say my name for fear of manifesting the sound incorrectly,
hope you have no ******* clue what any of this means,
I hope you never understand me

How do I say
Jesus Christ you've changed
without seeming like I don't like who you've become
because I miss the old you
I miss the jokes the old you told
I miss the way you didn't hold my hand unless I held yours first
I miss the nights when you were honest
I miss you always knowing when something was wrong
but lately you only make jokes at other people's expense
you grab my waist too hard
it always seems like you're trying to cover something up
you never ask me if I'm upset
which I'm almost happy about because you're normally the reason
you never come see me anymore and I'm wondering why that is
because I'm not sure if you remember when you said you loved me but I do
and I'm not sure if you still do but I thought I did for a while
until you disappeared and I think you left the old you in rehab
you've started drinking again
do you remember when you said it made you sad when I drank because I do
that's the reason I stopped
but now that you've picked up the bottle so have I
and our fingers are almost meeting in the middle
I'm scared to let you know how close I am to you
because I think you might rip it out of my hands and let it shatter at my feet
then leave me to pick up the pieces.

I want you to tell me you love me but I know you won't I texted you drunk because I know it's the only time I can talk to you these days I miss you because we've both changed so much it's like we don't even know each other and you said we have more in common than you and my brother ever did and that's so ******* depressing because you two were best friends and I loved it when you two were friends because we could hang out and I could leave whenever I wanted and I miss that but you hardly talk anymore and it's been seven ******* years and now is when you decide to part ways but it's been too long and I miss you and I'm sorry I'm being so emotional I'm sorry I can only talk to you when I'm drunk but that's the only time I'm brave enough to be honest with you and I want to kiss you I'm sorry but I do I want you to hold me like you used to when we didn't know any better because your hands were so warm and I am so ******* cold and I miss you and I'm drunk and I miss you and when I'm sober I hate you but it's only because you don't love me like I want you to

I was trying to write something including the line
it kissed with no desire to heal what it had broken
and so I wrote
it kissed with no desire to heal what it had broken
but I didn't know what
it
was so I changed
it
to
he
and I wrote that
he kissed with no desire to heal what he had broken
but I thought about
him
and I thought about what
he
had done and I thought about kissing
him
and the things that were broken but not healed and so I changed
he
to
I
and I wrote that
I kissed with no desire to heal what I had broken
and I payed attention to the broken pieces that
I
had created and the people that
I
had kissed and I thought about what
I
desired and never have
I
tried to heal what
I
have broken.

Our best night was the night my phone broke.
We had to message each other on Facebook
so we looked through each other's old pictures
and bragged about our relationship status to our friends.
That was the night I called you from the home phone
and I laughed when you told me you once ate human flesh
and I laughed harder when you said
you're supposed to be scared.
That was the night I sent you a poem I found online
and you replied with the most honest profession of love
I have ever heard without using the word love.
That was the night we stayed awake until 5am
even though you had to get up at 6.
I could've sworn I loved you.
I could've sworn you loved me, too.

I CAN FEEL
MY TEETH
BEGIN TO DECAY
WHEN YOUR
ACID NAME
SLIPS THROUGH THEM

Every human walks around with a certain kind of sadness
stitched into the tag in the neck of their coat.
They carry it like a wallet weathered from use
and old gift cards in the pocket poke at the seams.
They keep it tucked away like a pressed flower
in between the pages of their favorite novel
and find it while they're thumbing through
for that line about love that they have forgotten.
They leave it in the bottom of their shoe
and let it poke at their soles when they walk,
and, becoming accustomed to it,
no longer feel it at all.

I can't let myself
fall for you; I'm too close to
the edge as it is.

You called me a god and I believed you and I thought you would always wait for me thought your love for me was infinite texted you drunk because you can't judge me I judge you that's how this works but I remember when you said you were an atheist and I realized that I am a human just like you and when given enough time you can overcome any obstacle and I was the biggest one in your way so you went around me and now I am alone and godless and you have found a new idol and I write about you when I'm drunk I guess that probably tells you something and I love you I just don't know what that means yet please do not forget about me

You said I was a god and I believed you
thought you would always pray to me
thought your devotion to me was eternal

called you crying because my word is divine
even between thunder storm sobs
called you a sinner because fear
is the root of fidelity

but I remember when you said you were an atheist
realized I was just as human as you
decided you didn't need my wrath
you walked through my fire
stole my halo
became your own savior
and now I am alone and godless

you were the only one to ever love me
but you have denounced your faith
and if God doesn't exist
then who the hell was I

Hi, I'm sorry for texting you so late it's just that everything feels like it's falling apart and I can't even recognize myself anymore sometimes it feels like I'm not even the one living my life I'm just watching it like a movie I'm just going through the motions and I don't know who to talk to anymore because I just keep making more problems but I need help I need someone to hold me and tell me it's okay I don't know how to make it through this on my own please just come save me