i'm just trying to forget you.

i guess that i'll just
sit here and wait for you to
******* notice me.

you reopened old
wounds, both literally and
figuratively.

do vegetarians give blow jobs, or...?

my scars tell a different story.

i thought you loved me, too.

types of boys:
avid gamer and psychology major,
sees right through your façade,
knows all of your insecurities,
and proceeds to take advantage of them
with mind games;
giving you the affection you so desperately crave,
and filling your head with promises and lies,
knowing that you'll be unable to resist
his ***** blonde hair
or his greenish blue eyes.
and he's right,
no matter what he does,
you'll always come back.
he really thought this one through.

my stomach growls. i'd
love to feed it. then again,
i'd love to be thin.

psychologist said, "life isn't for everyone."

types of boys:
wannabe bad boy,
born on the right side of the tracks,
but into the wrong home.
arms littered with cigarette burns,
and cuts that he claims are from ***** ***.
band t-shirts, piercings,
studded belts, ripped jeans,
and lots of hair gel.
takes the long way home from school each day
just to be alone.

they say time heals all
wounds, but the secret is lots
of cocoa butter.

work in progress: come back later

i'm not a poet,
i'm just inspired to write at
three in the morning.

i'm not a poet,
just someone who's tired of not
having their voice heard.

i'm not a poet,
just a girl who likes to write
useless one-liners.

insomnia strikes,
she denies me my escape
from reality.

i go to bed with you,
knowing full well that i will
wake up all alone.

you are beautiful,
and worth more than you ever
could have imagined.

hold me close, tell me
you love me, even if you
don't really mean it.

do you really think
that i'm pretty, or are you
just pitying me?

"just wait, it'll be
alright." i'm struggling just to
make it through the night.

memories of you
hang above my head, do you
ever think of me?

her spirit's broken,
scarred, and sore. she's too damaged
to care any more.