i'm 22 and it's been about a week since my last cig
(now i have a juul, the most responsible way to manage my buzz i guess)
i am too busy to write, read, call my mom sometimes, i can't go home to visit because i've run out of time
i'm not sure when i'll make it to the grocery store, or
when i'll sleep because i'm busy trying to fit in time to rest.
i hope it's worth it
but i think i convince myself that most things are

My sadness is not the type I'd like to get noticed for - I don't need help or comfort, it is not out of my control. I just need to bury myself under blankets sometimes because the weight of the world seems to push my shoulders down over my heart and it pushes tears out of my eyes, but I can never explain how or why, and I can never tell when.
And every time i'm held me and asked, "Why? Why are you sad?" I never have an answer because
I
don't
know
why.

Sitting on hotel floors
wondering if i'm trying too hard
wondering if i'll ever get home
wondering if you'll still want to wrap me up
when I do

my flowers never bloom
maybe they never will
but you're the one who told me to chill
when your hands were freezing and up my skirt.
you whispered in my ear and I froze
just like you planned
just as you hoped for
and then you had your way with my blue lips
and now my tights are ripped the way i like them
(but ripped in all the wrong places)

Charred man with no eye-lids
Leaning over the end of my bed
(he stares at me when I try to sleep)
(so now I try not to)
because I don't want his fingers up my leg
or his other hand around my neck
and I don't want to become ash
Before I even get to live

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

light forms from fixtures in the empty parts kept deepest within us.
(i think we're afraid to share,
scared of growing dull if we give too much of ourselves away)
i have just a bulb in me,
the type of light that shines in a basement (kept tidy, though).
i don't prefer lamp shades or light covers
i thought it'd be beneficial to show my light off,
to project
to present how bright it is in there.
a whole life of keeping my bulb uncovered in a world kept hidden deep in their own chests
has left me little
by little
less bright.

who's to blame, really.
and who's smarter for it

counting down every inhale until you make me gasp again
waiting with every sigh
deep relief will come with patience
self-reliant but acknowledging that relief feels easiest in between your limbs
puzzle pieces tied together as puppets
dancing under bed sheets
or on rocks, or picnic tables, or carpet

i'm sorry
i don't really know why
but i am just so insecure that sometimes i am sorry that you talk to me
sorry you listen to me
sorry you say you like me
sorry for the day you won't like me anymore

I just want it to be loud
The gasping, my deepest inhale when we start
Song on in the background
(I can't make out what it is anymore because I don't care, my hand is on the front of your hip, slowly gliding to the side to pull you in)
((all I hear is the friction))
And then I just want it to be silent
with eye contact and your hand on my cheek
ear to pillow
Hear nothing, but I see us exhale

i just don't feel at home at my house-
i'm sorry mom, it's not your fault-
I just don't think I'm the type who feels like i fit
outside of the people i've been surrounding myself with
my friends are a family, too, you know?
and that's where i feel like
it feels like home

i think i could be a cloud tonight
or climbing up the walls
fingers pulling back my eyelids.
can't wait to make love in the back of a car again,
maybe this time on our way to somewhere else

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

Most moments I have the urge
to get out of my seat and lay on the ground,
so I can stare at the ceiling.
Not much else to do or say or see or hear.
No where else to be.

I am surrounded by love
(which sometimes I mistakenly forget)
and I am full of it
and have plenty to give to others and myself.
Everything else is an over-exaggeration.
Because even if there was seemingly no love around me
I've still got me

so I should always remember
that it is impossible
not to feel loved

because it is always there

I wonder what it's like to be the skin on your wrist,
wrapped so tightly around your veins,
clear and soft and smelling of you.

you never told me the truth you never told me that i was toxic to the touch you never said that every time you ran your hand through my hair it tangled your mind up until all you could think was static
the kind of static that hums,
you could call it beautiful,
but only if you're ******* crazy
--
i think i'd like plants on my bedstand because then when i'm sleeping, maybe my mind will travel into the flowers maybe my thoughts will grow into something worth writing down

My teeth aren't falling out tonight
but the stitches in my thighs are
and I'm not sure how long I can hold myself up
without a reason to.

I am a sinner
in the sense that I want you to bone me so hard right now,
I am a sinner
in the sense that that's all I can think about.

the moon pulls me just like it pulls the waves
(sometimes I am pulled back with the tide)
I am drawn to the skies every starry night
and my mind is drawn to your eyes every time I close mine
because love makes it easy to drown in your blue stare
(how cliche)
my fingers get lost when they run through your hair
and all I ever write anymore is how I love to be tangled in your bed sheets
because that is all my free-roaming mind ever wants to jump to.
You are my favorite place to be
and this wasn't going to be about you, but
the moon pulls me just like it pulls the waves
and I daydream of being pulled into your arms
I won't choke on salt water anymore,
I'll choke on the words I'm learning to understand the meaning of
"I love you"

so this is what it feels like to waste an entire day
I have been lost under covers and suffocating under thoughts
and all I can think of is you
there are moths in my mouth and there is waste in my brain
and tomorrow I hope will be better than today
but right now all I can think of is you

I won't get enough sleep tonight,
but I keep thinking of how old my mother's ankles look
and the way I saw three comets fall tonight...
I wished for more nights like these.
You said I'd get them.

Under ur covers
Tastes like flesh
Or lips or tongue
Tastes a lot like what I love
& then hands are under waistbands
& this comforter is undiscovered land
I'll explore it with you
If you explore me

**** nights like this
i get so sad over things that haven't happened yet

I pretend I am in a room full of boys again
sitting quietly in a corner
bottles being thrown above my head
and smashed against the walls
and I've never looked so lonely
but really, I've never been more alive

then someone grabs my hand and pulls me up and my night truly begins once we make eye contact

but god when you pull me closer,
nuzzle in,
when all i can feel is skin on skin,
when the world falls blank and insignificant to your finger tips
because the world never touched me like this
the world never kissed me like this...
so, sometimes, when you pull me closer,
I forget about the ******* world

and to be completely honest
things are never picture perfect
things never end up movie-like
our lives don't have automatic background music
and your palms will get sweaty if you hold his hand for too long.
sometimes you'll **** during ***
or you'll snort when you laugh
sometimes you'll cry when you don't mean to.
plans will fall through
or you'll be too sad to make plans
and most days you won't wake up stunning
even if you're waking up beside someone you want to look pretty for

but we keep on hoping

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

new safe spot in between his collar bone and ear
wish i could hear his exhale right now
feel it on the top of my head as i rest.
do i trust him?
do i always?
will i ever?
can you believe a man really means what he says when the things he is softly mentioning in your ear are meant for the perfect woman, are too good to be directed at me?
i want to trust him, so i will.
&i'll softly mention that he deserves the world
(but i won't bring up that im scared i can't give it to him)

I am a messed up version of a girl,
clinging to tree stumps and swinging off dead stars
and you know what is the worst part?
you never saw the beauty in that section of myself,
scraping off flesh with shaky hands
and purple eyes

Every time I think of climbing trees
I think of always looking toward the sky
and I never even imagine
the possibility of falling

I could be camping but instead i'm staring at my wrists wishing they'd blush
(ya feel me?)
I just want to be where the trees are

i think you'll get over it fast
i think you're already getting over it
and i think you'll never look at our photos again to reflect once you're done with me
you know, you give me reasons to be insecure,
it's not just my mind betraying me
you feed it.

sigh
but it's okay

the bodies all break,
as one by one,
we walk to the ocean.
The salt spreads out my hair, puts holes in my clothes,
I try hard to keep calm,
but my lack of breath keeps me stuttering sentences,
"I...I promise I love you, it's just, I wanted to s-see the sun...hit the water."

Don't tell me where to go.
Don't tell me who I am,
where I should be,
what part of my mind you think you can reach into and pluck strings at to make me work better, to fix all of this


I don't want to hear it.
Just because you scream, it doesn't mean I have to listen,
and just because you've stapled my eyelids open
it doesn't mean I have to look.

There is no him here to save you from me now
to wash my beating heart with blood coursing through our veins
I can hear that
I want to hear that.
But there is no him here to save you from me now
so I can yell until
your body hits the ground
and you will fall forever
and you won't make a sound.

i know
time passes
i keep sighing
still haven't learned how to sleep when i'm crying
and i am constantly over things
over-thinking
over-dramatic
over-stressed
but one day i'll be over all of it

I can lie all I want,
but you know who I'm not lying to anymore?
Myself.
I know what I want now.
I know what kind of life I want to live.
I know it may not be successful, and it may not have very many people who stay in it for long,
but I think I am finally starting to like who I am
(and know who I am)
and as long as I have myself on my side
what's the worst that can happen?

My life will be one of those magic tricks
where I ask you to
"pick a card, any card,"
and you do and you memorize it and put it back in the pile
and I shuffle the deck and try to give you the right card
but I don't know how to do this trick,
and even though there's a tiny chance I could hold up your card,
I never get it right.
That's what my life will be like
and I don't know how I feel about that
or even how I should feel about that
and I don't know what to do about it.

but the feeling of blades
and fire
and destroying things in the middle of the night
is somehow addictive.

Addictive like your tongue and words, addictive like most dangerous things.

daydreaming of *** and actually liking the idea of making deals like "you clean the dishes, i'll do the laundry and take out the trash"

do you think being at a cliffs edge would benefit or harm my mental health
I think 6 cigarettes this evening is the proper amount to feel like I'm dying
And also forget that I want to
(more than 1200 calories today)
looking over the edge doesnt make me want to jump, it never did
afraid of the fall
but chasing the excitement
****** that I usually find the biggest thrills in pointless acts of love

skin loose and hanging off each limb
i'll pull it to one side,
(try to give you the better angle)
i think its amazing that i can forget all of that,
naked under bed sheets
this boy grabbing my thighs and i only think for a split second, "i wish they were smaller," and then the thought disappears and i don't feel like i take up too much space as he kisses my stomach.
i want to give myself the credit of confidence but i think it's just comfort
and at least that is something
even if it's seemingly only there in the soft presence of a smile

I'm not really into tradition
Except the tradition people like us have of
breaking tradition.
My eyes aren't quite adjusted yet
but god it's easy to focus in on you

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.

but **** my wrists are so empty
you made them this way and I am grateful
but I am also addicted to the pain
and I am triggered and dark
and it is late and I'm alone
but I don't have any razors
so I am left clenching my own teeth
BEGGING THAT ONE DAY THIS FEELING GOES AWAY

I used to be so realistic and reasonable,
nixing words like "forever" out of my head
because what a stupid concept.
now all i want to tell you is,
I wouldn't mind being happy with you forever.

Since I only write love poems,
This ones about the way he said he could see me for the rest of his life and wouldn't consider it a bad one.
I don't remember what I ever say back, exactly
All I know is that it's 1:30am, I've got an 8am tomorrow and I can't sleep because I'm too busy enjoying my daydreams thinking of all the things I could enjoy with you

I've missed bruising my skin and bones from hitting them off of dance floors,
I've missed feeling a connection between my soul
and my body
and my mind.

Let me slam into the ground so I can finally let
all of my frustrations out
through more than crunches and squats and push ups,
let my body tire out so I can finally let
the world spin around
and around and around and around

and I will be turning with it.

When I'm dreaming,
all I feel is the stage beneath my toes as I pirrouette into the spotlight,
and all I want is to leap forever
because I'm crying out there,
putting all of my panic into my palms as I slam them into the ground
again and again
this is all of my frustration
finally letting out
and I can feel your lips here
on the edge of my fingertips.

I know it's hard, sometimes
to keep yourself in sight
but don't go blurry
do not go dull
remember that you are vibrant, after all.