with every inhale
comes the unbearable realization that
while you are not,
i am still here.

my ribs crack with
every shift of my body

my chest is bound with no hope for freedom.

i see more than you ever could.
with every exhale you gave
came a burst of flowers and life.

everything you touched was whole and good
and everywhere i look there is only death

i bring nothing good into this world
and yet somehow you made it okay.

you were honey and earth
you were yellow and fish and smiles.
you were everything.

were.


granted,
youre not dead.

you just decided to
join in on the hurt.

you ****** me
with a knife sharper than
anything id ever experienced before.

maybe it hurt more because it was you.

every moan that escaped me
turned into a scream
for you

every time you told me you loved me
suddenly turned into hatred.

i pretend that it is okay
and we can still be friends

yet every time you exhale
i am suddenly met with the stench of death.

everything you touch crumbles
and all that surrounds you is red

you are hatred and pain
anything that hurts
you have and hold dear.


i guess that makes me a *******

she showed up at my doorstep last night.
crying.

granted, she was higher than a kite and
only wanted to give me money.

but then she told me he wasnt doing too well.

and that he missed me.

and that she was "hurt"by my actions.

and everything
came
crashing
down

Red and black sludge flows
From his mouth

He tries to scream but it
Comes out as a gargled wail

Roses bloom on his fingertips
As the thorns tear his palms
To shreds

He is dying in a way that
Can only be described
As living

Tears flow down their cheeks
As they reach for help
From anyone

Someone

Please


The mess I have been thrown into
Is impossible to escape

A train wreck of burning garbage
a bed of nails that i have been
carelessly thrown onto
And everything else that hurts

And no one thought
To tell me
That my grandpa
Was dying

and not one person
thought to tell me
that my grandpa
is dying.

I wonder how things will pan out
will i live where i plan to live?
see who i plan to see?


will i ever be the person that i plan to be
or am i stuck this way forever?

It feels like a [monster? slime? creature?]
T H I N G
just clawing away at me.
It overwhelms, and screams, and rips and shreds at my insides,
begging me to take away the parts that aren’t me
that somehow managed to stick on my body anyways.
Body?
Corpse?
Husk.
Shell.
I am stuck in a shell
that i am not supposed to be in,
and i cannot get out no matter how much i  try
to
kick and
flail,
escape attempts are futile until i turn 18.
Hormones are raging at the wrong levels,
and my voice is not my own.
My body does not look how it is supposed to,
like someone has put the head of a ken doll on a barbie’s body.
I am a massacred mr(?) potato head
with mrs. potato head's body parts
shoved in all the wrong places.
It is so painful
to sit in the shower
and cry over the body that is not mine.
And you still believe
that I am your
little “girl”?

A long inhale, and nicotine
brings me the numb that I
so desperately need.

Sometimes, I have to
feel my own heartbeat, just to
remind myself that I am alive.

I often have to think about breathing
so that I remember to
keep myself going.

If not for me, the most
definitely for him.

Even though I am a vile creature
full of hatred and self loathing
I could never bring myself to hurt you.