I sketched a faceless man today
I put more details in his hands than I ever could in his eyes

I drew a faceless woman today
forward facing
I put more details on the muscles of her back
than I ever could her nose

I painted a faceless child today
I put more details on his body
than I ever could his lips

I painted faceless beings today
all hollowed out alone
my art teacher looked at me like i was a little disturbed
I could not explain to him that the hollow of her cheekbone
will have more meaning
than the color of her eyes
or the voluptuousness of her lips
and that the strain in her shoulders
will show
and that man will have more meaning in the creases
of his palms
than I could ever put on the lines of his face
And all I could think of was
How that faceless woman had a **** good
***

I lack a certain meaning
something in my eyes doesnt shine as bright when people look at me it makes them want to look past me and I hate how average things can be and how I lack that certain "Oomph"
When all I really want is someone to say "Its alright darling the stars were made the same way as you, theyre just sometimes too bright to look at, too beautiful. Like staring at the sun too long."
And I am happy and content and excited and now I am crying at this computer screen.

I have lost memories and things are a darker shade of gray than they were before,
and it smells of ****,
this life im living.
But there's this nagging feeling like
"You're way too young to feel this way"
and I like to pretend it isn't some gay drake song
This ******* useless head, that detached side on the left that tells me to be quiet when I cry too loud,
or to let it the **** out,
inbuilt therapy.
Yeah.
I only hope that my language carries out to your ears and you pluck my words from your brain like that certain hair you didn't like growing on the inside of your nose and outside of your ear and you should listen dear
listen and hear.

My dreams are laughable because I am only seventeen
and realize I am a cliche and that protective screen
I had been
wearing when I really thought I hadn't, well its gone now.
So my dad was right about how many things I don't know about the world,
"The world is full of awful awful things"
and I thought I understood him then, well now I do.
Now I do.
There is a harsher kind of light that shines on the things I see,
some sort of UV process, reflected back at me, and It makes me sick, and nauseous and heavy.
I carry my cynicism like I carry myself, like its a stranger I'm supposed to know
But the best things can be carried off, If you really don't know
what you're talking about.

I think I am special because my **** doesn't smell as bad as everyone else's.

I realise why I'm drawn to alcoholics
after you, because you taste like one;
heat-filled,numbing passion.
Because you are certain of your drug
of choice
and can hold your liquor
So that means you can hold me
our hands only shake when we're sober
so lets stay drunk all the ******* tIme
and fight off these ghosts in beer bottles
ode to Jack Daniels for leading us to
true love
because there really must be a god
if something as sweet as this
could exist

Until the morning when we wake up
still slightly
drunk
staggering, stuttering
dark eyes and muttering
apologies for what happened
"last night"
but were not sorry because well do it again
just bring the whiskey
Ill bring a pen

So I realize you're as smooth as the poison you drink
and as sharp as the blade
i use to inflict
these toxins of waste in my breath
on my skin
but we'll do it again
yeah we'll do it again

We learned about a boy in class
In 1st grade, some god granted him wings
But he flew too close to the sun
and died and drowned a terrible death

I meet this boy a few years later
I tell him about my death-wish
Thats at the bottom of my bucket list
And he tosses them all away

He says his wings have been clipped
and that he still thinks hes drowning
in a sea of vast emptiness
And the only burn signs on him
are his eyes
like dying embers that I cant save


he kissed me with abandon
threw water into my heart
it was dried out and torn
you see
his eyes they burned their way down my throat
igniting a light
as he leaves

And I think about that boy
Icarus I believe his name
He flew too close to the burning flame
Like a moth to a light
and singed his broken wings

but they forgot out the part
where the sun melts his wax heart
and he drowns in the deep dark
blue

And I forgot to tell you about the ending
about the salt water in my lungs
that I lurch back profusely
I realize its just the second skin of a little lost zombie boy
This isn't CPR
this is choking on his dead weight passion
drowning on his blue eyed sorrow

Like he choked on the sea.

I wake up heavy
Try to shake off dreams that make me
sweaty
I wake up tired
Before the headaches start
I wake up dull
Like my skull is too small for my brain
and the pressure
is slowly killing me
theres this pit in my stomach
and thats why I cant sleep
The sound of my heartbeat has kept me up for
weeks
and If I could just have one night where
I wont wake up
every
hour Ill
be fine I promise
If I could just have one more night where I dont ache
from the memories
of a home so long ago
because we all know
You don't go home twice
You cant go home twice
So Ill find a sanctuary inside my brain
somewhere warm and nice
where these sleepless dreams reside
and Ill figure out how to breathe
and block the sound of my heartbeat
out
So I wont have to wake up
with a lump in my throat
and aching
that ache
for home
for *home

The ground has grown weary
Of bearing my tattered corpse
And I've been dragged along this cold pavement
So long
I forget how it is to feel the relief in my joints
when I get up
Because I've been down for so long
I'm afraid of even raising my head
to see if there's a glimmer
of hope
or ray
of sunshine for me
Because if there is
this flat paper heart
just might find it in itself
to try and move these broken limbs
and hold on to something steady
So I can raise my self up
but my kneecaps have been skinned to the bone
From the pressure of crawling
for way to ******* long
And these hands
are on the verge of snapping and falling off
So don't give me
any
false
hope

I watch a sunrise behind an old abandoned church in my home-town
I haven't slept for two nights
the crystal clear beauty of the sleep-deprived
the jaw aching beauty of the pink sky
almost hurts my eyes
the irony I see reflected back at me
how such a daring light could hide behind
a cowardly institution
My thoughts are crisp and clear
after two nights of no sleep
and I cant describe
I cannot describe what I see
But its there behind my eyelids
when I close them shut
I am dreaming of tomorrow
But tomorrow never comes.
I am closer to god when I am sleepless
Though I'm not sure I believe in god when I am awake
like all things are during suffering
and the sky is just a canvas
for me to whisper my thoughts to
I paint his hands in the shape of clouds
under this red sky at morning
They hold nothing
and nothing holds them
heavy hands and my heavy eyelids
both closed
open
wide
shut
he holds me in his hands
he holds the promise of tomorrow
I tell him tomorrow is a lie.