my problems are so minuscule and i'm so fortunate
but hey, i'm still complaining
everyone's sad and angry and ******* up for no reason
and finally,
no one gives a **** if you smoke cigarettes,
just don't pretend you're impressing anyone by doing it.
i've been saving cool cig holders on my online wishlists since i was 14
it's never been a new idea.
i'm sorry but i've been sad lately,
-one day maybe i'll get a therapist-
but for tonight i just whispered to myself,
"you have to stop."
because i've always wanted to want nothing
and i need to thicken my skin and stop caring.
it doesn't matter what happens
no one will remember you for as long as you want them to, anyway

who wants to come over and suffocate me in my sleep tonight
i am tired of being a person
sometimes all i want is to drown and sometimes it is my biggest fear

don't worry about me, it's not your job to
don't worry about the way I sleep
or the way I keep
my sanity.
I know a few people who care more about me than I care about myself

I haven't felt like writing much, lately
I haven't felt like a lot of things I used to
I haven't felt

random things start beeping in my home so every time i almost drift to sleep, i am reawakened by bomb countdowns and the thought that maybe I don't believe you and maybe that's okay
also my dog is laying next to me and staring up the stairs because he is too tired to walk up them
and tomorrow morning i will also be too tired to climb stairs but i will pretend i am strong
because i am expected to be

am i boring or boringly cliche in the things i find exciting

most of my feelings are pointless insecurities that i'd be better off shaking out
BUT REMINDER:
AT LEAST I AM FEELING

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

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

can't wait to sleep in your ***** pajama bottoms again
and wear the sweatshirt you left at my house even though the zipper is broken
i am constantly trying to surround myself with things that remind me of you
and i'm not sure what this means
but i don't want to think about the future anymore

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)

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

i peeled off my bottom lip
and burned off all my flesh
and stayed underwater until my lungs caved in
because it seemed fascinating

remember to occasionally remember me

My first love was so pure
We are all so toxic and broken now
Nothing will ever be so innocent and selfless again
15 and best friends, figuring out how to kiss

it's so nice to move and glide and jump
and forget about everything but my own ******* body

I want your lips to tremble as I look you in the eye
and hook my fingers in your belt loops.
Lick my lips,
I am a big meal to take in,
and being a bad influence takes a lot of work, you know.

i daydream of last summer
or this weekend
sitting in your arms
or resting my head on your legs when i can't make myself sit straight
(you stopped the truck to park before you took me home)
tell me straight up

i know you're not talking about me
i know you're not talking about me

wish I'd paint my entire face pink so you'd never see me blush
(or always see me blush)
wish I could tell you what I really want

I was going to end it at one poem,
that one sentence (i swear)
but something about your hands tonight were magical
i've never wanted someones contact so constantly
just skin on skin, eyes on ******* eyes
just let me see you
and feel you
be around you
know you exist
you ******* know i exist.
-
human connection is more important than tornadoes
than earthquakes
than tsunamis and mudslides
human connection makes dying worth a wait

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

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

I've been liking myself lately
and it's a different feeling,
but I think it's a good one.

just decided a problem of mine is wanting to create in every form
I want to draw and paint
and take pictures and videos
and create dances and do ******* pottery and embroider into shirts and build a garden and screen-print designs and and and
I don't have time for it all
and I'm afraid life forces people to choose one
or to narrow it down
and I will strive to create excellent things
without cutting any of it out

I SHOULD HAVE INVITED YOU IN

it doesn't matter
i just want to matter to you

Pinching at my extra skin
(Scratch it for me, I'll moan)
What are your intentions now?
How do I figure them out?
Do I want to know

usually unsure how you feel about me
that's okay

It's so bright out
and I walk down the street dressed in black on black on black

Your words spit truth
but even truth isn't always truth after a couple hours of thinking about it.
I often daydream of all these things I'd like to do
things that would make you like me
keep me
things that would make me like me
but they end as just dreams,
and I am
so
tired
of
that.

Tonight will be me on a skateboard,
spray-painting my village something yellow.
I hope I'll like it as much as the truth thinks I will.

I don't want to cut myself tonight,
I don't want to see blood
I don't want to find a razor and swipe
I don't want to cut myself tonight

I want to take a lighter and burn myself
I want to feel something new and
see something bright
I want to press and click and scream
I want to burn myself tonight
I want you to see it

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.

I could hear my parents talking about me.
I don't like that.
I don't like the way you looked so
disappointed
when I cried, either
or that I cry
or that my stomach bunched into ruffles
when you took my shirt off.

"I don't know why I get so sad sometimes," I whispered.

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

I know forever doesn't exist and I'm not mad about it,
without change life would get so boring
and maybe I'd be content, but it doesn't matter
Doesn't matter if I believe you
Doesn't matter if you're telling the truth

Thorns down my throat
so
I spit them at you.

I wish I was drinking.
Sometimes I wish I was drunk all the time
But I hardly drink at all and besides,
I'd never have the company and drinking alone is just sad at my age.
When I'm drunk I usually drunk text you and right now I'm exhausted from loving you so much and not having as many reasons to love myself.
I think I want to cry but I'm not sure why. And when I think I'm making friends the next day they take my seat and push me out of the row and I sat by myself today in a room with more than 100 people in it and no one even eats with me and thank god i like eating alone. I think I'm pitied and I don't know why
I think I must be the problem,
Because I feel like there's something wrong with me
But I don't know what it is.

I give too much of myself away and
I don't think I'll ever learn how to stop.

Anyway, I'm going to walk in the dark by myself to go buy something I can ******* smoke
If you have a drink, I need one

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 am assured that I am not the best influence,
but I have great plans
that will become great failures,
and you will stop being proud of me
long before time calls me old.
With cuffs around my wrists that chain me to my own shadow
I walk down the only road that helps me stop staggering
drunk and blind
holding the hand of the devil
because I sold my soul to rock and roll
and the chances of what could have been.
What might be.
My worst fear is being bored,
and that's it.

You are magic and I am the stuffed bunny ******* pull out of hats, making the audience assume it's alive
I am the girl guys pretend to cut in half, I am the props and the dummies
I am the illusion
But you are magic

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)

perched above water
thinking maybe the stillness in sound will ease my buzzing mind
if only my ears were filled with the deep blue
classic, cliche,
blue like your eyes or your blankets or home bedroom floor.
blue as in summer sky, hopping into the reservoir
i want to be there again
naked, with you on my 18th birthday at the top of that rock
gearing to jump.
i am so full when i am with you

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)

Lately I've been thinking I'm invincible
and wondering if I'll spoil our romance by trying to make it last forever,
as most women do, they say,
but we both know I've never listened to 'them'.
I have this teacher that's been crying and yanking out dandelions in her yard
because what else is she supposed to do
but she tells me I'm a little more likely to develop a psychological disorder.
I think we're all psychos, really,
all depressed and anxious, at least,
and sometimes my ceiling never stops spinning,
but I think I'll be alright.

How much love can I really hold, though
in the palm of my hands,
as if it is ever so strong to be visible, as if I could watch the blood of it fall down my forearms and pool in the crease at my elbows
I am trying to hold so much in place
you make me want to,
you make me feel like it doesn't drown me, like it can't.
I just can't tell which blood is thicker
yours, covering my skin, filling my pores
or maybe the blood lining my throat, preventing me from kissing you the way you like
the blood of my scabby feet moving along dance floors.

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

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

For a while I thought I could get better.
I thought
the wind would pick me up and let me glide.
I guess I was wrong.
I usually am.
The day got dark, and my mind slipped away from a closed fist,
bits flying while time slowed and the beat of my heart thumped around in my chest.
It usually happens like this.

I'm pathetic and restless
and I like to climb things
I like to scare myself and see if I scare you
I've got fire in my bones and ice in my heart and if there is a hell, i'll be there
I like to ride my bike on warm nights and ride my skateboard on warm days and I don't mind the way I like to imagine myself riding you.
I might be interesting or boring
But mostly I don't know what I am.
Mainly I have no clue.

Everyday, I don't always brush my teeth
I never let me fall asleep
I bite the skin around my fingernails until I ******* bleed.
I only shower when I smell
if I'm worried I never tell
am I even taking care of myself?

I don't even have rhythm so where the **** am I going with my life.