I won't say you broke my heart because I never had one to begin with
but you ripped me apart,
limb by limb

Actually,
I would prefer that tearing and snapping
to what what was real

It's a book ripped in two at the spine
so I don't know how to read it
I try to put the pieces together
But they will always be in two
I have tried everything, from tape to glue
All I ever make is a sticky mess
and uncovered seems
So I guess I'll just read them separately
but the prologue and epilogue will never go together.

Everything and nothing all at once
The floor supports this paper
The paper supports this pen
This pen supports my hand
My hand supports my thoughts

The floor supports everything
It catches us when we fall
We should love the floor without fear
Even though it's hard... it doesn't mean to be, I swear
We should understand that
the floor will always be there
If we fall through, there will be another ground

Even if it is far away
and if our breath is caught with the fall
we were still supported, just a little too late
The ground just wanted to be there
and it was.

We take it for granted
It doesn't mean to hurt us
It's always there.

The floor and I play the trust game.

All I have left are
could have beens
and
what ifs
I wish I was still a zombie

I assume I'm just in appreciation
of the walkmen making their journey
from my home to the heart of Louisiana
or somewhere.

I am an onyx bird of unusual beauty
with a vision of being ceaseless.

I'm the dark horse without a fan club,
shining bright black.

If I'm feeling it now
Much at all
If I've felt it before
If I've felt it at all
If I will feel it soon
If I will see that bittersweet moon
If I will die alone and
If it is shown that
I don't know anything on my own.

Thinking about the meaning behind things and how people hear them differently, like how ppl hear them differently, like how people heere them differently, like how people hear dem differently, like how people hear them diffrinly.

and see them a little more unclearly, like yesterdays crystal-future-seeing-glass orbs

and thinking about teammates and how they work together, but think alone, and there's nothing there in the air or to wear and tear at together anyway

and thinking about teammates and their roles and their lines and their act and their heights and how all of these futures are lonely

thinking about strengths all tacked up on a bulletin board of connect-the-dots exercises

thinking about connect-the-dots stories and who is listening

He told me, "Pretty girls don't light their own cigarettes."

He hands me his lighter now.

We're a tragic
kind of magic.

I pull my shoulder blades together
and stick out my chest
as I lengthen my arms to spread my wings
and I look up to the sky
as I wear a bullseye
on my back
and I can't see you from behind
but I sense that you're there
and as I inhale the sky
I see my fellows fly
forming a "V"
and I want to take off
and fly behind, on the side
that's shorter than the other
and yes, I know that you're still behind
I haven't forgotten
You with your crossbow
aiming an arrow
squinting with one eye
at the bullseye on my back
and me, I'll squint with both eyes
My left squinting at the sun in the sky
My right squinting in fear of what's behind
and as I anticipate your arrow skewering
the soft spot between my wings
My right eye is surprised
at the hail that gets dumped on my face.

Ain't got no one,
and I could tell you
that I don't need anyone,

but I'd be lying.

Puddle of blood on the floor
I'm sure it's the perfect size for you to splash and play in
Sorry for the mess;
I just hope you remembered to bring galoshes

I've been planted awake
with my eyes locked,
awaiting the moment
when my memories revolutionize
into a fantasy.

"I'm not a ******* villain," he said as he walked down those lonely staircases and out the door
I wasn't a lover,
I was a victim

A serial killer with an appetite for hearts
holding captive his next hostage,
ready to chew her heart and spit it out

and that negative sign never disappears.
It's forever tugging down my spine,
drilling me beneath the pavement.

and I'll hold my neck up straight and tall,
but my vertebrae only stretch so far.
Free me from my haunting enslavement.

Make room between the gaps.

The monotonous sky tells my story
as rain rolls down my cheeks
in a silent car ride
(my screaming thoughts escaped out the window
with a dying wheezing sound)

Shivers have never been more comforting
on my already cold skin,
as the wind tangled my hair with
a pushing of a heavy glass door

The barista was far too happy,
I'm sure his paycheck doesn't allow him
to embrace his loneliness
and I ordered a coffee on the rocks
in a storm by the sea
with my arms crossed and knuckles clenched
against my sweater,
because the cold feels so familiar

as I wait for you to show up at this coffee shop,
I already know that you won't

Nothing quite like the night
when the sun is so bright
that it's white.

Happiness is curled up in the selfishness,
wrapped around in layers of blankets
warm and safe.

You can't keep it safe
and the happiness can't take anyone with it.

When tears are the only thing
that keep you warm
alone in the ice world
in which you were born.

My hands waltz
with my heart
when I'm at rest
with you

Like valleys in a desolate wasteland bear the skeletons of water
and the tundra is envious of the desert that's regrettably hotter,
these scars show where blood used to flow
and remember the life in a cave leaking tears down below.
My veins are an ardent irrigation system
That try to forget that I ever missed him, kissed him, and dissed him
and wish that I  had thrown a fist at him and ****** him off.
The life from my blood is putrid and lucid and trying to rid
itself of hidden embarrassment sleeping amid a bed of emotions about to burst.
Let it dampen your thirst and immerse itself in this sobbing flood.
I need a well to siphon all of my blood back into my veins
and to feel less insane and less hopefully vain,
you're the bane of my tears and the bane of my main fears.
Humanity is persisting with an impossible dream
that seems to tease me, tearing my seams and threatening the steams of my inner hot springs to bring this kingdom down into the ground remembering nothing.
Embezzling these dreams from the hopeless lovers and the luckless lovers and foolish and moronic and simple-minded lovers.
So wait with me for the monsoon of dust because I must not wait in solitude waiting for my crowded heart to spontaneously combust.
The darkness for once is a beacon, meek and a freakin' immature fawn
exulting in our fictitious devotion, crying from it's eyes
bathing in the tears crying from the skies,
and mourning through our veins and dreaming in the morning in pain.
I'm hosting a caucus for flirtation but you're the only one invited.
We're a landscape of brutal simplicity.

Depressed for time and pressed for happiness

I'm always right

So I'm right when I say I don't deserve anything good anyway

Wear sunglasses; covers your eyes.
Take a shower; gives you an excuse to have wet eyes.
Smoke a lot of ****; gives you an excuse to have red eyes.
Tell people you're sick; gives you an excuse to have the sniffles.
Tell people a loved one died; gives you an excuse that's accepted by society.
Don't come out of your room; covers your eyes.
Watch a sad movie; gives you another excuse to cry

Be lonely; won't need an excuse to cry.

I have the mouth of a whale
so come crawl inside.

I'll eat you up;
wrap your body in my skin
like a tuxedo on New Years Eve
Wear my bow as your tie
and inhale my blood like wine

Dance Freely

Control my mind
and leave some of your mind in mine

When you crawl back out
and walk away, drenched wet in my spit,
you'll leave my skin in the pile of ***** laundry
on your bedroom floor.

I do things in the dark
that nobody would suspect

I do things in the dark
and I speak in a different dialect

I do things in the dark
that I get embarrassed of when it's light outside

I do things in the dark
that I really shouldn't be afraid to hide

What I do in the dark
people normally aren't ashamed of

I only wait until it's dark
because I'm shy and don't know how to play the game

I wait until it's dark
because I'm scared of how things look in the light

I wait until it's dark
because I only know how do things at night

I wait until it's dark
because then I know it's safe to be myself

I wait until it's dark
because I can rearrange the perfect rows on my shelf

I do things when it's dark
that aren't even bad or weird or evil

I only do them when it's dark
because I'm scared and weak, and love is lethal

I only want love when it's dark
because it's when I notice that nobody's around

I only want people around when it's dark
because it's then that I start hearing the friendly and forbidden sounds

I only hear these sounds when it's dark
because my heart screams loudest when it's alone

I only listen to my heart when it's dark
because during the day it's deafened by everyone's moans and groans

I hear everything differently when it's dark
because moans don't sound dreary, they sound steamy and hot

I decipher the sounds when it's dark
because everything is never as it seems; it's just not

And I feel the most alone when it's dark
because at night I realize I'm sleeping alone and that's how it's always going to be

I'm lonely when it's dark
because it's when I realize that I've trapped myself and I'm never going to set myself free

and I do things when it's dark
I think and I scream without making any noise

I do things when it's dark
I wink at all the boys

The last time I was here
your hand was in mine

I'm looking in
but I'm inside too.

****.

In the hours that you hate me,
I'll remember the day
When I was my spirit animal
...back when you would always stay

There's no looking back as you're breaking away,
just really nice apathy.
There's no recognition of the distraction
that went somewhere else.
I wanted them all to stay,
but now I just want to move.
It's not recognized that this thing is bothering me.
That part of something else is disvalued.
I don't want to listen to sad music,
but where is my brain going?
Can you do it again?

I might not be in the middle of a hurricane
But that doesn't mean it isn't windy
and it doesn't mean the constant rain
isn't making me cold
and it doesn't mean that the clouds
aren't making everything darker
than it should be
and it doesn't mean that I can't
see hail and sleet and snow
in the distance
and it doesn't mean
that I'm not dreading its presence
in my life.

I might not be in a hurricane
but that doesn't mean
the weather is nice
it doesn't mean a sight of the sun now and then
wouldn't suffice

However
If the sun says hello
I won't know how to greet it
I won't know how to look at it
probably not directly in the eye
because that would make me blind
more blind than I am now, anyway
and I don't know how I would spend my day
with the sun screening my back
I would probably just start running
so I could feel wind on face
because that's all I'm used to
and the wind is what puts me in my place.

There are nights like tonight

When the world is ending again,

But this time it's not your fault.

And you wish that the fault was yours,

So as to have a reason to be with everybody else.

And you wish that he wasn't so lonely

And you wish that a different he liked to be lonely like you do

And you wish that you didn't like being lonely like you do

And you wish that another he was lonely

And you wish that she knew that you were lonely, but assumed you were sad.

And you wish that you didn't enjoy brooding

But then you could be happy with something else for a change.

And you wish that you knew what a real smile looked like,

Because you don't believe that you've ever truly seen one

And you wish you were a little meaner so you could seem a little happier

And you wish you were a little different  so you could want to be happier

And he wishes you were a little nicer because he doesn't know what mean is

And a different he wishes you were meaner so you could be somebody else

And a different he doesn't even know that you're nice at all.

And you wish that he thought you to be a sadist.

And you don't know why.

Maybe you just want to feel bad-***.

Maybe you just want to feel something new.

Maybe you know that he wants you to be something new.

Maybe you don't know that he is something new,

and you will be forever the same,

forever alone

an maybe you like it that way.

It's always 11:11
and everyday is
April 1st

There's everything to tell but no words to use
So I'm in that moment where nothing's around
But everything's inside, pounding at my chest to get out
Peeking through holes in my heart
because there aren't any windows
Even if there were I'd buy curtains and blinds
because that's just what I do
So if you find any words, give them to me
because I'm running out
because they run away from home
I wish I could go with those words
but they're somewhere at my feet
and I'm scared of going down.

I don't have a hand for you to hold,
but my wrist is always there
for you to pull alongside you.

I wish I was in control of my own happiness.

I envy your power,
and it's now or never.

Nothing is forever.

Clipped wings
     and soft paws.

Cut my fingers at the first joint
     and make me forget how to soar.

Take my weapons
     and means of escape.

I'm flying in circles
     and taking pit stops on perches...
          ...
               ...
                    ...

I'm defenseless
with nothing left to be condemned.

Your kisses give me scars
when they break the skin
I hope you love the taste
of my salty blood between
your teeth;
sleeping on your gums

With the sky so crystal
and the sun so giddy,
there is little reason for
this woebegone pace
in this abandoned place.

You can't
find what
you don't
look for

I don't
see you
anymore

I'm not
even
looking
anymore

then how do you interpret me?
I am only a pedestrian on the street
there is no beauty in me
I wasn't painted on a canvas
or carved from stone
but if I'm photographed here
I am a work of art

If I stand in this picture
I'm appreciated by modern spectators
but if I stand on this street
I'm not appreciated at all.

It's a song to end the night with...
It's a song to end the fight with...
It's a song to end a life with...
It's a song to start a flight with.

I don't know why it makes me sick to my stomach everytime I look at you. You're beautiful and cunning and interesting and I hate you because you're so different than me and yet I'm fascinated by everything you can be that I can't, and I'm in awe of everything you can do that I can't. God you have so much talent.

Yet everytime I look at you I get sick to my stomach. You're perfect because you know that you aren't. And you're so wrong sometimes, but I can't even know this because I hardly know you and just writing about you and ranting about you makes me feel so weird because you would feel so weird if you knew that I was writing about you and ranting about you. This must mean I care about you, but I don't know why. I care so much about someone I've never even met.

Everytime I look at you I get sick to my stomach. I guess this means we should meet. "Hi, I'm Peyton." Oh, wait. You don't know this is about you or who I am for that matter.

So I guess all I can do is keep getting sick to my stomach everytime I look at you. And all I can do is be jealous of you for some reason that I still can't figure out, because there's no way that I'd ever want to be you. You're so ******* fascinating. I wish you knew how fascinated I am by you. Wait, no I don't. If you knew then you would know that I know who you are and that I'm writing and ranting about you and I would get embarrassed about how creepy I am.

So I'll just keep looking at you and getting sick to my stomach, because no matter how hard I try not to, I still can see you everywhere.

I don't know why I get sick to my stomach everytime I look at you.

Oh wait. I guess I just told you why.

Why is your face
on the ground
if your head
is heaven?

I only like you because you're my best friend.
If I didn't like you so much,
I'd hate your guts
because everything about you is so unlikeable

but you're my best friend,
so I kind of like you a lot.

My dreams are so good
they're nightmares.