Break my bones;
cut my throat.
Pull me open,
learn the ropes.

Breath me in;
taste the fear.
Shank my skin;
stand and cheer.

Kick my head;
let me bleed.
Unbolt my veins;
enjoy the read.

Gouge my eyes;
punch my face.
Wrap me up
in your embrace.

sometimes
i wish you were the poet
because sometimes
i just want to be the poem

do you have moments, where you can’t imagine a future?
you’re lying there, staring at the
same walls
same ceilings
same words
with nothing but the same feelings-
empty and pale,
like there’s no reason to go on,
when you can’t even do enough to fail.
the future is coming, but you don’t want to be in it,
can’t imagine yourself in it.
where you just want to stop.
everything.
and just sit there for a while.
maybe not death, as that’s too permanent,
but something close to it.
when you can feel the rope around your neck,
the razor on your wrist,
the way the pills taste.
you can imagine it, and you aren’t sure if it’s what you want,
or just the feelings you imagine it will give you

i imagine the only time
these fingertips have nothing left to say,
is when a heartbeat no longer carries them .

no..
not even then .

maybe,
        'maybe' is the easiest word to say
        cause we never have to commit on something

maybe,
        'maybe' is the safest state to stay
        cause we always know when to leave

but maybe,
        maybe it is entirely different
        on the receiving end

Chaos;
not just outside,
but inside too.

Words;
spoke too much,
understood a few.

Destroy;
the walls around,
and open the shell.

Speak;
Not just for you,
but for others as well.

I have these imperfections
That I try to cover up
But recently I’ve ditched the concealers
For a more natural and tired look
And to my surprise
I have never been called beautiful
More times in my life
The warming of my heart
Stemming from the compliments
Adds a glow to my cheeks
That not even the most expensive of highlighters could provide
The wide smile across my lips
Creates a perfect shade of lipstick
That you wouldn’t find at the Mac store
The sincerity heard from strangers
Creates a sparkle in my eyes
Hence eyeshadow is no longer needed
People point out the allure
Where I myself see flaws
And instead of unattractive
I have never felt more beautiful

I may
be soft
but at least
I’m not
afraid
of my own
skin.