just ******* kick me in the shins,
wrench your fist into my rib cage,
don't quit pulling apart my lungs so I can't breathe.
life is a ******* game,
i'm being played

hello, it's later than i wanted it to be and i haven't tried to close my eyes yet
and i've been holding in **** for the past couple minutes,
i just think i think a little bit too much
about what you might be thinking about
i'm not sure i make sense
i'm not sure i like myself.
my wisdom teeth are really poking through my gums
i keep touching them with my tongue and it's later than i wanted-
i'd like to lay in grass under the sun holding your hand,
sorry for the cliche
sorry i'm a stereotype
i'm not sorry about any of this
i can't wait to hold your hand again
i can't wait for the sun
when i think about it,
when i really look around and appreciate..
how is anything ever boring

I NEVER WANTED TO BE A GIRL WHO COULD ONLY WRITE LOVE POEMS
i only write of loving you or hating me, it seems

even my insecurities take up a mere fraction of my mind
when i'm still so focused on your smile and bedroom and small wave, telling me to move closer

i don't have much room to dwell on my bad thoughts for too long

regardless, it's too late, i'm not taking care of myself,
and i'm really glad you still like me enough
to hug me tightly when i need it

but i have always been and will always be a girl who doesn't like to need very much

she's asking everyone in my house for their horoscope,
my brother's reading into it,
"it's so accurate," he said
and for some reason I feel so detached
from everything
from my own cells, even-
dragging my fingers across surfaces pretending like it was meant to be
but by the end of the year,
my fingerprints will be wiped clean
and
every time i leave a place,
i feel like they didn't want me there, anyway
including your door frame
you never wanted me there, anyway

insecure
unsure whether you like me fitting into your side when we walk next to each other
or if you're just comfortable, so why bother changing it

either way, i'm enjoying my time a lot, leaning into your shoulder

i'd rather look at him
than look really anywhere

and when i look anywhere else
it's cool to be holding his hand

sometimes the light hits my world so perfectly, and i always have picture perfect moments of sun beams on his smile
he'll remember me squinting (trying to see past the glare)

**** this ******* site
and ****
me
(**** me)
((**** me))
I'm still so ******* stuck on you (i really don't mind)
Idk what you've been meaning lately, but I've been believing you
I believe you more than i believe the telephone cord that i swallowed when I was thirteen,
merely minutes of conversations because all I ever called to say was
"meet me under the bridge"
and my best friend and I would go light candles and listen to people walk above us and then we'd ride our bikes to the other end of town, just enough time to ride back before it turned pitch black,
we stopped riding bikes when we got our licenses, we stopped going under the bridge when she met a boy and instead lit candles with him

when i was 13 i swallowed the cord and it's wrapped around my throat
when i was 16 i swallowed a rope because i'm pretty sure my friend hanged himself but I never was allowed to ******* KNOW
when i was 17 i swallowed sewage
that day i scratched my arm open and walked home in the middle of a panic attack,
i should have invited you,
you told me you would have gone with me
i appreciate you more than anything else, i think

ayy boi,
love's gonna hurt, they say
but this is worth every ******* ******* ache
whether we've got another year or just a little while,
today you are my favorite and most important reason to smile

**** it
Wish my walls would stop creaking and i would stop dreaming of sleeping somewhere else (I am in too deep for a boy who doesn't like me as much)
And tonight I daydreamed of peeling off each layer of my flesh and pinning it to my cork board so I'd finally hang up something original (lol it's probably already been done)
I am going to go to sleep in hopes that time will either stand still for a bit-so I can forget my stupid dramatic selfish thoughts, or fast forward-so all of this can be done with.

if i had to list my three favorite movies,
today i might say: Across the Universe, Donnie Darko, and The ****** Suicides
(basic *****)
mainly for the aesthetics
the way the camera or lighting makes the scene
and i have colors stuck in my head from my own life images,
mostly pale blues
all in your room
(the comforter, the hue of the tv screen, your eyes)
it's all about angles, and i get the perfect view while perched on your chest
wish all the colors and lighting from the scenes in my head reflected more in my actions, you'd never get bored of me then.

losing sleep and brain cells,
i don't know what it is...
but i am so happy to have the privilege of getting to revolve my daydreams around you

i keep meaning to take more pictures.
and to quit turning my head away whenever my mood shifts (sorry)
i'm going to be better with words, i promise
but some moments, especially on boring days, i get to spend hours just playing with your hair and looking in your eyes and i know i don't need to say anything,
you already know what i'd say.
this is a good place to be, i think. holding your hand.

third degree harvesting and dreaming of things that will never happen
stuck in skin-tight suffocating thighs
closing with sighs, opening up for this guy
..life is redundant,
but it doesn't have to be

most days i try cracking every bone and my neck only ever whispers and each finger wraps around it, wondering what goes through someone's mind when they push their fingers down their throat
(i could guess)
bored and uninspired
goodbyes are hard to get right,
at least pretend you like to kiss me goodnight
and **** it, maybe i should eat more so my body image starts to match my perception
or something like that
i don't care
I need the sun or the beams that come from your eyes when you're really in love, or at least pretend to be

sorry i'm still sometimes insecure,
i'm not asking for any reassurance

every time my eyes close, i am in a dream
sometimes i feel needles
sometimes your eyelashes brushing against my cheek

sorry i'm not pretty enough to be delicate
(sometimes my hands shake but i still don't look fragile)
i'd rather look like nails and a hammer anyway

do you ever panic about how average you are
how predictable it all is
how plain
he's probably bored already,
bored that you're even insecure about this,
cliche & boo-*******-hoo, he could be bouncing around with bigger ***** but instead he lets your pathetic lumps slightly jiggle as you ride him and occasionally make eye contact
and you call it love,
(you know it is)
but how could he love someone so boring.
maybe if you took matches to your tongue, there'd be more spice in bed if he kissed ashes
but it's been done
maybe if you shoved a gun down your throat,
he could watch you gag on it, let him imagine it as his own ****,
you'll pull the trigger just in time to give him blue *****,
you swear you've seen this already in a movie or something
maybe if you show up with hands shaking,
you say you want to run constantly, you want your whole life to be running away, but you have nothing to run from and no where to go and all you've been dreaming of is running next to him -
it's romantic, they say
it's suicide
it's a ******* trigger warning
and it's all so painfully average and unoriginal
i could cringe

thought i might die tonight
am surprised to see myself still normally alive -
through the loopy tracks of a roller coaster panic attack
i thought mostly of you
so i could calm myself down
(also thought of all the food i was stuffing in my mouth
to keep me busy, keep me distracted
probably gained that six pounds back already)
anyway,
you're a good guy to dream about

dreaming of finding an empty pool one day
and i'll watch boys skate in it, my feet dangling over the edge
and i'll squeal like a ***** when they all convince me to try dropping in myself
and at night maybe we'll all have sleeping bags on the bottom
12 ft deeper underground
looking at stars
(if no one else was around, you'd **** my brains out)

i know i always talk about my shaky vision
but tonight i am still seeing things out of the corner of my eye
(i wish you were in my peripheral instead)
(wish i could rest into your shoulder and sleep for days)

make life about spontaneous, soul-screaming youth
before time gives you wrinkles and youth forgets about you

stop thinking about life's pointlessness
remember when you taught me how to skate off a curb
and it took me ages, i was such a ***** about it
but i finally did it
and we leaned against the bricks
and it started to sprinkle, i think
but you still kissed me before we walked out of the rain

i hope i skate with you again, i hope i'm not so afraid this time,
i hope you'll still kiss me in the middle of the day

sometimes when you're delirious, shirt off, still looking at the ceiling instead of at a screen,
you suggest things we could do
and sometimes i mistake the suggestions for things you think we should do,
so now i try not to take coulds too seriously
because ideas are not plans.

whatever happens,
-i will remember the time we hiked off the path and laid beneath the trees just before a storm
you took my glasses off and the leaves blended together
(we weren't sure we'd find our way back)
-i will remember the time you casually tried to find a sturdy log to kiss me on
pretending the plan wasn't to get me rustled in the dirt anyway.
on the walk to the car, you tripped me into your arms
i giggled, you smiled
and you looked so great with the sun shining through your hair
-i will remember holding back "i love you"s in your bed sheets

sometimes things get blurry and i stand up dizzy,
wondering in what world this might feel like reality
and when i turn around or focus back in on what i like to look at most
it's still his hands
so i'm not just dreaming, right?
every mixed signal or forehead to desk kind of day
makes me wonder how much life counts when you're wishing it away

drowning as a cliche
hoping a wave might catch my gaze
and pull me all the way under
(I am all the way under your covers)
wearing black as a default
maybe looking like a bruise will get rid of my black eyes
they've got dark circles from dreaming with them open
(I am awake for some of my best dreams and worst nightmares)
cracking my bones as a hobby
i like it when you're around to crack me, too
crack me open, apart
until my ribs loosen and fall across your carpet
where we'll float in thick salt water
and wait for another wave of covers
because your bed sheets might always be a little tangled
and mixed in my long blonde hair

your sheets add a nice scent to it

-go to sleep
-learn to like hanging out with yourself
-try your best to never let anyone you love ever doubt that you love them
-do not expect anything from anyone, do not rely on people. It is healthy and natural to let your guard down and occasionally take a hand, but when no one really offers you their palm, do not be shocked or hurt. You do not need to hold a hand.
-get over the fact that you really just want to hold his hand

Ugh god I write such lame things down and I'm not sure why I keep doing it
I think I just like that you read it or I like the fact that I get to
And most times writing it down makes it settle in my brain so it doesn't whir around at lightning speed this late at night, preventing me from shutting my eyes
But I keep writing of you and you're still on my mind, that's not fair
I like to think about you making sure the blanket is on me or about the angle I see you from and how the light hits you there, sometimes it'll catch a few Rays in between each eyelash. Sometimes I accidentally think too quickly about the future and I get a bit scared wondering who I'll talk to if I can no longer constantly bug you (****)
But I look myself in the mirror and tell myself to chill, I've got time, and when time runs out, I'll figure it out
I'll handle it

It's 3am and I'm thinking about how I'll miss you a year from now
I wonder

maybe i'll collect all my flaws in pictures
(so i can remember every version of me)
and my favorite part will be remembering what the person holding the camera looked like as they snapped each photo
(this is of course a dream)
sometimes it feels like i want to capture each sweaty embrace
each smile you make
each time that we're rolling around on your carpet
but i know that some things are better left simply in the head
(let's take a lot of snapshots anyway)

i don't have any friends that will be around after high school
so i guess somewhere i'll have to start over
but i'll take all my photos and pin them up on every new wall
or at least keep them safe

ordinary things feel super extraordinary when you're looking into his eyes and he's smiling at you and reaching for your hands

today was good until i ruined it
so let's pack a bowl and take another hit
because i've got so much to do
but all i want to do is you
-
i want the walls to start moving and the furniture
to rearrange
maybe i'll move with them
get up get going get out of this place
(it's all a ******* joke, anyway)

but i don't even mind all the time
because I have always been laughing along

i'm hoping i look okay from behind
hoping your hands like intertwining with mine
i hope you genuinely prefer having me around
hope you remember me fondly a few years from now

we feed off each other
don't pretend you're original,
everyone is a part of the people of their past
(i can see it, it's easy)

I still don't know what's most important to me
still don't know where I want to go or end up
I still don't know how I'll have fun
and I occasionally worry about it
but I'm hoping maybe one day I'll know exactly what I want
(the whole thought process is so cliche)

for now I'll just get dressed and take pictures and kiss

You are so ******* predictable
And I have cracked my skull open too many times slamming my head off of desks trying to figure it out
But I knew it all along
EVERYTHING IS PREDICTABLE
AND TONIGHT I RHINK IM SICK IN THE HEAD
DONT ******* my godddddd
Get me out of here

it's okay i've been daydreaming of sparklers for years
i'd stick one in between every molar and then i'd bite to burn
but ******* wouldn't it be pretty?
i wanted to light the veins on our wrists by the sparks
and we'd run around the yard pretending we held more light than the moon
(i'm tired of comparing everything to the ******* night sky, too)
and the grass would look gray
and our teeth would be white
and our smiles would be genuine
your smile would be genuine
and i'd look you in the eyes and i'd believe you
BUT EVERY TIME I TRY
I CAN NEVER FIND ANY SPARKLERS
SO I'M STUCK WITH ALL THESE FIRECRACKERS
BUT THEY DON'T ******* SHINE THE WAY I IMAGINE
AND I NEVER LIGHT THEM ANYWAY

hard to think about my future
when i can't tell if i care about it

i have a weakness for the feeling this love makes
for good pens and cool hikes and blank pages and new music
i have a weakness for the dim blue light in your bedroom from the tv we pretend to watch
and i have a weakness for the way you sometimes softly speak your thoughts
i have a weakness for tree trunks i can't wrap my arms all the way around and for car rides with the windows down
my knees go ******* weak every time you touch me and i bite my ******* lip every time we make eye contact and all my peripheral vision sees is the ceiling, i have a weakness for blue eyes and blonde hair
for striped bed sheets now, for bass guitars and the little habits you keep
i  have  a  weakness  for  the  feeling  this  love  makes,
i get so weak i'd crumble up my rib cage just to prove you have access to my heart
but the miraculous thing is
this feeling of weakness that comes with love
is incomparable to the way that you make me strong

this weekend already feels so long because i won't see you friday or saturday
(i don't know why time changes when you're not around)
but I just wanted to let you know that i wrote some things for you in my journal that i think you should read sunday, if i see you then.
they're good things, of course, a little random and sloppy,
a little self-critiquing (sometimes i think i am too serious)
and it's 4:28am and I might be a little delirious
but i am really excited to be 18 and in love with you.
I'm going to let myself believe you, even when I am insecure
and I'm going to be less afraid to tell you how handsome you look all the time.
So if I see you Sunday...i'll probably be a little hesitant to open up the journal you gave me, but don't let me be embarrassed. I'm not sure how much you really care about reading what's in there (i don't blame you if you don't), but I trust you
4:34am
this weekend already feels sooo long because i won't see you

sometimes i worry
but when you put your arm around my shoulders
it's easier to shrug off any nerves
so i forget about my worries

i think i'm going to go buy a lighter and something to smoke
and i'm going to put eyeliner on
grab my headphones and take a walk in the woods

i think i could make it a habit,
black clove cigars
and puffing in and out poison to pass the time
(at least make me a little bonier)
and one day i'll strap a flask to my thigh
and practice taking sips without scrunching up my nose at the taste.
For some reason, self-destructive tendencies are appealing
which makes me a ******* *******
and an idiot
but as long as i'm entertained

i hope you sleep well and don't have dreams of cement blocks tied to your ankles while you're diving off the dock.
i hope your leather bound heart keeps all the ink in and that you trust yourself with a ******* pen, i hope you mean every kiss,
i hope everyone starts telling the truth,
starts making it clear,
"never let someone you love doubt that you love them."

i'm infatuated and stupid for it

i wonder what types of poems you'd write
i wonder how long you think about mine
wonder if it matters (it doesn't, nothing does)
except the wind
and the ride
and your smile

stop worrying so much about the future
because the future never comes, remember?

i like the needles in my chest
i like it when you wiggle them around
my flesh is so twitchy
itching lately to get you off my mind
but i can't manage. (i like you there)
taking in long slow breaths so my lungs don't bash my heart and ribs
trying hard not to write another love poem

but god, when you say my name...
-
i like it when my arms swim and float around the glares of light
i like it when my arms find their way to a place wrapped with you
-
this is a love poem

I am so tired of being the open book.
You used to tell me that I could tell you anything
and now I've told you anything + more
through typed words and glances back as I leave,
and sometimes it seems like I have no mystery left.
I am so tired of writing every ******* thing down.

Sometimes I still get nervous when you put your hand on my knee,
and I think that's important.
I hope sometimes you still get butterflies

remember to occasionally remember me

sorry for always mentioning you in stupid poems i write
sorry that you read them.
I promised myself you'd never see me cry, but we were drunk and you kept saying things that made me miss you while you were still here
and sometimes all I do is miss things that I haven't lost yet.
I tried to hide my eyes, but I don't think I can lie to you
so whenever the world catches up to me and you're around,
I am sorry that I might get overwhelmed. I am sorry that I've cried.
I can't sleep either and no lights are flickering but I keep telling myself that they are
and I'm not sure why I say "and" so much to connect every thought like a run-on, but sometimes when you smile it carries me through the day and i'd run to see that. But I over-analyze and over-think and will over-run my mind 'til I die and sometimes dying sounds better.
I know you know what I mean, and I'M SORRY
we all fake things so well,
it's human nature to fake every day
and god,
I am sorry I'm so scared that you are faking every time you whisper in my ear
AND I WILL NEVER UNDERSTAND WHY NONE OF US SIMPLY
DO WHAT WE WANT
(we'd be so much happier, I bet)
BUT I DON'T EVEN KNOW WHAT I WANT MOST OF THE TIME
and sometimes when you say sweet words
I know you'll forget you said them
and I'll think of them when you're gone
so sometimes I wish you'd never give me compliments
and
I am sorry
for it all.

I wanted you because I desperately needed to have fun and it felt like you'd give me a good time.
It was an accident, actually falling in love with you
but I knew I would.
I made eye contact before I got in the backseat of my car to skip lunch,
and that's when I ******* knew I wanted to fall in love with you,
and I panicked of course because I wasn't supposed to
and this is a story about over-thinking
and this is how I will remember making eye contact
and the way the sun was on your face and the lighting of the sky-
even when it becomes insignificant,
I will think about it when I no longer want to,
I will think about it even though you never knew me then,
and I was just a girl
with eyes
who happened to look.

This sounds creepy, but it wasn't. It wasn't me already knowing I wanted you..it was me thinking it'd be nice to want you. That you looked like someone I wouldn't mind holding hands with, it was '****, that boys lips could do a number of things to my body', it was a 'maybe one day I'll like him a lot, and that might be a cool thing.'