You are far more complicated
and immense
and incalculable
and larger than that.

You are a montage of stardust
of good days and bad days
of exploding galaxies
and rebirth of universes.

You, demigod.
You own your wonders
and curiosity
your flaws
and hesitations
your fears
and secret hopes
your narratives
and truthfulness.

Let no one
take those
away from you.

Forgive me, dearest.

I accidentally
injured my hand a while
this evening.

The metal of the vehicle
pecked on my index finger
took out a skin
and marked me

as its own.

It culled a deep void
you would hate, I know
you would curse, I know
because it is ugly
and you would hate it.

Still,
you would hold my hand anyway
and sing me some lullaby
till I fall asleep

And forget where it hurts.

marie-niege is jaso bolay
i am an empty pill bottle
of nothing more than
just emotions, a stack of
empty liquor bottles. i
am nothing. just nothing.
isn't that classy? but um
you see, marie-niege is
cleaner than me. more
sterile. less edgy. but
sicker in the head.
we're never just
one person.
welcome. to the
madness in my head.

Dear Dad,
When I was younger and I wrote you that letter explaining to you how much I hated myself sometimes.

When I wrote you that letter explaining to you how much I hated my skin

How much I hated my thoughts

How I lost all of my friends in the span of a month because I stopped trying to care

How much I just wanted to disappear

How much you'd be better off without me

How much it hurt all the time

When I showed you all of my poems

And you called my black tears on those ******* white papers 'talent' and ignored my cries

When you insisted that I was okay when I tried to explain to you that I wasn't

Did you really believe that I would be okay or did you just need me to be?

I'm not mad anymore. I just want you hug me and tell me you love me and just stop ******* hating me

I <3 makeup. I like playing around w. pinks and reds and browns. Matte lipstick and lip stains etc etc. Which is funny cause I didn't start wearing makeup until I was 20, just about a year ago. I hated the idea of it. But now I realize that I hated the idea of it because of the mental state I was in. Wearing makeup shouldn't lessen your confidence in your natural appearance. For some reason, I was afraid that I'd become more comfortable seeing myself in makeup versa ****. But that's not the case at all. One of my favorite things to do at the end of my day is to remove my makeup off my face. Warm salt water and then a mixture of honey, egg whites, organic milk thickened in the fridge & then lathered on my face for an hour and then cleansed with cold salt water. It's heaven.
Idk. I've just been laughing at how my mind worked when I was younger. I was so terrified of learning more about myself. Almost like I didn't want to get to know who I was. Almost like I didn't care. I didn't want to form my own opinions and so I clutched onto others opinions. I didn't want to accept my definition of beauty and so I devoured others guidelines. And I didn't want responsibility and so I refused all forms of commitments. What a horrible way to live. For those of you who've been wondering where I've been lately. I've been reflecting, accepting and understanding myself because I've come to understand that's the only way I'll keep existing in this world.  
Idk. I've just been laughing at how my mind worked when I was younger. I was so terrified of learning more about myself. Almost like I didn't want to get to know who I was. Almost like I didn't care. I didn't want to form my own opinions and so I clutched onto others opinions. I didn't want to accept my definition of beauty and so I devoured others guidelines. And I didn't want responsibility and so I refused all forms of commitments. What a horrible way to live. For those of you who've been wondering where I've been lately. I've been reflecting, accepting and understanding myself because I've come to understand that's the only way I'll keep existing in this world.

Beneath the
feverish rippling
of an
enlightened moon;
A promiscuous
blackout of
dark words
streaming,
soul to soul."
|| shoo.shu ||

Stick a fork in me and tell me I'm done.
Tell me my only purpose now is to be
carved open and served on fine china,
Tell me now is my time.
They plan to eat me alive.
I can already feel them
gnawing on my bones like toothpicks
after the first course,
and washing down their disgust
with my blood, still warm,
like sun tea sitting in the window
on a hot August day,
except maybe a little thicker
in consistency and a little more
bitter in taste.
Old soul, flesh and blood
doesn't stay fresh long, eat me.
Smile and nod at dinner table conversation
as you choke down every headache,
every bad decision I've ever made.
Things like that call for a little extra meat tenderizer, don't they?
Spending hours making me more appealing to the pallet
only to make me look like roadkill.
Sunken in, glazed over highway eyes,
always staring straight ahead,
never to change.
Served on a sliver platter with a puddle of blood under me,
make sure to serve bread to sop up all the mistakes, imperfections, monotony.

We get along with each other so well in all our clothes
Why **** this thing up by taking them off?