I thought my catharsis was death,
slowly falling into a hole of darkness
rotting against soil
that would bring life again,
giving up eternity to be happy
for one single second
I thought death would bring me closer
to peace.
Six feet under sounded like
an inevitable place
found too early by my fate
of unhappiness within
tired eyes and cracking bones
it was too late to turn back
from the future I was building myself
with glass and dirt.
I thought relief would come
right after the pain
left my body,
singing songs of who I used to be
but destroyed in order to be whole again,
memories of what could have been
but became impossible when I chose
to look for release
in a damaging
damning place.
Instead,
I found catharsis
in killing who I was at the time
and becoming someone new,
painting a picture of rebirth
and taking it out on the page
instead of my skin,
looking beyond an inevitable demise
and seeing light.
I found catharsis
within myself,
begging to be created new
in the image of someone
that was happy
and believed it.

Your love was like a car crash
my entire body numb
to the moment
impact inevitable in the face
of what we were,
all twisted metal
and twisted arms
each part holding the other tight
as the world collapsed around us.
We were just teens
driving at eighty three
reckless in the name of freedom
moments passed like bullets
on the battle ground
we didn’t know was coming,
it was all broken phones
against yelling
and no way to understand hearts swelling,
crying eyes against night skies
and two wrecked cars in between us.
This love broke me
lying in the backseat
waiting for us to get home,
trying to apologize
with blood stuck in my throat,
and expectations that never made it
left totaled against each other
in the dark.

I sit on the floor
of my newly carpeted room
searching for answers
in the white crackled ceiling
and find nothing
but imaginary shapes of hope
in the bumps that preside in it.
There is no meaning to this,
broken hearts laying down
final words as they rest easy,
hardly trying to find love again
in the things they lost,
criticizing every act of affection
and disowning the thought of recovery.
I imagine the sky
changing past the roof above where my eyes meet
the ceiling
while I sit here decaying with the thought
that no one will ever love me
like I want them to
and no one will ever want me
if I don’t even want myself,
how do I get through a life
where there is no affection to be found?
I sink into the carpet,
eyes red against plush blue
wondering if I’ll ever accept
that some people aren’t meant to be loved
and maybe I am one of them.

I look at you
eyes red with regret
and longing for the someone
that didn’t love you like you wanted.
You shift under the world you are holding
with your shaking hands
as you begin to fold under the pressure
you weren’t meant to endure.
I see you lock the doors to your heart
pushing everyone away
like you are TNT
that is waiting to explode.
Satisfaction loses meaning
when all you wanted
was never allowed
and you still taste
what could have been
but wasn’t.
These days you find nothing
in a world that is trying to save you,
you chop away open arms
like branches from your favorite trees
and you lose yourself in loneliness
and self prescribed misery.
You stopped seeing beauty
and I am trying to understand how
I could make you love yourself again
even though he couldn’t.
When I look at you
the glass in my bones shifts
and open new wounds
because you hurting is synonymous
with me drowning
in all the ways I wish I could save you.
So I just sit here
hoping you make it
through ground shattering pain
like I did,
but I cannot tell the future
and all I can do is wait.

Where were you
when my heart was threatening
to beat itself out of my chest,
my soul was on fire
with the sparks of a generation
of hurt and pain
and you where sleeping
on a half broken couch
no care about the world
that was falling apart at my fingertips.
I was alone in the moment,
fireworks exploding under my feet
keeping me in a prison
of my own making
understanding that I would never try to run
from something so pretty.
I was lost,
and you never found me
buried underneath blankets
that strangled me in the night
layered on top of my aching body
so maybe I would feel the pressure
of someone else again.
You were never there
when I was dying for something,
last breaths clinging to my teeth
exhaling with every word
you never had the time to hear,
I left with nothing on my back
except regrets clinging to the
knives you put there.

Maybe I was too much thinking
and not enough time
always trying to stay in the lines.
I was too much space,
but not enough stars
barely enough room
to keep my heart.
I was too many hangnails,
falling over guard rails
nothing there to stop my fall.
I was too many truths,
not enough dares,
who even cares
about a girl so scared.
Too many some days
not enough nows
hitting the branches
on my way down.
I've seen too many fallen
to be happy with my life,
I've seen not enough days
and too many nights.

You told me you loved me
with honey dripping from your lips
and blood fell from my fingertips
as I ran back to you
guilt in my face
when they asked me why I stayed
I thought your flickering eyes
meant change
but all I got were bruises
behind my pumping veins
and a type of love
that was never meant to be real.
I only found broken lightbulbs
behind my dimming pupils
and aching bones
holding myself up.
Every day was a mistake,
bending backwards just to say
draining prayers for something more
and hoping God
would walk through the door
and save me.
It was all a lie,
feebly accepting that maybe
I was going to die unhappy
and alone
with someone who said they loved me
but only knew love as
****** knuckles
and never ending pain.