there were days she talked too much,
she
looked
so
good
when
she'd
just
be quiet.

Lazy lines never writes
she's afraid because of what she might.
Can't seem to find her way
so she's taking a                                                break
from searching.
She sways
in and out of feelings,                                                
from the middle        
she can see the edge                                       break
but doesn't lose her place.
He wanted to hold her
as she rambled away,
kiss her cheek in the moonlight
and play her music by day.

Walk barefoot on blacktops,
backward steps, tripped in flip flops.
He's the scar on her knee, the crackle pop in her spine.
She thought to make him                                                  baked
goods:
precious berries too sweet for wine.

She feels destruction in creation
so her thoughts become less productive
and finds resonance in mistakes.
Words like hot wind
and she's depressing.
Ignoring advice from others,
*******.
Break
                  break                                          
                                      break
she needs it
break
     break
break
she bears it

cheek bruised
from loves subtle encounters,
hands shaking from
works formal banters,
today's not what she expected it'd be:
something sweet in the stomach.
A smooth something to bring out the best,
bitter rest in her breast,
she wants to get a better look.

attention span crackling,
you're losing all your words.
can't remember what you said to me?
I feel like a tornado
and want to say hello through this storm.
talk to myself to find the answers.
there's no such answer in your eyes.
what do you see? something of a glare,
in my stare of such searching, cut my hair
give you my locks.
tell you I love you when it's too hard to breathe.
just want to get it over with.
something disintegrating into me.

I tried to write letters like I used to,
it seems that I've forgotten.
there's too much lost
that should be written.

keep me on the edge of the ledge,
lifting to the tips of my toes

shrinking mildly

just,
so
you
might
not see me
when
I
cry,
I guess we should just wait until the night
when you can't see a thing.

i have no thoughts: i ate them.
i have good friends
they let me live in their cupboards.
i want to leave but i'm stuck
i'm sick of grief but i'm flattered
and although they drink me sweet
it don't matter
i still want to be filled with loves laughter
yet i can't get the one that i'm after
because he's running so fast i can't see
and he knows that i'm blind so he moves ten feet
back and deep
points out things in the distance
too beautiful for me.

he's gonna move
he's gonna leave
he's.. invisible to me.

i got so shy i had to leave,
keep myself from being shattered
by love this steep.

consumption
play
consumption
sleep
in the moments between
I'm not sure if this is a dream or reality.
a greeting from someone I thought I'd lost
and my heart bounds forward.
you look different.

how could I forget such a face?
how could I lose it?

was mine too overlapping in anxiety to notice the kindness in yours?

time has given chances
I'm not sure how many of them were wasted in weakness.
decisions to move on, move out,
and then forward.

preferences denied by searching too much.
you're a production of neglect,
describing situations exactly as they are: no empathy.
saving sympathy for emotional descriptions:
you've got a lot on your plate and you don't like to waste
but you're breaking this whirlwind you so hastily chase.
just give me a break.
let this armor fall from my limbs
a barrier trimmed
from this eclipse of the mind
I find myself fading behind
because honesty of the self is harbored in boxes,
it's easy to get lost inside the caves of forgotten
when you're moving so often in the shadow-side.

your hands are golden
and as frail as dry leaves.
your collar bone sends me
into a  breath bend, so I follow
the traces of your fingers on my stomach
and the crooked fragments of your once broken bones.
you've got a nervous segment of thought,
I can feel as you attempt to shake it out,
**** thoughts, you send waves of telepathy and I'm molten.

your illusions are being built on ladders,
as thin as your legs, and my fingers.
you've captured a foot, slammed into the back of each knee
and you don't lose balance.
swallowing poison, tastes good.
happiness overwhelms your senses.
everything seems better when you're killing yourself.
brain screaming: this is it!
might as well do all the things you're afraid of.

commit to a struggle for strategy.
all lined up, dressed in slept-in jeans.
you're more tired than you'd dare to admit
because your weakness is fatal. too much of yourself
locked in that tower you climb so flawlessly.
slime walls and all.
you offer me the chance to climb, not something I'd grasp
until I lost my mind, slip down the side, fall behind, leave you with time
and come back to lay on the cement around your corners.

I bring you a flower, a simple response to my own thought.
a gesture of love, of friendship, forgiveness and fear.
I'd write you something beautiful if you deserved it.
in the holding back of words, I found that if I'm writing about you
then it doesn't mean it's for you.
I can't help who I love, just as I can't help what I fear.
call me a baby, but don't call me yours.
hold me when you want to, I wont miss you until I'm there.

let me become a little less of what sickens me.
let myself break through shadows and soak midnight moon
through my half darkened, thoroughly searching eyes.