I'm going to mess up
I'm going to mess up
I'm going to mess up
I want to stay on this stage forever.

I'm afraid to tell you that I am not joking when I say that
your eyes shine brighter than my own smile
and I'm not really sure what being in love feels like,
but if it's not this,
then it's not worth it.
The grease has piled on top of my face and head and heart
but you cleanse it with every pointed star
and squinted eye looking at me parallel to my shoulders
our chests perfectly in line.
I always have to catch my breath when the amount of clothing covering your torso
changes reality to a daydream,
but not even trophies match the fluttering I feel when you look me in the eye to tell me
"You are so beautiful,"
immediately after you've seen every single one of my flaws.

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

i had a theme but lost it,
wish i was lyrically inclined
wish i had more and more time
even though these days i mostly waste it.

but idk whats wasting time, exactly

My full stomach is a message on an answering machine:
"Honey I'm just checking in to make sure you made it home safe, don't forget to call me back.."

I tell myself to eat to make it to tomorrow
(I say, it's okay, it's really not that much),
in reality I just lack self control
And I don't have a home phone line baby,
My voicemail box is full
Let's lose 10 pounds this month and
Still
Manage
To
Smile

i'd like to rock climb your spine,
bungee jump off the bridge of your nose,
tackle the pillow beneath your head,
kiss you softly on the cheek, and then
i'd like to crawl into my own ear and whisper
"it's okay to go to sleep thinking of yourself"

i can feel d i s t a n c e
it's an ache in my bones,
creaking doorways,
noisy joints. stinging knees and ribs every door frame and welcome mat
i don't know what i want except a certain proximity

there's a lot to the body of a poem,
i don't know.
sometimes i think a whole book of short sentences and 'enter,'
a whole book that reminds me of my early high school stream-of-thought poems,
shouldn't be acclaimed as great poetry on a shelf in barnes and noble.
but at the same time, I think you could leave a pile of feces to bake in the sun on the sidewalk,
3 people step in it by accident in a day,
and that is still life's finest example of poetry.
I've never really claimed to write poetry
but
there's a lot to the body of a poem,
each curve, each cellulite clump,
each real and exposed part of a poem
close up in a mirror type of exposed,
naked in front of your love for the first time type of exposed,
those are deserving...
but so are life's poems,
which is a lot like **** on the sidewalk.

I think I write both, and I suppose I like both and I know I am both.

when we went to the county fair
you felt ill after a ride
and as we walked from the blinking lights
and screaming kids
you told me, next to our buddies,
how much you liked listening to me on that ride
the noises i made at every unexpected toss and turn
not really screams, but...
"i just like your company."
-the simplest things you say and do
-make me the wildest for you

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

i guess my blurry vision can still focus on our blurred conversations
and every time another bottle smashes
i'll think of the way your lips made me crash my brain against my skull over and over
because sometimes when i think too much,
i wish i'd never looked you in the eye at all
only for selfish reasons,
like the inevitable day we go in opposite directions.
you are more than a tongue or a hand holding a guitar pick
you have made more of an impression on me than i have in mud with boots on
and i suppose it is scary to think maybe i'll always be pressed like a flower in a heavy book
with the way your smile made me feel

wait until your eyes hurt
you keep running your tongue over your teeth
you think 'everything is fine, or at least it will be'
and even though you still daydream
no one wants to hear about it, molly.
daydream to yourself-
go talk with someone else
(she closed the door between us and smiled at her dog,
I was mid-sentence, but I stopped)

start a conversation//
i care a lot and that shouldn't make you nervous//
i talk so much, god, just let me listen
//
and then slip your hand under my shirt and whisper some small talk
unbutton my pants while you talk about the weather
i'll tell you that i think rain smells nice when you lick up my stomach
and i'll run my hands down to your hips as i ask you what you ate for breakfast
"I had peanut butter toast," I'll say,
finding your zipper
\
despite how much i love our conversations now,
you can always talk a little more about yourself

I should tear my muscles apart each night
stretch them all the way to your house,
so part of me can linger there
and dance around your dreams.

It's a selfish thought.

please don't look at me (look at me more)
I will never believe you when you say I am your favorite
(I know too well the cruelty of this world
because I have been that cruel)
I have built my happiness into yours
I've put my smile in the palm of your hand and I'll let you punch walls
with my lips still inside your clenched fist
and none of it is preventable or your fault.
People are made to break things,
and I'm pretty sure you are in my life
to be the first one to break my heart.

So please do it,
break my heart,
but leave it shattered
the way a vase shatters when a girl throws it against a wall
the way you sometimes shatter our silence with sweet words
like "you're so beautiful"

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

don't worry about me in thunderstorms
i've learned to inhale the lightning
to gasp-in every raindrop that falls
to clasp each clap of thunder in the palm of my hand
i've learned to put my head to your chest
when i am having a nightmare.

******* *****, taking *****,
having to **** but just wanting to kiss
daydreaming of ******* and ******* and you
this world is gross and beautiful

In the bottom bunk,
Thinking of all the ****** things I've said to people while they were sad.
I was trying to make them feel less lonely, but "everyone feels like that sometimes" is hardly helpful and it just puts down the fact that they're feeling at all.
I wish I wouldn't talk sometimes, or
I wish I didn't grow up believing that everyone feels everything because I am constantly feeling so much
but not everyone does.
And believing that everyone feels doesn't help the feeling.

Next time anyone or myself is sad,
I will not minuscule it by involving it with everyone.

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

isnt it strange how many lives we enter
then leave, just to pretend it never happened.
i miss so many people in different ways,
and i miss who i was with them
how different and how much growing i didnt know was coming.
isnt it cool to see the timeline
it scares me, too
i thought letting go would be a release
i thought people lived, learned, then moved on in a way that allowed them to not miss their old lives
because the new ones are better, older, more mature
but what if growing up is just collecting dusty memories
i guess it is all about remembering the good things
i just dont know who i am - only what i've been

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)

binge eating at 12am and wanting to die is my new ******* routine
(but I don't want to die
I just want to disappear for a little while
Lay down outside and chain smoke
empty out,
come back to start new)

my lips are dry and i forgot chapstick and i still think of kissing you so all your ******* saliva can help moisten up these bad boys
but i'm four hours away and thats okay some weeks i just wish i had the right arms to lay in every single day
and yet i still need to shut the door when i brush me teeth in this hotel,
not because i don't like my company
but because **** for a second (at least) i need to be by myself
and i'm tired with work
but i'm kind of just sitting around all day, watching dances i don't get to dance in
wishing i got to dance, but happy to view
and i'm not sure who i am or how i represent myself
and it feels lonely
though at moments everything seems in place
but regardless, right now i'm here and still mainly thinking "**** kids, straighten your legs and point your feet and put your shoulders down and breathe"

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

I start another year tomorrow of solid routine
but all I want to do is find a warehouse to play music in
to drink in and **** in
find a place where my name does not reek of my labels
find a place where the walls can never remember me.

Skinny dipping until 1am,
Welcoming fall with one of the clearest night skies I've laid eyes on.
I said, I hope you didn't catch my cold
You said you didn't care if you did.
I said, thanks for being the type of person who makes me feel like I can take up space
You said you like the amount of room I take, mentally and physically
I said, (I want to see you again) with a sigh
You said, when will you be home next?

I don't know

i'd like to start an adventure
to start a time in my life
where i stop caring and thinking
and start moving and going
and telling you what i mean

yeah, the ocean will be there tomorrow,
but we know our sunken chests and fluttering hearts
might not make it in time for the view

my dad sighs and walks up the stairs
and i don't have many secrets,
but writing things down feels like one.
telling you i don't just want to see the grand canyon,
i want to see you there,
that feels like a secret.

i used to use index cards as book marks so i could neatly write down my favorite quotes/lines from the pages and sometimes i wish i took more pictures so i could do that with moments.
sometimes things last, but sometimes things aren't supposed to,
and i think i'd like to have a few pictures of what time won't let me take with me
(i should take more pictures of the people that make me smile, just in case)

A night that feels like years ago
but was really merely seconds
creeps into your dreams
(not that you're sleeping)
and reminds you of how good it felt to get under your own skin
(you deserved it, you little ****)
and after the memory makes you sink into your own skull so deep you can't even hear the morning birds chirp you into reality,
you walk face first into closed doors, trying to slam through
and the door handle is right there
but your hands are tied behind your back
tied so tight it's cutting
(this is what you wanted, ISN'T IT?)

there is a part of me that breaks myself down to the point where I am crawling
pulling at my scalp to get out of my own mind
but god ******* ****, does it feel good not to be crawling into someone else's arms.

I am learning to pick my own self off the ground
wipe my own tears from my eyes
wrap my arms around my torso and hold my own hand

I am constantly making more out of little things,
like last night when you took me into the other room
and we laid on the floor in the dark - you bit my lip
and said it helped you feel normal again...
I am still thinking of it,
of the look you gave me on the couch
while I took my glasses off to wipe the lenses
I SWEAR EVERYONE ELSE IN THE ROOM DISAPPEARED
I swear you must have been feeling the same, you must have,
I am still thinking of it,
of the way you wrap your arms around my waist,
of every time you grab my hand,
of every little strand of hair that you twirl around your finger,
I am still thinking of it.
You must have been feeling the same,
you must have

sometimes i bite my tongue
because i still haven't told you i love you
and maybe i never will
and i will always regret it

do you feel the same,
were you biting your tongue too?
you must have been,
you must have

right?

6 months ago you made me a playlist and sent me the link
and you told me to tell you when i pressed play
so you could press play at the same time
and we could listen to it together
and talk about what we're hearing at the same time

one of my favorite things to do is listen with you

There's no point in trying to understand the mechanics of thought right now
I'm choosing to sit this one out.
I'll wait at the end of the bed,
Come when you call
Stick my hand out in the dark,
Trace your shoulder and whisper,
"I'm not sure we'll make it out of this okay"
(and maybe we'll both shrug..because we don't care)

You know what it is?
It's this shadow that blocks my vision and my heart
and if I could stop it, I would, I think...
but I can't
so I stopped trying

and I stopped pretending that I don't secretly enjoy how this emptiness makes my shadow come out to play
I guess I missed it
it's familiar

I have shark teeth.
I use them to bite into myself when the night is too dark and I need that extra splash of red.
I chomp
and when I smile
it scares you.

I WANT YOU ALL THE TIME.
I THINK OF YOU CONSTANTLY.
I CAN'T GET YOU OFF MY MIND.
this is new and scary and I don't want to stop thinking of you
but I am afraid sometimes that
you want me to get you out of my head
I worry too much and sometimes I shake
or tap my foot
or scratch my arms until they bleed
and sometimes you hold me
and it's all I ******* think about until I see you again

Failed flesh and bone
Way more than id like to be
I'm getting less than 4 hours of sleep tonight and I want 3 more cigarettes but I don't have the energy to hold them up to my lips
I think I am empty again
Glazed off from all of it
Craving

DO YOU GET IT???
I fall hard
and I fell for you
so for the next whoever-knows-how-long
I will be wishing to be a plant on your windowsill
or your favorite pillow
or the mug you drink out of every morning.
I wish I was the hat on your head
or your bass guitar
(I want you to pluck me, strum me, touch me)
I want to be your computer chair
maybe the pencil you use to take tests with.

I will wish I was something you'd keep around
something simple you don't think too much about
something you know you've got and you know you want
I will be wishing

slowly swallowing
throwing out the rest
my good days end in quiet protest
mind against heart
heart beating my ribs
I never quite figured out how to blend in

but I can live happily on the outside of the lines
with you

We look to the sky
the moon almost as high as we feel
make-up smeared and bodies exhausted.
Smiling, I lean against a brick wall
and we laugh because we've just danced our show
we've just danced through life
we just breathe in the air outside the theater
our theater
our world.

in a weird spot today
2am staring at walls
shaky fingers
and since every poem turns into a love poem,
i want you to want to impress me still
i want to rest my hand on your cheek and close my eyes and be in my most comfortable place

Everything can seem so crisp
but I wonder if your love story is genuine
and if those are just drunk eyes
or maybe sad eyes.

super good at having super split ends
and hoping you won't notice
really great at embarrassing myself
(maybe you won't mind)

DRINK COFFEE AND READ POEMS, talk more often, maybe even to a therapist. let yourself be heard and seen, let him ask you questions, let yourself ask him if he wants to go look at the stars with you but don't let yourself think about it too much if he says no

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

you want to take a look into my self-image?
my mirror is not even cracked
(i would hate that symbolism)
but **** do i look distorted.
I'm always too fat and my acne is impressive,
my hair is too flat or frizzy or greased,
Every look there's something dissatisfying
but god, sometimes the way you look at me...

not even that, I guess. I don't need another's affection
to forget about my own distaste (though it helps)
but mainly it's just the moments I am smiling and with the right people
that I forget about the distortions of my body and my face

even dark cemeteries and UFOs
flashing lights in the night skies and 'keep out' signs...
even strangers and guns and things that frighten me
if you are heading toward them,
i will follow

There are a few things that I don't care about in life and some of them are:
-why you're a vegetarian or vegan
-who my boyfriend is following on social media
-if people hold the door for me

I do care whether or not people respect your dietary preferences
If people think their girlfriends can't know who they're following on social media
And if people slam the door in my face

she said i better get some sleep
but how could i choose rest
when climbing into your bed and running my hand through your hair
was an option