i function but cannot process
achieving normality at the price of memory
going through the fluid motions of life's challenges
separating my thoughts from my flawed actions
unbothered and apathetic;
my eyes are blurred and my mouth silent
if only the skies smiled
the veil over my eyes would lift
i could be animate once more
until the clouds frown again.

it's a gray day
and i'm stuck on the loading screen of life
a wheel of circling dots taunting my eyes
buffering, buffering
slowly working
i wish i could stay here forever

it's a day stuck between the past and the future
quiet and boring and utterly joyful
if only i did not have to move from my bed
if only i did not have to escape my mind
or distract my brain from the hollowness of my bones
if only i could move
i could get my life together on this gray, boring day
but alas,
my bones are feather light and my skin is floating away
my brain is discombobulated and my heart is not okay
unfortunately i am sick
in the mind, in the head
and the me-that-isn't-me
tumbles into space again.

panicked paranoid breaths convulse through my tight chest
quietly hiding underneath the frail sheets of my bed
my head aches; my body aches
yet i cannot stop
tears well up in my clenched closed eyes
is this how i'm going to die?
fragments of thoughts whisper softly
confirming my terrified beliefs
good night, good night
my vision grows dark as stuttering fingers claw at the spot where my heart was.

my suicide note will read
"you'll love the memory of me
more than you love the me now"
overdose or bleeding out on the bathroom floor
i've yet to decide.
my body forms out of static, quietly buzzing
as i lie dying
and my chapped lips will curve into a smile
as i realize death is not as peaceful
as it seems to be.

it's a gray day
and i'm stuck on the loading screen of life
a wheel of circling dots taunting my eyes
buffering, buffering
slowly working
i wish i could stay here forever

it's a day stuck between the past and the future
quiet and boring and utterly joyful
if only i did not have to move from my bed
if only i did not have to escape my mind
or distract my brain from the hollowness of my bones
if only i could move
i could get my life together on this gray, boring day
but alas,
my bones are feather light and my skin is floating away
my brain is discombobulated and my heart is not okay
unfortunately i am sick
in the mind, in the head
and the me-that-isn't-me
tumbles into space again.

i might be immature and young and inexperienced
and i might just be in love with the idea of love
but seeing your smile
and listening to your cheesy whispers late at night
holding your hand and pressing my cheeks into your shoulders
leaning my head against your chest and blushing with every compliment
with every second i spend with you
i like to believe
i finally know what love is.

spiders
my music somehow disappearing
heights
being abandoned by all the people i love in the world
becoming addicted to the substances that tempt me
coffee
children
the shadows that hide under my skin whispering their thoughts to the world
my stories never blooming into fruition
not taking a nap after school
being not good enough for the boy i say i love you too
looking at myself in the mirror
my hands
the song lemonade by jeremy passion
being shot at through the window
breaking down
loving.

persistent portraits fill the air
sky-blue hearts and broken chairs
with deeper meanings than i can fathom
i bounce off the ceiling, upside down in the gallery
whimsically indifferent to the stars
my hands are shaky and my mind is blank
but all i can remember is
the checkered sheets upon your bed
the grooves on your knuckles and the etches on your cheeks
the firmness of your muscles and the warmth i feel with you
i escape because i cannot fathom where you have gone
take me with you, my lover
im trapped inside a never-ending maze
but you have flown to the moon and above
broken hearts and sky-blue chairs.

time saved my soul
in the way only desperate lovers can
my eyes no longer filled with tears
i can smile again

slowly,
the sky we shared together
shattered into frozen blue
pale and icy, just like your face
when i said
i didn't love you
i'm sorry, it's my fault
but i couldn't take it any more
stealing the love from your heart
when there were others that could kiss you better
without seeing it as a chore
i feel as though i am a leech
taking your life source
selfishly, jealously
as if you meant nothing to me
but a lover once loved
but now,
no more.

my life is a fragrant mess
filled with scents of the musty past
my head is dizzy with all the smells
that hit me with a blast
the moment i unchain the locked door
to the room with the perfumes
my legs shake
and collapse to the floor
overcome by deja vu
my memories are sad
tinged with a shade of blue
my memories are rarely happy
and none of them are new
for my life is morose and grim
saddened with self-pity
i write poetry to remind myself
life isn't all that pretty
i sit among a field of flowers
quietly picking stems
of those i find the ugliest
those i press to leather books
and to history i condemn
one for every broken heart
one for every locked door
one for every kiss we shared
until we fell apart.

we sprouted wings
reckless in our adolescent love
we flew into the sun
attracted by its warmth
we reached for affection and found one another
in times of uncertainty and change
we grasped onto the slim love we had
and forced it to sprout
to grow into a flower
that wilted after several months
we became heedless
of the warnings given to us
we moved too fast
and did flips through the air
because everything was alright
until we burnt and fell
a flaming meteor,
finally returning back to earth
"us" died a spectacular death
tragic and full of lessons

but
we have a second chance
we have learned our lesson
we have grown up and matured
and now
we can use our wings
to soar peacefully together
without touching the sun
we can fly at our own pace
we can embrace without caring
about the consequences
we are the legends that made it
icarus watches us from above,
and calls us angels.

fast hearts beat
with the rhythm of taiko drums
urgent yet peaceful
reassured in their consistency
every touch flattering
and flirting with danger
of the possibility of us
whispering longing dreams
through the haze of sleep

i wish for the future
of when we no longer need
to dance around one another
when we finally embrace
with no fear for the future
when i can hold your hand in mine
and peacefully drift off to sleep
with only dreams of happiness
and your heart beating close to mine

wait for me,
just a little longer
my dreams lie with you
and my future as well

at night i tend to toss and turn
and tangle up my sheets
my dreams are filled with broken glass
shards littering my feet
it kills my heart to see the stars
when im so down and beat
if the moon could tell me secrets
those secrets would not be sweet
and my heart understands that the love
we have is bittersweet
goodnight, my dear lover
i will miss you well
for my soul has become
obsolete.

weeping hearts fill to the brim with love,
bits of happiness seeping out of the cracks
constant shadows pushing my head down
but his presence shoves them away
im not good enough for him, they say
but i can still hope anyway
i wish my heart was good enough for him
but im damaged goods
he deserves better, they say
i agree wholeheartedly but
my heart still beats fast
my eyes cant look away
and i stay away
because i couldnt touch someone like that

bound by the sky and tied to the ocean
my soul clings to the freedom of blue
blue waves; blue heavens
i wish to soar
i wish to dive
i wish to breathe under the suffocating embrace of water
i wish to breathe above the kitten-soft clouds
my heart only loves the way my body glides through the pool
and the endless expanse of earth beneath me as i fly
i am made for something other than earth.

drift through the air
wonder if anyone knows you are there
sob with defeat as the wind sighs
you are a ghost, forever silent.

fickle hearts yearn for affection
latching onto each other with wavering devotion
dancing the dance of teenage emotion
sensual; even the slightest touch causes *******

bouts of sadness stirred in with monotonous days
excitement numbed; eyes dull
drilling useless facts into empty skulls
sunshine drifts through windows with emotionless rays

technology created with constant evolution
information spoon-fed by media
words like "morals" need an encyclopedia
together we cry with constant revolution

they fight for
their god, their rights
together we cry for justice
because tonight is our night.

children do not care if you are gay
if you are a different race, if you're disabled
children just want to know if you want to play
children are accepting until someone tells them that they shouldn't
if the parents are homophobic, so too will the child
they are raised on beliefs,
but if you allowed children to thrive without interruption
without corruption to their accepting demeanors
they will form a much better society
than the segregated one we live in now.

slowly retreating into a previous shell
tearing off painted on skin to reveal fragile vulnerability
taking its place on my face
straight lined apathy mixed with sorrow replacing
bright, faked smiles covered in exhaustion
it feels too much--is it time to stop pretending?
as winter turns to spring
the world is blooming in newness but nothing has changed in my mind
progress is turning backwards,
i'm undoing myself all over again
wrists stained with marks of harm and
bottomless eyes filled with nothing but tiredness
my depression floods the shore with its darkness
sweeping away sleep and love
self-care and memory fades
this episode will pass eventually but
if only i had someone to help me
swim through the waves
and away from the swiftly moving tides of insanity.

breath hitched in the back of my throat,
sharp nails digging into the pale flesh of my palm
flushed cheeks and down-turned eyes
chewing on plump lips with pointed canines
afraid to look up but
his finger pushes my chin up
delicately,
he leans in.

i fall into his trap.

heartfelt notes springing out
from tough strings beneath the pads of my fingers
gently holding a wooden bow
that sways to the sound it produces
creating sounds of somber joy
and terraced tones creating
a magnificent cacophony
that makes my heart soar
chin resting on glowing wood
my violin creates a secret world.

he met a princess.
deep in the lush woods,
cool breeze caressing their flushed cheeks.
warm and comfortable as the leaves rustled.
he met a princess dressed in
tattered garments and ***** skin.
wide-eyed in astonishment,
her eyes were a chocolate brown.
she was nothing like the fairy tales--
she didn't wear a beautiful dress
embroidered with flowers and covered in pink.
she didn't have delicate features,
nor an escort of any kind.
her lips were chapped from being outside
and she wasn't skinny as a twig.
yet her personality was shining
her eyes lit up while she laughed
and reminded him of comfort and home.
the smell of her perfume and shampoo
became special, became hers.
their hands interlocked not-so-perfectly,
but they made it work, in their own
clumsy, clumsy fashion.

and she was a princess,
because he treated her so.

alarmed waves crash down
as metal screens slam shut
my brain suddenly darkens
body still, frozen in panic
fractured light breaks into a multitude of
mocking fireflies; taunting my vision with their rapid movement
images transition to harsh duplicates, swaying back and forth
eyes unfocused and darting
where's the esca p  e? i n   e  e   d t  o es    c  a        p       e
my words are drifting away from me
i'm going to die
i'm going to die
draw in short harsh breaths
that wrack my lungs
shaking with fear
i'll die here
in this hospital room
the heart monitor going wild
beeps personified
to lead me into the darkness

how bright can a star
shine until its fluorescent
heart explodes to dust?

in my head,
your voice speaks vicious words
your fist meets my face
your eyes flash with disdain
and it's you (but not you)
you would not do that
unless you would
you but not you
hurts me because it's you but not you
and i hang onto half truths
made for masochism
it's you but not you and
i love you
but not the one in my head
yet im so afraid of rejection
i construct delirious painful hallucinations
to cope with something that hasn't
even happened yet.

god,
don't romanticize my scars
the crisscross reminder of my past sorry
agony and nightmares
silvery-white and healed long since
accepted but not loved
don't spout metaphors
on how you can cure me--because you can't
don't romanticize my mental illness
but be my right hand man
when i do war against it.

iridescent moon
reflected light permeating through darkness
projected through pitch-black rooms
a solace for the paranoid
the afraid, the alone
quietly standing by
a beacon of protection
against the monsters of the night.

depression comes and goes
in episodes, in waves
washing up the beach of my consciousness
leaving behind shells of memories
broken hearts and bruised ribs
sunshine laughter, turned bittersweet
and *****-stained porcelain toilets

i collect shells
hold them close to my heart
despite their broken, jagged edges
scratching thin protective layer
hang them up in the skies
to act as moons
and the tide gets rougher
heartbeat becomes irregular
as tears make way for beads of blood
steadily filling my lungs
until i am swimming in my own misery,

it feels like a rush of euphoria
zipping down my veins
comfortably settling into the tension of my body
seeping away into the covers
slowly,
i ignore my responsibilities
thoughts and fears
dip a hand into the music
submerge my small body
into the vast ocean of sounds
and carefully, quietly
succumb to the psychedelic dreams
with the gentle waves of calming music
my only defense against them turning to nightmares.

we cant have an opinion
until someone with a bigger voice
better personality and dominant position in society
says something about it
which is why
instead of summaries, reviews of famous authors
newspapers and companies are printed on the covers of books
quotes stolen from filmmakers out of context
advertised in movie trailers
celebrities used as poster-people for ads
the people we look up to
are used as marketing tools
their words taking over ours
until we take them as fact

he takes my body
abuses it with purple
finger-shaped bruises

i never complain
no matter how hard he grips
i long for his touch

he doesn't get it
why i stay even though he
abuses my skin

i whisper to him,
it's because i need your love
no matter how harsh

im addicted to
the way you used to look at
me like i was there

i wish for the past
wish that i'd never gotten
hooked on your dark eyes

take out all of your
anger on me because it's
what i'm meant to do

i love you never
sounded so harsh on my lips
but i'll always love

you.

relapse into
pain,
sharp teeth and razor blades
armed with self-hatred and nothing more but
the intense need for
pain,
masochism overtaking common sense
punishing my body for things others say
silently begging for
pain,
an attention ***** and a ****
if you self-harm then you're just desperate
why not just **** yourself and save all that
pain,
nails clawing at pale backs
bent over porcelain toilets at 5am
casually vomiting the contents of half-filled stomachs
from the day before
obsessed with
pain,
i don't like pain
but it's what i deserve.

false ignorance paints my face
politely declining fate's open hand
knowingly descending into the world of hatred
of sin and lust and thievery
i smile and kiss the devil's cheek
intertwine our fingers together and
delicately, he leads me to my damnation

blank, glassy black eyes
reflect my horrendous sins
i indulge in pain

they told me to explain love
despite it being such an abstract feeling
filled with colors and shapes and passion
they told me to explain love
despite how complicated and intrinsic
yet simple and plain it is
they told me to explain love
even though there have been a million before me
dedicating books and songs and poems
to this emotion that plagues us

love isn't Hollywood easy
love isn't that warm burst of heat you feel in your chest,
the need for affection and ***
love isn't a miracle-magical cure
that will rid you of all your problems
love isn't a dream come true or the best thing that ever happens
finding love isn't the endgame

love is dedication,
that heat will fade from your chest over time,
and you will still have issues in life
love will come in the form of someone
who will become your best friend,
most trusted confident that might not always understand you
but will be there for you and work it out alongside you
love will be tough
there will be arguments and bumpy roads
clashing of viewpoints between people
it's natural to fight, but you must work it out
love isn't only you,
it's a balance between both people
learning about each other
and adapting to them
as they adapt to you
love won't always be the aesthetic dream
teenagers long for in their books and movies
no YA novel will show the harsh realities of what love looks like
no Hollywood movie will break through the fantasy-fake awkward kisses
to find love, you must know what to expect
find your match, but don't have unrealistic expectations
it won't always be bubblegum and cotton candy
but it will be beautiful.

its 4am and my
overly active imagination has caused my body to **** out of sleep once more
picturing scenes too vivid to be true

i see his face in my nightmares,
****** fingers stretching his skin like putty
molding it into another's
crimson dying pale white

i feel his hands,
gently pulling me apart
my skin bursts into two and my organs spill out of my stomach
gruesome and brutally nauseating

i hear screams,
piercing through the dark night
hollow eye sockets black and empty,
tortured girls with knives

i taste poison,
running down my throat
an aphrodisiac that made my body long for death
dehydrated, i thirst for more

i smell carnage,
carrion wafting through the air
as i stand in lie on a hospital bed
illuminated by a single light
dead bodies surrounding my still figure

i soon follow


i **** awake,
it's only a dream
but i can see the blood on my hands
smell the scent of rot
my throat burns,
and my stomach has scars
my ears ring with screams
and it doesn't feel like
"just a dream"

my
head is aching
my
throat is raw
my
eyes are listless
my
mouth is shut
my
heart is empty

is that enough to please you?

screams scraping their way
out of my abused throat
terrified; raw and primal
pale lines clawed across my cheeks
nails jagged and bitten down
hangnails pulled to reveal
red, vulnerable flesh
coughs wracking my sick form
head thrashing, gasping pants heaving slim chest
up and down, up and down

an image taunts my vision
a picture of two serene people,
so totally in love you can feel it from the photograph
clammy hands desperately reach for it
reach for you, the imaginary version
the one where my arms wont grab at air when reaching for a hug
where my hands wont curl into fists
at seeing you love everyone but me
where broken sobs dont echo through the empty bathroom
and bile doesnt get flushed down the toilet
where i am not so isgusting
where you do not despise me

you're not mine to keep
nor the one to blame
but still,
this love is driving me ******* insane.

he is the manifestation of spontaneous elegance
****** features changing fluidly; reassuringly
actions are performed unhesitatingly
his positive optimism is punctuated by
an ever-cheery smile, forming his eyes into crescents
kind and benevolent,
he seems to bless a room with a simple entrance
so when he desperately avoids my gaze,
i wish i had done something different
a beautiful songbird like him
hadn't deserved to be kept in a cage with me
i'm glad he's been set free
yet i selfishly seek him out
longing for the trills of the sweet song
that is my former lover.

twisted hearts
malnourished and desperate for love
find solace in each other
reaching out with longing
not for each other,
but for a semblance of affection
sick in their selfishness
quietly resenting themselves for their hunger
satisfy physical needs
build an illusion of emotions
convince themselves that their illusion is real
live this life of pretend
until you believe it is reality.

there's no optimism in life
raised expectations will only lead to fallen outcomes
life isn't a rollercoaster
life doesn't take you on a joyride
moving up and down through the good and bad
life is existentialism
adapting to gradually harder stages
barely making it through
suffering along the way
do what you enjoy and the industry destroys your ambition
at one point you realize you gave up on your dreams
think back on this poem
the world's most pessimistic poet.

my throat is on fire
clenching twisted words
withholding wicked truths
not meant to be revealed
burning silently in rage
will the blaze consume my voice
before it hurts another?

fluorescent light illuminates
makeup brushes and foundation
concealer and contour
she sits in front of the mirror,
diligently applying
a youtube tutorial playing in the background
her small hands shake
her cheeks have not yet lost their baby fat
she hates her chubbiness
in her youth, she envies the skinny
the pretty, the ones with the cool moms
who let them do whatever they want
thin faces and thick layers of wavy hair
arched eyebrows and immaculate eyeliner
she wants to be like an instagram model
with a hundred-watt smile and tan skin
she wants to be a perfect person
she pats on the blush
she eats less
she becomes a shadow of a person
she loses it all to be fake
isn't that a little too much
for a girl to handle?
not yet an adult
almost a teenager
they grow up too fast
to reach what they think is perfection
to attain the life they see in movies
in snapchat stories and romcom tv shows
"beauty is pain" but
they take it too far.

written pages of meaningless drabble
insignificant metaphors and
twisted backstage tension
unknowingly expectant
hoping for acknowledgement for
whispered cries for help
fantasy mixed with two drops of reality
can you find what is real?
don't worry, neither can i
within fraying leather backed journals
contain tear-stained pages and scrawled words
worthless in their naivety
wallowing in their misery
the best way to love is
to spill your heart into relentless pages
and burn the book