~Look, I'm sorry I told you that you are ugly.
Sometimes I just can't believe what I see.
We can be friends, maybe.
I'll tell you how beautiful you are.
Because you are me.
Sometimes I hate you,
Sometimes I don't understand you.
But one thing we can both agree,
Is that I don't mean those things.
And I'm so, so sorry...
....
....
....
that you had to be me. </3~

the voices were too LOUD
they overtook my mind
they overtook my attention
they overtook all of me
I could not hear
I could not see
I could not be me anymore

When sleep finally came
I had to fight the demons
I had to try and chase them from my mind
But there were more than just I could handle
More than I could take
I tried to run but they were FASTER
I couldn't do anything
They just came closer

I woke up in the middle of the night
thinking it was a reprieve from it all
but the voices were back
but different
Voices of long ago friends
Long ago loves
reminding me that I am UNLOVEABLE
Telling me that no matter hard I try
I will never win
Everytime they take a breath
I think they are done
But the just keep returning

Morning comes
finally
unexpectedly
No sleep was had
not rest was achieved
More fighting and struggling was had
than that which occurs in the day

So that's why I didn't answer your' call
I'm sorry

The                         a       i              r              .                     .                           .


                             CHOKING

Sticking
                                     To my lungs like

                          chewed gum                 .                   .                 .

     How do people live like this?
                                                  D R O  W  N   I    N     G

    Without a word to speak.               .              .

It's getting worse      .                .               .

                                        I'M OUT OF CONTROL.

GET A GRIP!
                               Get A Grip!
                                                     get a grip .             .                      .

Strained    .                   .                     .
                  Giving
                                  up  ­      .               .                   .

                                                         *gone            .                  .                    .

in ten thousand ways
i watch flames up ahead
swaying on ivory stilts
we sit in silence.
the color here is gold
ice at first, then the sun
we look skyward as far
as we can reach.
you're in the corner of
my eye, i need to
focus, jumbled music
are words we used to say.
sour turned sweet
somehow
peace to seep in open sun
morning windows
this is freedom.