if you are leaving
stay gone

Love is..
Unpredictable.
Unsalvageable ..
Undeniably unbearable without you..
Fear of being rejected,
Doesn't allow me to have you.
It is like being,
Trapped in an eternal,
Thunderstorm of disdain.
Rusting,
Like drowning metal.
Bleeding liquid pain,
As I watch you,
Not see me
Not know me,
Never need me
And it kills me...

This depression,
Runs in my blood stream.
Blood curls,
And I scream.
Sometimes,
Tears are the best sedative
And sleep the best liquor.
Because I can,
Only have you in my dreams.

Its seems
Every dying minute I spend awake,
The reality is much harder to take.
Your absence is absence.

It makes me so cold that,
Breathing threatens to,
Shatter my lungs.
So I hold my breath...
Hoping,
Praying,
Wishing
That someday,
You would finally see me.
Or else I would suffer for eternity,
Willingly..
Hemorrhaging internally.

Life is lonely.
Love is merciless.
And I am a victim
Of this ruthless,
Torturous,
Chaotic emotion.

flower petals are falling from my eyes
they pool around my feet
and
ice cream drips from my fingertips
it pools around my feet
and
waves crash all around me
they pool around my feet
and
i think i'm drowning

Rule 1:

This is depression, not an alien invasion.

Rule 2:

These are disorders, not disabilities.

Rule 3:

These are hallucinations, not possessions.

Rule 4:

This is love, not confrontation.

Rule 5:

This is sadness, and sometimes aggravation.

I usually count
as i go along,
slicing.
I didn't last night
and awoke to a ****** shirt sleeve;
sixteen cuts.

I always cut
in multiples of four.

Subconscious needing
brings into being
streams
of aqueous despondency;
never gone,
never out of reach.

I'm sitting on the edge,
the ultimate precipice
of things that cannot be undone.

I am tarnished,
scarred and bruised
with life's effigies burning
all around me.

Waging war on myself,
my demons,
carving them out of my skin
to reign there
no more.

There's a split in my reality;
twenty months free of chemicals
yet
I still catch myself
along serrated edges.

I usually count
the ditches
in my arm;
worn as badges,
trophies of shame.

Twenty now lie,
lined up,
as a platoon for battle;
purple and healing.

Winning the war,
I let them fade
until new enemies
come to rush my gates
once again.