She's like a field of wildflowers, beautiful, untamed
When the winter comes, I still will love her just the same
Beneath the veil of snow, I know she still remains
Waiting patiently, to be washed clean by spring rains

She's something like the sun, rays of warmth and love are beeming
I'm more like the moon, its hard to shine when I'm not feeding
Off of the light extending out, when it hits I have no doubt
I could live this life alone, but will not live this life without,
My wildflower

the pine needles brush against my
skin too big for these bones.
what is it like to feel comfortable,
why do i feel anything but normal always?
i want to feel as if i'm the top of these
trees, something bigger than myself.
i flick my cigarette like it's a habit i cannot break to reassure i'm still alive.
the smoke rises higher and higher, but
not high enough to be noticed.
i want to be seen behind closed curtains,
am i really even there?
for that i lay and rest these weary eyes
until i'm nothing,
just another plane lost on radar buried
underneath a thick snowy blanket.

remember me not, but don't forget me.

sincerely yours,

you can only run for so long
until you find that no matter
how far you get, the demon
that haunts you will always
be sewn to you like your shadow.
i need a piece of hope,
something, just something reassuring me
i'm not as crazy as i think.
maybe the wind has been
whispering to me this whole time.
i am just a leaf that has fallen,
but i promise as always
i will he back in time for spring.
until then i will become comfortable
with disappearing for the winter,
and who knows, maybe when the snow melts and the eerie chills of this brisk season are exiled, i will return as something more beautiful than any other leaf...

because that leaf will be me.

she resembled a graveyard
her body cemetaries
her eyes six feet too deep.
she claims she's not dead.
she mutters whispers barely audible
"i am not the corpse,
i am not the water that will drown you,
i am the noose tied too tight,
i am the trigger that is pulled,
the bottle of pills swallowed, the overdose.
she acts as if it's something to be proud of
something to be admired.
my hands too cold to be felt,
she is the thought that always crosses
the mind of a sad boy.
i am simply a skeleton with skin too big
for these weary bones.
i am the coffin and nothing more
than the dirt used to bury it.
the hourglass is coming to it's final stretch.
is this what it feels like to be alive?

it's impossible to be alive when you're already

                         dead.

it's no surprise
that my once tiny waist
filled up too much empty space
and air to breathe
would scarcely be
enough for me
to fall asleep
but now that it's over
I guess i'm never really sober
you told me wasted space
can never be replaced
I guess i proved you wrong

sorry for smelling like
cigarette smoke and staring
at you all the time and
never being able to smile.
sorry i'm always sad and
for having a shaky voice
when you tell me beautiful words
that weren't made for
someone like me.

When I think of the ocean,
I think of the word "drown".
When I hear the word plane,
I see "crash".
When I'm on rooftops,
I feel, "fall".
When I see sharp things,
I hear, "stab".

Birds might peck me.
Cars might hit me down the road.
Metals can conduct electricity.
Words can betray people.
Actions will ****.

Dark corners reminded me
Of shadows and demons
That I keep;
My closet holds more
Skeletons than I could count;
I can't help thinking
We are going to end.
So when you keep saying you love me,
All I'm really hearing was "destroy".

i'm following a script of what to do
what to say, how to think, how to not think
because you tell me to
but i'm burning pages and setting fire
to all that I had felt before

but see
my lips are a little chapped
and my eyes are bloodshot
my mouth is a little dry
and there's blood running down my nose
i'm flipping pages
i can barely breathe

like always
the ink is bleeding
literally bleeding red
and scribbles turn into cuts
i open my eyes
but all i can see
are crushed up pills
in the Rx bottle I used to be