I'm in a friendship
with my computer screen.
**** everything.

this morning
i am stuck

i am stuck
between
Blue
and
Pink

every morning
i face the same decision
and ask the question
how do i feel today?

and every morning
i struggle
not because i cant find the answer
but because im scared of it

because i know
that i cant be Purple
thats too confusing

but i feel Purple

July 3rd, 2016
10:42 pm

I can hear
fireworks
going off somewhere
in my town

And I wish
as each firework
explodes
and as they
give out  bursts
of sound
that they are instead a gun
putting holes
through my chest
head
stomach
anywhere
to relieve me
of the pain of living

I am constantly
craving
my own
destruction.

I want
to cut
to burn
to fight
to binge
to do anything
to make me feel
something.

I don't want this.

I'd rather
be happy
back there
again.

remember
when I was there?
does anyone miss me?
does anyone care?

before all this
before I wanted to die
everything was amazing.

I had everything
I had people
I had support.

I want that again.

god you self-righteous, idealistic ****
I don’t like your old poetry
it all feels too cheesey— and it’s overly emotional
write something fresh, publish something better
get the anger out (you can’t bottle it up)
if you’re going to explode then do it through a pen
or at least, leave yourself out of it
there’s so much wrong in this world
write about that
I know you have at least 10 poems
angry, political ones
just sitting in your notes app
waiting to be jolted to life
pull the lever, Dr. Frankenstein
This Monster Kills Fascists.

i'm so misanthropic
i barely like myself
i hope that some day
we'll all be rotting in hell
and i know it's not fair
and i know it's not kind
but **** this ****
i just wanna die

The freezing
Burning
On my wrist
My hand goes numb
My heart beats fast

This isn't what I want
But I guess I can settle

My sister
she had cancer
and I was scared she would die.
But she fought.
And she fought.
And she never gave up.
even when she lost her hair.
Even when she had a feeding tube.
Even when she thought no one cared.
Because that's the thing they don't talk about
when they talk about cancer.
What if all your friends
are bad friends?
She had one
maybe two friends
who stayed with her.
She changed schools because of the cancer.
But those one
maybe two friends
mattered so much to her
and that just shows
that nothing means more than love.

the suffering
that runs
through all of us
like a familial bond
the water of the womb
linking us all
together.

we all suffer greatly
from our minds
whether it's
chemicals
or trying to forget.

we all try to forget
try
try
try as you might
but you can never forget
never escape
the hell of existence.

so, dear reader
suffer
suffer
go on and suffer
for our suffering
keeps us human.

Some day
It'll all be over
No more people
No more thoughts
No more feelings
Here's hoping
That it'll be soon

I'll drink to that

I feel a burning in my chest
as I inhale the carbon monoxide
Romanticizing smoking
is ******* overdone
But I'm guilty of it
So I'm quitting
Monday
I have 4 cigarettes
to get me through tomorrow
and then I'm done
Or, at least I hope I'm done

www.google.com

songs for feeling alone

no song
anywhere on
the internet
could help
this feeling
of loneliness

May 1st, 2016
8:44 pm
I officially have 15 days with you.

****.

I cannot do this
I cannot do this
I will miss you
I will miss you so badly.

You are all that matters to me
Nothing has mattered this much to me.
Ever.

Not music
Not writing
Not saving myself

Speaking of saving myself, I didn’t do that
You did

Remember?
You saved me
I looked at myself in the mirror and hated what I saw
I hated the lump in my throat
I hated my flat chest
I hated the way my stomach bumps out a little

But then you turned me around and said
“You’re beautiful.”

And you meant it.

You meant it when you said it that night in the garden.
You meant it when you whispered it in my ear.
You meant it.
You ******* meant it.
You meant it like no one had ever meant anything before.

You’re all that matters to me
You are my universe
You are my earth
And my sun
You are my alpha
And my omega
My life starts and ends with you.

So I may have 15 days left with you
But **** it
I will be ****** if I don't make the best of it.

Because I love you.

I loved you that night at the bookstore.
I loved you when we went to pride together.
You know, I wanted that to be a date.
I spent that whole day wishing that it was a date.

I have loved you for so long
It feels like forever.

So **** this 15 days thing
I will love you till I die,
And I’ll even love you from hell.

oh, gods
I just want
to feel something again.

this alway happens. I
"get better"
but it doesn't last, and
each time
it's shorter
and shorter
until it's just a week and a half.

no amount of meds, or
crystals, or
therapy, or
aroma therapy, or
meditation, or
anything
will help me feel better.

maybe it's time to quit
"getting better"
and accept my
sad
pointless
reality.

Oh sweet release
the burn
that stings
for minutes
hours after
my small attempt
at erasing the pain
at feeling better
oh how I love you.

your sting
when fabric touches you
serves as
a constant reminder
that I deserve pain
I deserve bad things.

this isn't a problem
it's my ******* nightmare
and I'm the one
who's paying for it.

Words mean nothing to me
So if you want me to understand
You better cut me open
You'll have a better shot of reaching my soul
I don't remember things
If you start a sentence with
"Do you remember...."
No
I don't

Every day is a blur
I know I lived this day
But in my soul
I haven't left my bed

Every interaction I have plays on repeat in my head
I can’t stop it
It just loops
I think about what I said
And what they said
Until it’s so overanalyzed
That no meaning can be drawn from it

What's with all the
depressing poetry?
morgan?
are you okay?

how do you write a poem
when your feelings are too complex for words

how do you write a poem
when you're scared they might send you away for it

how do you write a poem
when you're so out of practice you haven't written in months

you open up your notebook
or laptop
or whatever method of writing you prefer
and you write down everything

I was feeling
Really ****** tonight
But listening to Astoria
Has kinda made it better
It tells the story of getting over a break up
And sometimes
We need to revisit old relationships
And work through them again
I think that's part of being human

I swear I've listened through we could be beautiful
More times than I could count
I'm fairly confident that I know at least most of the lyrics
I can tell you that 11 blocks is in C Major
And that it's a simple chord progression
Of F, C, and G
In that order
And that even though the chords never change
It does this beautiful thing
Where it feels like they do
And I've even recommended Wrabel
To my therapist
I quote 11 blocks a lot during my sessions
I've written at least one Wrabel inspired poem
Which was based around the first line of the chorus of Poetry
And I don't know why I'm telling you this
Or, rather writing a poem for you as if I'm talking with you
I guess it's just that this is all I have of you
A couple poems
Five songs
And exactly one playing card with a shark on it
I believe it's a seven of hearts, but don't quote me on that
It sits on my bedside table, and I would check that
But I just want to keep writing
And let me be clear about one thing
I am not obsessed with you
I love you, and I care about you
But I don't have feelings for you
I know I grew extremely attached to you
During our nine days
But that's because of something that I didn't tell you or Blake or anyone there about
I have borderline personality disorder
Now, for me
Borderline makes me latch on to people
And once I do
I develop feelings for them
It is often said that people with borderline
Have something called an fp
Favorite person
Which is basically a human comfort item
If that makes any sense
For the good part of two years
My ex boyfriend was my fp
But when I met you
I don't know
Something about you allowed me to let go
I can now go at least three days without talking to him
I don't obsess with him anymore
And I have you to thank for that
Okay, the album ended
Which is probably a sign that this has gone for too long
And I know that I'm going to send this to you
Even though when I started writing I promised myself I wouldn't
Just please
Please
Let me know if you're okay
Because I love you
And I care about you
And I miss you
⁃ morgan

I want to write a poem
Something I can show people
And be proud of
Without feeling judged

But the topics
That fly through my mind
Are too depressing
And I don't want to make anyone sad


I'll write happy poems when I'm dead