porcelain skin chipping away,
thick and durable, but still decays;
eyes of class ricocheting, stars dying bright:
scratches seem to never fade,
the wound is deep,
but inner pattern stays.
lasts longer than the marble tile,
will ever a sock slip down these miles?

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He threw me against the wall
and swore he loved me,
and the only way
he could make sure I loved him too
was through bruises on my skin.
My heart was spilling,
but it was more blood than love:
more black and blue than pink.

Then I met someone else,
and he ran his fingers through my hair,
down my arm, over the curve of my hip,
he kissed my forehead,
and followed the path to my neck
where he whispered sweet nothings:
but he was gone with sun rise.

I remember his hands as bandages
after the fight -but they only cover so much.

And I remember his cigarette breath
-I hate cigarettes, but I wanted to smoke him so bad,
and when he was gone I felt like I had been addicted all along.

The bandages are gone,
it no longer smells like cigarettes,
and I'm no longer left with bruises
-so why do I feel so lost?
Isn't this what I want?

Is care synonymous to hurt?

Why do all who claim to care
leave me with marks to bear?

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The perfect world exists within my head,
and it has become my own personal hell.

To be so close, yet so far away
from the only thing you want,
I can see it, I can feel it, I can hear it,
but I can't grab it.

My refuge has become the cause of my tears;
the only thing that makes me happy makes my cry,
my daydreams have become my own personal hell,
my utopia is killing me.

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every boy that has ever ran his fingers on my skin
crawled up from under my bed and invaded the darkness;
he pulled the blanket up over my shaking body,
and brushed his fingers through my tangled hair.

a creature of the night providing me comfort;
he laid his head on the empty side of my pillow
whispering into my hollow head,
signals which would flow through my dry veins
and start the pumping of a disintegrating heart.

his demons kept him awake at night
just as the monsters of my past have me;
his eyes were like a flashlight in the dark room,
this creature was my savior.

but morning comes and he is gone,
my troubles glisten in the sun -everyone runs.
you can't fix by morning what haunts you;
I only date monsters -they keep me company at night;
when my flaws come spilling out but not in bright light.

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Too Much and Not Enough.
I'm the forgotten flower beneath the blanket of snow;
So beautiful in the Summer, but crushed by Winter;
there is such thing as too much.

Water ,the fuel I need,
but too much submerges me,
freezes and restrains me.
I'm wilting.
Too much at once,
and suddenly nothing.
Too much, but not enough;
timing is everything.

Days without rain
and I crumble;
rainy days deluge;
and I let it roll over me.

When Summer rolls around,
will you be there to water me;
or has the Winter left me for dead?
Or will I sprout in the *** of another?

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I wish I knew the difference between
holding hands and holding on,
before I was hanging over the cliff
of stability and emotion.

The spaces between your fingers
were my safety; they fit so perfectly;
but your fingers fell away like rocks
tumbling quickly into the roaring waters
of someone else’s passion.

My grip so tight on something unstable;
I once compared the feeling of being in your arms
to the wonders of the Earth around me,
but now you’re like gravity,
pulling me down into crashing waves.


My heart breaking apart like eroded rocks
on the surface of the beach;
admiration burning hot like the sun
and breezing over as it sets.

I’m shivering in the arms of the wind,
and holding on to the hands of crumbling rocks;
I wish I knew the difference between holding on and holding hands.

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there's evidence swimming through my veins
signals sent from the brain -he said he loves you
my heart is saying let go, it's just a game
but my brain is saying, then, just play.

words spilled from the mouth like dominoes
knocking down every wall I've built up;
my pores absorbing every silent message
from your touch -silent, but loud.

your eyes screamed with desire
and my lifeless body lusted for care,
your welcoming smile
was just a silent laugh.

if you never said a word,
I wouldn't be the pawn of a losing game,
I wouldn't be filled with empty words.

if you never said a word.

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