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 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)

I wish I knew what I wanted to say
But all I've got right now is:
it's ok you might be leaving soon
i'll take any amount at all.
i'm afraid a little bit,
and i'm not sure that will go away,
but you can have me regardless
to fiddle around in my ribcage
(just leave a little for me when you go)
(and i know you favor questions, baby,
but tuck away a few answers for me please)

bored as ****
so i bite my nails to the rim
and pretend that maybe you like it when you look at me

i know there's not much to it,
we grow we age we die
20 feels like a ton at 3am.
I suppose I'll have coffee in the morning
perhaps put a needle through the eyelid
(stick it to the brow, hopefully i won't raise them much)

**** that night we snuck out to sit in the freezing cold wet grass
just so we could kiss a bit
should be enough proof
that little things are worth it
(your eye contact and lips)
(holding your hand)
(running my fingers through your hair)
enough proof that with the right people,
times that would have been ******
become magical

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

I bet it's hard to forget me
when I'm breathing down your neck.

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

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)

The story is
I let waves crash over my eye lids
the salt water keeps them open at night.
They sting
sometimes.
Violins ring in my ears
it's a beautiful sound,
but when the trees get high
the music can take over my mind
and make me fall.
This whole 'nonsense' scene,
the curtains half closed because no one knows why,
but no one can fix it and no one on stage is smiling.
I don't get it, either.

I woke up in a box
in the backseat of an unfamiliar car,
driving endlessly and terrifyingly fast
(or maybe we were going so slow it made me itch for a thrill)
I couldn't get out
because this lady was holding me down
and she had it in her mind that she'd like to watch me drown
(in gasoline)
so she could see me scream as I charred
into ashes
burning me
and the box
and the car
to the ground

I think I want to write something
(I accidentally waited up)
(I wait a lot for a girl with very little free time)
(Should I go to sleep or get up to shower )
(Since when was it 1:30am)
Since last year I've been thinking about you every night before bed
What do you think about?
(Sometimes I'll also think of the sky or of floating or of flowers stuck in my throat, but I like to think of your lips and your shoulder blades)
(I like to think of the leaves stuck in my hair and of all the times we laid down in the grass)
I knew I'd fall in love with you

I found the perfect life partner and to my surprise, I've only written a few sappy cringe love poems about him because I get to live the love poem out loud every day of my life
It's almost been 4 years of loving this man,
and from day one, I've never been more sure about anything:
this is the purest, best love that is so good I thought it was only fake
until I found it.
there is no perfect set of words
just a crawling smile on my face every time I think of his name.
to love so nicely, and to be loved so incredibly in return is life's greatest wonder
how did I find this love that comes with no complications?
"how?" every day, but it's a question you shake off because you don't need to ponder it for too long, before you know it you're just 3 hours into a new conversation, legs touching while sitting on the couch, a glance over while you work next to each other separately, head thrown back in laughter as you share a bath in the tub, running errands together happily getting ketchup for your fridge, holding hands as you wait in line at the doctor, playing with his hair as he rests and he smiles in his sleep, just constantly in wonder, in awe, in love

bags under my eyes
i'm sleep deprived
i just might cry
but so much tiiiiiiime

usually mad at myself for eating, pinching the skin of my stomach and thighs, but i've got an eye on that oatmeal and i feel exhausted and what if it's just me being hungry and i want to be strong
but more importantly, i want to be thin
i'm not quite sure why that is
but don't worry, i'm not doing anything about how fat my arms and legs feel, the skin i get to pull around under my chin
i just contour my cheek bones hoping they won't look so full
and feel best on days i pride myself on being small.
what a mixed up world we live in
what a consumer field
what a first-world disease
why do i still order medium t-shirts when i look better in a small
because i'm disillusioned of it all
and i talk about it a lot
for not wanting to talk about it
but i think about it even more

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

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 love you i love you i love you
in ways i don't quite understand sometimes
how loving can feel like it hurts
that it can be so distracting i can't think of anything else
that it can lift me up in seconds
cliche, etc, cliche, etc.
i love you in new ways and in the same ways
i love you because you challenge me to evolve
and i have and i am and i will

why am i here
why are any of us here
why do we assume there's a reason at all
to ponder and tear our hair out over?

why do i feel like the world closes in sometimes and whispers in my ear,
"you're making the wrong choices
you're doing all the wrong things
you're heading the wrong way"

oh my god
my time is running out and I don't know which turn to make
THE LIGHT IS GREEN
THE LIGHT IS GREEN
BUT I WON'T STEP OFF THE BRAKES
BECAUSE WHERE THE HELL DO I GO

i've written some great things
about feelings i don't remember
and people i no longer talk to or think about
and i am afraid
one day
all i'll have of you
are the poems i wrote
(but don't remember writing)

i need to stop treating my mind like a punching bag
i need to take rests and drink water
stop staying up late at night
digging through the past,
knowing i'll never be a first kiss to anyone
-it shouldn't matter, it doesn't-
but do you think about her?
(she was prettier than me)

I try to read my own mind sometimes,
but it never really works itself out
so I end up writing it down and leaving it undecipherable.
...But I'd like to walk on coals, I think
placed onto your chiseled chest above your heart
and I will dance for you there
and you can remember me as that weird girl you were in love with once,
and in the future,
you'll smile at my name
because you'll be laughing at me.

it is 3:49 am
and i am awake
because i slept all day
because i was awake all night
because you were there,
your lips on mine

i guess it feels like i'm staring at a blank wall
and someone with a lab coat and clipboard is standing behind me,
saying, "you have to cover it completely"
and i just sit on the floor and look at it,
my hands empty
my thoughts racing
"cover it with what?" I ask
"I have nothing.
I have no materials to use"
But she just shrugs and writes something down
and I start to sweat and panic
because what is she writing
and what am i supposed to do
How can I cover a ******* blank wall
when my HANDS ARE ******* EMPTY?

tired of thinking these self-destructive words can be beautiful
poems are too often about how you'd put almost anyone ahead of yourself
how they can heat you up quicker than the oven your mom used to cook dinner in
how their eyes alone could give you a rush that makes you wild
(they do this to us, and we assume we can't live up,
but your eyes make someone wild, too
sometimes write about you)

you're so cool and i can't even skateboard off a curb

why do you even think about my eyes?
(I think about yours sometimes too)

i'm getting a headache from exhaustion (?)
come kiss me
come kiss me
come kiss me
i miss you already
i think i miss you the most
your touch the most familiar
your smile the one i longed to smile with since all my teeth grew in

i appreciate having your hand to hold when
there are needles in my neck,
when time moves in ways i can't comprehend,
when the floor is slanted and my eyes are half-closed,
when my mind is at all even a little out of control...

figure 8s on my thighs and my heavy heart sinks sometimes
deeper into the ocean I hide it in
sometimes the current gets too strong

Your ******* sad eyes and sad arms and sad body,
"can you take this cigarette a moment?"
so I grab it from between your sad lips
and your temporary teeth smile at me.

I held the cigarette between my fingers and I swear I could taste you-
your sweat, your lips, your sadness

dreaming of watching myself drown
through decades
and living through the pits of hell.
you thought bursts of fire would scare me,
but man, i'm over it.
I want to be driving myself through the ******* gates

my skull and bones remember my crush
when I pushed the nails through my tongue
and told me to "wait for it
wait for it
wait for my love
because I don't know how to feel without cuts."

I haven't talked since
and my bones are still shattered
and only my own life can save itself, I know
I am trying.
I'm trying to balance love and hate
but I can only remember the slicing of my flesh
when hate licked up my chest and bit through my lips
my hair is tangled and covering my sight
the only escape is through my own mind.

I am trying and hiding
and hiding
and hiding
and ripping my bed sheets apart
so I can suffocate in them
but I never let me because
life is beautiful
and I can be beautiful,
but my spilled blood is not.

trying to pick apart the bones in my hand
snap off each finger tip
hang them on strings from the ceiling
i hope you keep yourself warm next winter and i hope you'll wonder if i sleep with enough blankets
i don't mind sharing blankets with you

Whether you want to continue to grow together
or you'd rather grow apart,
just let me know
when you know
but don't give me false hope
and we can just enjoy the summer before the winter hits
if that's all you want

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.

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.

-I hope you know how often I want you around.

-Let me stay a little longer.

-I'm so happy you came, you're here, I'm so happy when you are.

-I like you so much I often think it must be love (but I don't care what the feeling is called).

when i'm next to you in your bed and i'm not even tired
it's usually no problem getting to sleep
when i'm ******* exhausted on my couch by myself,
i toss and turn for hours

this is *******

listening to alternative music
while ripping my limbs off of my body
this
this is 3am
and
dedication

sometimes i explain things to people i shouldn't talk to,
-like how sometimes my mind lags
and my vision and breathing go with it
and it is difficult to think of reality-
and then i remember who i'm talking to
(remember it's not you)
and the look on their faces makes me laugh.
their stare makes me think maybe i am crazy,
i like talking to you because you are real
and you don't make me feel crazy,
even when i might sound crazy

i guess we have no future
(at least you know)
so i look outside of the driver's seat window
my hands on the wheel
passing trees and leaves
(everything here will be tainted with your memory)
and i found myself wondering what the hell is the ******* point
if you're already planning to leave me behind
(i almost cried, it stung)
but tonight as i stood to leave, you said
"don't go. just one more minute? don't leave me yet"
so i laid back down and kissed you again
and i change my mind,
there doesn't need to be a ******* point to any of it

SOMETIMES I JUST CURL INTO A BALL
AND PRETEND THAT I AM TALKING WITH YOU
BECAUSE I NEVER GET THE RIGHT WORDS OUT IN PERSON
SO MAYBE GOING CRAZY AND SAYING SWEET WORDS INTO THIN AIR
WILL BALANCE OUT MY REGRET
OF NEVER TELLING YOU
HOW GREAT YOU ARE

have i used this line already?
it makes sense because really i can't stop thinking about the rain on his windshield and how the drops sounded while the smiths were playing,
how good it felt to be kissed in his passenger seat,
it feels like it was a lifetime ago,
and i lied,
this is a poem about a boy
this is a poem about a boy
this is a poem about a boy

i hope i always remember your car doors and rain

I will probably glorify you until you fizzle and burn out
and then you'll be left looking at your hands
and I'll be wondering why I don't want them on me anymore.
I wonder if my love is like sparklers
whenever I grabbed one and lit it,
I'd be too afraid to hold it until the very end
I'd drop it in the grass instead.
Maybe I don't know how to love without dropping things in the grass
but it doesn't feel like that yet.
I will grab the grass with fists
pour my eyes over with soil if that's what it takes to plant flowers in my vision,
because I deserve to glorify a ******* boy
if i think love is worth catching
before it hits the ground.
Besides, I learned how to light matches
and now I never drop a stupid sparkler

I had a dream
that a monster woke me up in the night
and slashed my wrists for me.
I screamed.
I kicked
I let myself bleed.
In the morning I walked up to you
and you didn't believe me when I said it wasn't me.

1.  All I can see are headlights and all I can think of are your eyes

2. We just pulled to the side of the highway to let a guy *** in the trees

3. Will this night ever end, will I ever see you again, will I die here and let my last kiss be under a stairway in a building we call 'hell'? Will I make it through this trip, what if I don't

4. Hey I am still just as crazy about you even over all these state lines

should one even bother trying to be cute or nice when the pay off of such things are purely selfish ego fulfilling agendas?
If I am dainty and adorable will I feel better or will I feel just as stone cold and as unsure as always, just with a softer edge, cookie dough with kids not caring about the uncooked eggs, the warnings their mothers give them because there is absolutely no need to be cautious with cookie dough, and adorable seems the same way.
Are appearances anything but that, and if we didn't have mirrors would we actually feel better for ourselves, or wear make-up for ourselves,
not for any man, just for our own confidence and desire.
Truly, it is selfish.
I like to be pleased when looking in the mirror, and I'm not sure that I ever 100% am, but posting a cute photo of myself is hardly ever done because sometimes self indulgence on social media just feels like an inconvenience to my own true being
meaning
that
i am a fence.
and my own grass is greener where I water it

time is weird because i can't remember what it looked like to look at the first boy i kissed
time is weird because i can't remember feeling his arms
time is weird because it doesn't matter now

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

tell the boy to wait up
you've got to sneak in a kiss
before he forgets the color of your eyes
and that once he thought they were pretty