The coolest part about the open door to my house-
Our unlocked, hardly ever closed front door-
Is that someone random always walks in right in the middle of me throwing a fit
Right in the middle of any breakdown I'm having
Someone always walks in on time to think "what a *****"
This isn't a ******* poem
And who even ******* cares
(This is me talking to the internet because no one in real life wants to talk to me)

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

everything is incredibly fleeting
and i can't help but think i am wasting too much time criticizing my thoughts and choices
over-analyzing every decision I make,
I am wasting so much time worrying

I'd rather spend that time hiking or dancing or kissing this boy i know
(especially kissing this boy i know)
(or holding his hand)
(or saying hello)

how is it that you can be in love and think you have met the single greatest human,
and then you're not in love anymore and you suddenly meet so many new people
(they smell the single on you, i swear)
and a lot of the time they're boring
but then there are multiple kind souls and maybe you can make new friends and maybe not everyone ***** and maybe life is a continuous spectrum of meeting people your dumb young self promotes to the "greatest."
we are all young dumb ****** up vessels just
...trying...
hoping connections last and hoping the greatest one falls into place,
at least for a little while until you grow out of each other again
and start over

light me like a cigarette
snap me like a bone
I have never been anything but selfish,
so why aren't you
using me
using me
using me
for yourself.

I think I know why I write of you so often...
Because every time I see you,
My mind stumbles over words
Your lips make me stall
The look in your eyes makes me dizzy
And every moment I can't see you...
I want to
I want to
I want to

my mother is yelling to herself in her bedroom
as my father complains about a mess but creates a bigger one
creates a mess by breaking things
(sometimes breaking spirits)

I thought your smile looked wicked in my dreams,
as you tore my insides apart with the hands you used to hold me in
and now my veins all lead into the dark of the night
trying desperately to carry light into my own heart,
but all my heart can see is black
and that is why I am selfish
and my teeth are rotting
and I can drink my own salty tears and laugh.

Life is remarkably pointless
But I like rooms where you can stand on the bed and touch the ceiling
I like big mirrors and smoke,
When you're working your physical limits enough that you can feel the strain on your heart and lungs,
I like company
And I like being alone
Life is pointless and long and the world seems incredibly large and I am very far away but we are so astonishingly small.
And I guess it is okay
That there is no point to it at all

(I wonder if you ever check this site and get disappointed when I haven't written anything about you)
(I wonder if instead you are relieved)

i don't have any expectations for things to work out in my favor
i just hope that wherever i go,
life keeps me on my toes.
i hope it's at least exciting

Sometimes headaches keep me up
And my body has this buzz
it tingles every time I touch the sheets.
When I'm holding my head between my elbows and battling nightmares,
I still take comfort in the fact that you're there, safely, soundly asleep.

i know i start things in fragments
or in the middle of a sentence
beginning with "so" or "but" or "and"
i know sometimes i leave things hanging
because some nights i walk out the door still not having
any poems come out of my mouth
and i get in my car and just can't quite figure it out
anything i write anymore is a love poem (oops)
but when i look in your eyes all i can think to say is "i love you," i guess
nothing too poetic
yet the way you say it
is what structures my poems

(it's not that i don't want to speak in stanzas,
but take it as a compliment that sometimes your eyes make me dizzy enough not to think straight)

i was going to write a poem
but i had my headphones in for an hour without even listening to anything
and my teeth feel weird,
as well as a tendon in my ankle that i'm afraid won't get better
and i really should get sleep tonight
so maybe another time

don't you ever get dizzy
letting the earth spin you in circles
I bet you're tired of the highs and lows of the tide
If only you could pull the moon a little closer,
whisper in its ear, ask it to take it a little easy on you
I'm on the beach, I come and go as I please.
Lately I've been sticking my feet in the water
and I'll try to whisper to the moon for you
but it doesn't listen to me, either.

sometimes impressed with life
because i get to sit at the end of your couch and tuck my toes under your leg
(it truly is the little things)

bones creak
like doors opening
when they break
and I only know this because once I carried my twin brother home after his foot crushed in half
he fell off the monkey bars and cried.
I've never broken a bone, but I've felt broken

UGH JUST THINKING THAT I AM TOO MUCH,
I CAN BE TOO MUCH
I CAN FEEL TOO MUCH
I want to be with you
all the time
and sometimes I feel like I should feel sorry for feeling that way?
feel sorry for feeling
but mainly tonight i am just apologizing to myself
for not going to bed earlier

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 want you to tear my belly button open with your teeth
(only after you tease me with your eyes)
claw up into my chest
pick apart my rib cage
clench your fist around my heart and it will shatter like glass
because that is what hearts of unsure girls do
(girls unsure about themselves in every sense of the phrase)
I don't think I've made an impression on you
I think I've just given you a pair of **** to pass the time with

I press the wrong keys and lay my head on your chest, missing you ahead of time because I know you'll have to leave. Your kiss tastes like winter, but my living room smells like fire,
and I don't know what that combination makes, nor do I know where I fit in.

2. I told myself I'd go to sleep
    but all I am doing is staring at this ******* screen.

3. Are we intertwined yet because all I can imagine is the branch I have for arms, the leaves for fingers, I've got a big *** trunk heart and you came along and drilled yourself a hole right in the middle of me so you could live in there.
You know, the hole stays with me, but you won't have to.

It's alright if you are playing games with me
at the very least I'll appreciate that I was the piece you chose to move around

I eat my feelings
but I also bleed them out.
Guess which one is more talked about?

(hint: they hate me more if I'm fat)

my eyes hurt because i'm tired
and i know this is a bad idea,
staring at a screen before much needed sleep,
leaving the required reading for the morning
but can the morning blame me?
I think of mountains and him at the same time
part of me says because it's all been progression, it's a feat to fall in love, and it makes me want to climb to the ******* top
and then the other part of me says i think of mountains and him because I'd climb onto his **** with the same motivating force it would take to climb a mountain.
Regardless
picturing mountains
makes me think of this boy with the ******* sky in his eyes.
(but honestly what's up with me and ****** love poems?)
looking out my window gives me different reactions as well -
climbing down the stairs for fresh air
or jumping out
but in the end
just feeling like climbing into bed

I've never been a quitter,
so what do I do when you tell me to quit cutting out my problems
so I can watch the blood run down the drain?

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.'

lately i've been too tired to take care of things-
i haven't been watering my cacti
and this is the perfect metaphor-
we need to water us
so we can grow again.
i know we've been down lately,
but the sun's coming out
and i know you want time for other things,
but let's chill and calm down.
there's so much time to balance out,
we'll get it right,
and i'll still have plenty of time to kiss you this summer,
maybe even on some sand.
and even a week from now will be better than today, right?
we're making it through the winter
this begins another fun part
between this moment and the questionable end,
i want to see us smile again

I would rip my spine in half,
walk on a broken foot until it falls off,
I would ignore every bandage until I bled out
if it meant I could keep doing what I love.

I'll never understand how people are alright with missing out on chances they get to move and glide and float and be completely alive under a spotlight, the whole world looking at you because you're telling a story with body rolls and pointed feet.

The ice keeps hitting my teeth tonight,
chopping my gums so I can never talk
because if I open my mouth the blood will run out
and you will ask if I did this to myself.

I RUIN EVERYTHING
like i ruin a moment
like i ruin a dance
like i ruin myself
I hate myself
so I ruin myself
I hate myself
so I get rid of myself
I hate myself
so I forget myself
(i thought I had me within reach)
(but maybe that was just the ******* devil's hand)

but all i ever wanted was a boy to secretly sniff my ******* and like it
and an over-sized shirt that doesn't smell like me to wear to bed
and a feeling much like what i'm feeling right now

I'm awfully awfully tired
but I have no where to sleep
maybe the ******* grim reaper
will make my bed for me

freezing girl wonders
"what is interesting
and is it better than happy"
and i say
"always
but dear,
be boring if you can"

ThrowbackThursday
to music I used to listen to,
songs I used to sing,
the sound of my own pulse as I split open veins

sometimes i am 17, 18, 19, 20 again
begging a boy to love me back
i'm so cynical now in every moment that i happen to forget my age
21
almost 22
i don't beg anymore. i don't wait on anyone.
i love very hard and get loved hard back, it's something out of a daydream
i guess i just thought i'd never have to be 17, 18, 19, 20 again in my head
i thought maybe i wouldn't be empty or sad any night i am 21 and getting loved in return

Maybe I am a little depressed.

I got new shoes today. I was so excited to wear them
so I put them on right away and walked through town all day
my black footsteps leaving my mark in the mud,
and even though I loved them,
they still rubbed my skin raw
and I bled through my socks,
but I know we all get blisters.
I know we're all depressed,
but I think some of us are dark,
and then there are those of us who are darker.
Who are self-destructive and aware of the night that grips us
and we say we want to get better,
but what would we do if we ever stopped being sad?
Who would we be,
in a world without demons pouring out of our eyes?

See, I kind of like seeing the blood running down my heels.

i've always wanted long matches.
i used to be afraid of fire, afraid of the oven, afraid of heat
and then my 8th grade science teacher forced everyone to individually go in front of the class, strike a match, and light a burner
and though my hands were shaking
i got over it
so now i see the extra long matches in the store and i want them
to strike over and over
maybe light candles
and my hands won't shake, i don't think

fingernails primarily used to pick at ourselves
peel my lip off
bare my teeth
dig out each eye ball and desperately try stuffing each into an ear so i can maybe find out what my thoughts are in there.
open your legs and claw nothing
it's an entire gender of genocide, your genitals need no more claws

We better do something crazy before I get bored.

hey how about you treat me
the way you treat yourself
on your darkest nights
after letting your mind slip away from you...
but I guess it's best to control the mess
from splattering me all over the walls.
(spare me the insults, just grab me by the neck)
(I guess I like you best when you're honest)

I write a bunch of sad things in my notebook, and if I die tonight,
that's all you'll have to remember me with-
my depression.

I want to leave you with more than that.

i just want a black bikini and the sun
right now i don't want anything
or anyone
else

sometimes at the ends of small things,
it feels like everything is ending
there are no more leaves to fall
and what is coming still
will become a list of things that have ended

The faces blur every time I try and come up with, "hello"
and you've never been a friend of mine, but I could never let go
because if you would ever want to maybe look in my eyes
I could show you one ******* ride, a solid good time.
(scream)
Come get it, come get it
I dare you
to try and get it, come on and get it
Lick up my thighs slip through my tide
can't say goodbye
We could stop time.

I'd like for you to be content
to be happy
but you are not the boy I dream about
and I'm afraid that's what
you want me to be.

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.

i found the perfect song
i cleaned my room,
about to go clean myself up
my neck hurts
i imagine the sky looks great tonight,
sometimes i wish i still had to sneak out to see you this late
(but if you still love me in a few months, i could sneak into your dorm)

I have ripped myself apart in front of almost everyone I know
I have wiped my blood on dance floors
and spread it across the stage
and still they believe me when I say
it wasn't me who cut myself
(even with my habit of self-destruction)

it's so easy to look sad on stage
and so easy to act happy

God, my ankles hurt,
my head,
my legs,
but you know what doesn't?
My heart.

Thanks for that.

I ******* ****
at making conversation
and being anything but boring
(you know it, I know it, stop pretending
stop pretending I'm interesting)

I am wrapped entirely with passion,
the best kind, the healthy kind, the kind adults wave off as naive because they miss the feeling.

"I will never like any girl more than you," he said,
dancing with me in the kitchen.
"We'll see," I told him, and smiled as I twirled under his arm.