am i too big for my own skin? or do i just make myself out as something i am not?
sometimes i see things from the outside and i can see me hiding in myself because i want to pretend i am something great.
it feels like lies, but never have i wanted more than lies to be truth. i want to believe that what you see is what i am.
but can that be?
i want to be what you see. but can that be?

who would have thought it ends this way?
The stars, how they had warned us.
Now I don't know how to make you stay.

I can feel your life slipping through.
My hands shake, you are cold,
and I never guessed, I never knew.
My heart breaks as I let go.

We never knew where this led,
and now your blood is on my hands.
As the lamb makes his final stand,
I wish this wasn’t how it ends.

And now the sands tell your time.
As the wolf shouts to the moon,
the stars above you, they align.

Talking without thought is not talking at all,
And we'd rather keep silent than divulge our darkest secrets.
The darkest words are written on our hearts,
And the lost thoughts are the brightest among the stars.

Soft music playing over dark surroundings,
The scars we bear are proof we're we've strayed.
Like a butterfly in the rain,
We dodge the words that bring us pain.

Will we see another day?
                                                           ­                      Will we see another day?


And we thought we've cried an ocean,
But we've only gone lake deep.
Before, we knew where we started,
Now we don't know how far we've lost.
A step behind, but stepping in time,
We fall short to find the world catches up with us.

The moon guides the waves,
Which washes the words written in the sand away.

Will we find another way?
                                                           ­                   Will we find another way?

We start to find that we thought we were swimming across an ocean,
But it's not nearly that far.

our minds are more awake while we sleep.
so this is why i never go to bed.
because i'd rather dream with my eyes open.

and how dare the stars still shine,
as we are dropping dead like flies.

but i guess that's their point.

i like to pretend that i am walking through the universe.
it's much easier to understand up there;
why our eyes shine, why our cheeks ignite.

because we are made of stars.
we are barely a pinprick on the map of this universe,
but we are made to
*S H I N E

if he is such an angel
then why do i see him
in my nightmares?

i know he rules over
sweet dreams and
fantasies, but he is
not in my dreams.
only in my memories.

so the moon rises
another night,
and i say to him,
hello there,
the angel from
my nightmares.

bright yellow suns
make up his soul.
a sense of wonder
that could never fade.

a small yellow flower
with petals so fragile,
but the seed remains.
he will grow again.

a sense of wonder
he does contain
that speaks to him.
question everything.

a sense of hope
he does contain
that speaks to him.
the sun will rise again.

I have always known how to breathe, but around you I am breathless.
I have always known how to feel, but with you I can’t place it.
At times I feel safe with you, I want to hold you close and never let go.
Then other times I want to hurt you or myself or anything else to keep from screaming.
The sun and the moon were always set to collide, but I have never felt more at home in your shadow.
You call me magic but you are wrong.
I am no god or angel or otherworldly being, I am human, it is all I have ever known.
Gods and angels would know how to feel or they wouldn’t feel at all.
I may have power running through my veins but against you I am powerless.
Blood may flood my chest, but if you are the cause then I will call it nothing less than ecstasy.
I was always the boy with enough air in my lungs, but with you I am utterly breathless.

There are galaxies of stars in your eyes
Like the rust spots scattered on the slide.
The one we used to ride,
Before the moon stole the tide.
And now I’m lost in the broken scatters
Because you were all that mattered.

Sometimes I’m torn between
the light side of my soul,
and the dark place in my brain.
People say you have to pick a side,
you can’t stand in between.
And if I’m caught in the crossfire,
it’s better than tearing myself apart.
Pitting one side of me against the other.
Because the demon whispers lullabies
While the angel whispers doubts.
I’d like to think I’m quick to catch the lies
in the net of truths shouted at me,
collecting in the space behind my eyes.
Sometimes my finger slips
and I pull the trigger, but little did I
know the gun was pointed the wrong
way, so now I have a bullet between my
eyes, aiming at the dark part of me.
But the angel side decides that
maybe I’m not ready to die.
I pinned a rose to the face of the
side that died when I thought it was
wise to try and take my own life.
Because the demon in me promised
me a truth that was consisted of lies.
And my heart is empty, with a blood
red lipstick stain on my cheek. And the
demon in me says that it’s not my
responsibility, but how could I not know
that while I was keeping the light behind
a cage, the dark was roaming free.
My nail was painted white when I held
the muzzle to my cheek. And I aimed to
**** the bad part of me, but the angel shot
an arrow at his brother and changed his
mind before I had time to change mine.
An angel killed an angel, in a moment
of fear and shame. I fed the wolf too much
rotten meat. I corrupted the light in me,
running too fast to keep up, and I
missed the black spots swimming in
my head. The Devil kissed my lips
while I was sleeping, and the angel
drank the poison to save me the agony.
I let the light swallow the dark only
to turn into the poison meant to **** me.
And now I peel the petals of the rose
bestowed to me by God, only to
see the body of the angle laying
dead in the center, pollen coating
its skin as it sleeps eternally.
Just like the better part of me.

Lightning never strikes the same place twice,
but the phantom pain remains as the Earth
grows into new skin, again and again.
As I attempt to accept this heart & soul
on my own, willow wisp wishes to keep me
company. My clothes cling to my limbs, I am
soaked to the bone in my own ocean.
Barely grown oak trees caress my aching
body, to bring me back home. The scent
of petrichor floods my senses, and I know.
I am clean again.

i've always felt at home up high,
since i am closer to the stars.
       the stars seem like the best thing
       we can hope to be.

i went to the place where
we first met,
and there i saw
the corpse of who you were.
i stood over you
i let the flies hit my face
i watched the vultures circle
waiting, waiting
until i finally left &
they could pick at your bones.
i stood there
as the clovers ate you
as my hands were left with blood.
i saw your corpse on that hill
where you said my age didn’t matter
i could still send you nudes
at seventeen & in love
with who i thought you were.
the you i thought you were
died on that hill
as it should have
when i asked you to stop drinking too much
and you didn’t
when i asked you to stop smoking so much
and you didn’t
when i asked you to never leave
and you did.
you died on that hill.
and i stood over your corpse
with my own blood on my hands
after killing myself for you.
i watched decay eat you on that hill
and i stepped back into myself
and i walked away.

i didn’t bother to bury you.
the vultures ate what was left.

you want to believe they will grow to miss you. you know you are wrong when you say they will realize what they let go. they never made a mistake; you didn’t either. it was a flame meant to suffocate. while you got hit with the explosion, they had lit the fuse. they were walking away and left you to pick up the mess that was made. what pieces of belief you had were shattered; you worked so hard to put them together. soon, your skin will harden to protect those parts of you that are so naive. bombs will fall around you, and you will get knocked off your feet. but the more they happen, the stronger you will grow, and the easier it will be to pick yourself up off the floor. this is what life is. this is the danger of love. this is the danger of hope. this is the danger of trusting anyone besides yourself. you can’t even do that anymore, though.
you will grow.

I REMEMBER THE FIRST TIME YOU TOLD ME YOU LOVED ME
AND I PRETENDED NOT TO CARE BECAUSE I WAS TERRIFIED
I REMEMBER THE LAST TIME I TOLD YOU I LOVED YOU
AND YOU DID NOT ******* CARE.

you can't stop your heart as it beats erratically.
      now isn't that funny?

and your breathing is gone but yet you still live.
      how i thought you were weak, oh, what a whim.

now your stomach is empty, but you're full to the brim.
       you fight with your life, yet you can win.

and a god never thought humanity could live this long.
      you fight wars as you sing death's song.

mind boggling the difference between
conceived and reality.
how young i must’ve been
to convince myself to have a mind-altering illness
just to fit an image
just to fit in.

the dark thoughts were only conjuration
and i wasn’t depressed at all
though now i learn that the people
around you can shape who you are
and who you will become.

i aged &
didn’t know hate until
i woke up and met myself.
i slept through the days &
walked along highways.

when i was young it was easy to fake
and make a spectacle of the brain
when people thought they cared because
it was easy. i could still
laugh, and eat, and sleep normally

instead of in class isolated
depressed with a dying mind i
couldn’t comprehend why
it was easy the first time because
it was so much less complicated.

and people only like you when
you’re fabricated but as soon as
you become real the monster becomes
real it’s a conscious decision to let go
when you need all the help in the world

to not let go i was hanging on by
a thread when before it was a rope
ladder but it doesn’t matter when
you decide to make it all a noose &
hope they see you swinging

like it was always a sick spectacle.
people love depression when it’s fake
but the first night you try suicide
always ready to label as ‘bait’
and maybe i’m still not okay

but i’m over it. i understand the difference
between conceived and reality
the only lesson i learned was to hide
just to unlearn again that i can’t
listen. i thought i knew what depression was
at thirteen enough to act like it
and it mattered then more than
my actual depression.

We gather here tonight
To bask in Fate’s delight.
A tale to tell our path,
A tale of Fate’s dear wrath.

Who is fate up there,
With her shining silver hair?
Arranging constellational myths,
From her fingertips.

What can we believe of Fate?
Basking immortal in the sky,
To her we wonder why--
The stars are wrinkles in time.

What drives the stars to shine,
And what can we ask of them,
In lines and curves and light?
Can they guide us through our life?

Can Fate tell us all of this?
After all, she is made of myths.
She burned the flying Icarus,
And cursed dear Prometheus.

Who are we without our fate?
Do we know our own way?
What are we without dreams?
What are we without prophecies?

“Where is Fate?” we ask.
“Can we coax her out?”
Instead she whispers down,
Fate is found inside ourselves.

what a lovely thing it is
to know
you gave your heart
but not
your soul

yet you still lost it all
because you forgot
that when you signed
your heart away
your soul was
the fine
print.

this is what you get
when you try
to share
your life
with another.

i hope that when they look at me, they can see your ghost in my shadow

you smelled like
cheap leather,
and cigarettes.

no wonder i had
headaches.

I hope you can't hear my breathing,
Because the lies I've told are unsheathing.

And I walked through Hell and back for you,
But I suppose you wouldn't know that...
...Would you?

they see him running on sunbeams in the early morning. stars are tied to his toes and they rattle behind him like chains, but he has never felt so liberated. there was a time when atoms were exploding in his lungs and he could not breathe, colors would fly behind his eyes and he could not see. his skin was numb from too many suns burning beneath the surface. he used to curse the morning; now he holds it in his hands and sprinkles it down upon us.

he still sees himself as human, is that a surprise? though he is stardust and the remains of energy, he is flesh and blood first. he came from the womb, not from the sky. he knew his hands before he knew his wings; he knew his words before he knew his magic. he dances with the snow on winter nights only to melt it away in the day. he drinks golden wine, it’s gods ichor he sips. he twirls his curls around his fingers and whistles tunes only the bluebirds understand. he runs barefoot through forests and though his feet may bleed, he brings the sunlight with him and that’s all he needs. he trips on skies and sips waterfalls, throws his wishes into wells. he can make miracles happen. what being in the world would want to make such magic angry?

a thousand suns have tried before, to hold him in their burning grasp. there is no force known to us that can contain him where they lack.

we kiss because love is liquid death, and we're just curious to take a sip.
     darling, it's okay to wonder about death because you haven't tried it yet. just trust me when i say that love is the slowest, most painful route to take.

loneliness is ten letters, but the thought of me ending without you because i never told you to kiss me is all i think about.
     there is nothing i am more afraid of then feeling alone because i don't have you, but yet i am terrified i will have you and still feel empty.
     kissing only lasts so long but i can still remember the taste of your lips -- honey and salt in the perfect mixture of sweet and bitter, for those who wonder -- and i still hear the way you whispered my name against my neck in my dreams.

like the bubbles of a bath
coalescing together
the sky is one great sea
i’m sinking clean in
rivulets of cosmetic colour
where the glitter are stars
i’m sinking in this night
as clouds clot to one another
cheetah print hover
i’m sinking in my footprints
headlights break the silence
playlist play a song to break
my vision sinking
senses swimming in
play me some 80s synth pop
until i fade into abstract image
am i a stain on the universe
or am i some profound detail?
play me like an unrendered
record player, nonexistence
parallel to my existence
the vibrations tuning into
my sinking frequency
i’m falling up into the horizon
what impression does my
splash make in the ocean
of this sky?

Hollow eyed and frozen in time,
There's no way we can jump back to life.
And there's no more time,
To make all the wrongs that we wrote right.

we kiss because the air we breathe for most of our lives is stale, but the air inside your lungs is the freshest i've ever tasted.
     god, let me breathe you in like the smoke i crave, yet you still insist will **** me.

My heart is pounding. I’m cold.

Should’ve worn a jacket instead of trying to impress someone who doesn’t even care enough about you to stop dragging you over the gravel of their soul. *******.

I didn’t eat lunch because I’m scared and confused and I don’t know how to feel even though I know I am feeling.

Stop.

And if human emotions—feelings—are such a normal thing and we feel them everyday then why do I feel so ashamed?

Because you shouldn’t feel the way you do. You’ll just get hurt.

But maybe I don’t care about the backlash of what I do now because it will only matter later, and later doesn’t matter because what is will be. I want to feel things now and be numb later because then I’ll at least be back to not caring what people say or how they treat me because anyone who’s attention I’ve wanted to get just rejects, regrets, forgets about me anyway.

You don’t need to be loved to feel love.

And I know you don’t need a person in your life, your thoughts, to get yourself to feel but I don’t care because I want to see a face when I think of love. I don’t care who it is, where they are, I just want to know that I feel—

You deserve more than this! If they hate you, degrade you, make you doubt yourself, then the way you think is no better than the way they act! They kiss their knuckles before they bruise your cheek, and they pray to God that they won’t feel guilty even though you’re the one who’s left bleeding! And I know you can’t help how you feel but you have to try because in the end you’ll just feel like ****, biting down on your lip to keep the sobs in while they watch you unravel but you’re still wrapped around their finger! And you have to let go, unravel yourself from their hold even though they’re letting you slip through their fingers and you’re still holding on! You have to let yourself go, because you want to feel but you’re pigeonholing what you allow in so only the things you know will starve you have perfect aim! You want to feel, but you’re not letting yourself feel true enough because you refuse to let go of what you want instead of looking for what you need!

*…Stop.

spelled out in the stars
heavy as a rain-filled sky
raw, frantic, born of desperation
confusion, something stirs.

It is a dream. I am dreaming
I must be. I have wanted for months
I have heard your voice in my head
you are dead.

we had lost our sanity in the night,
blowing smoke from our lips.
the taste of you is still sweet on my tongue.
and we’re an explosion,
bright for a moment and then gone.

we cannot find what we live for.
sweat drips off bare bodies being pressed together,
like melting wax from a burning candle.
there is a grace period where we can
fit in our sanity, just for a short time.

sand slips past knuckles,
satin sheets gripped in fists.
grinding teeth against slurs,
we leave our fingerprints
on an empty pill bottle.

Little Red Bird, Little Red Bird,
Fly through the storm to me.
Little Red Bird, Little Red Bird,
Find your way to me.

And if you call upon me,
I shall not take too much,
And I shall not leave too little.
For I am a humble thing.

Little Red Bird, Little Red Bird,
A quick thing you be.
Little Red Bird, Little Red Bird,
Find a place to perch happily.

I am a smaller thing,
With bigger wings.
And I am the color of crimson,
For I bring you the morning sun.

Little Red Bird, Little Red Bird,
Grow yourself legs and walk with me.
Little Red Bird, Little Red Bird,
Get yourself a voice, and tell me.

I am one for flying high,
And I belong in the sky.
Do not look at the ground,
For I am not one who resides there.

And at the times when you need me most,
Is when I am most silent.
For I count on you to hear me singing,
Even when the rain is quite loud.

Little Red Bird, Little Red Bird,
You are a delicate thing.
Little Red Bird, Little Red Bird,
Fly from my palms now,
And go to someone else who needs you,
More than I now do.

my cards don’t line up.
i know yours don’t, either.
if love’s a game, i call bluff.
you lay your cards
and think you’ve won.
we’ve just begun.
if love’s a hit and run,
you can play that perfectly.
if love’s a game,
then i will never lose.

sometimes i can’t remember what i was doing
and i forgot about the bruise on my neck
you lick slicked polished
and i don’t think anybody here cares
i’m a gas station worker behind the counter
begging for ID’s as cigarettes sit between two still sharp teeth and—
i hope yours never break like theirs.
never rot or fall apart like your mind is already starting
to and the only people who care about the mark you left on me are the
men who want to make their own
as if seeing a consenting form of affection deserves hostility
toward me. but they forget, too, it was your lips
versus my neck
and i once compared you to a vampire but i guess
now it’s true
but i couldn’t resist you
then
and i can’t resist you
now.

let them growl & grovel at my feet.
you grew fangs to bite me and i will
grow talons to claw their eyes out.
we’re all leaving here with marks tonight.

I’d like to wait a moment
I think I’m in deep.
my eyes. ever so gentle.
my lips, light as a butterfly,
lovely I sighed.

rumbling inside
starting to pull away.
wrap around me.
all that my heart felt.

pull back,
I had done something wrong.
I had done something weird.
wearing like a cape,
watching me run

memorial magic disappears
& I am left grasping
at nothing, again.

i’m trying to mend many things at once:
myself, my relationships, my environment.
my hands will shake. & i will run out
of breath. i will need to disappear for
a while to collect myself. so i can carry on
again. i will take my time to respond.
thinking about what i say with as much
scrutiny as i can muster, is a taxing task.
i am trying. i am trying with all my might,
with these broken hands, with this broken
body covered in scars no one can see.
with this broken heart bleeding,
to make right what is wrong within myself.
i will plaster these cracks behind this
mask, with your words. forever reminded
of how i can do better. and i will
keep going, with these broken bones.
these chains, i will carry whoever i can,
whoever i can save, the way i couldn’t
save myself. and i will mend whoever
i can, the way i couldn’t mend myself.
with these broken hands. with this
broken heart. with this broken body
with this broken mind. behind these
broken eyes. i have lost too many pieces
to piece myself back together. but i will
try. & i will try to put everyone i can
back together, with the pieces of myself
that are left.
& i will try, to mend what is broken.
even if i can’t be mended.

They have slain the life
who lit my eyes alight.

They have slain the sky,
in all colourful starlight.

They have slain my flame,
leaving dead coals unbright.

And they have slain
all my feeling.
My moon, my sun,
all is dead and gone.

And they have slain
the mercy inside me.
I will break the stars
to bring back what was
ours.

Now I have slain,
and as you wait for me,
in the skies beyond the sea,
know you were my mercy.

Laid down, the only answer that can be given.
Clearer light, separate and distinct, from the same fountain.
Ambition, to counteract ambition.
Human nature, to reflect on human nature.
Angels were to control itself.

Divide and fortify. Natural defense, safety. Absolute negative connection between this weaker and the weaker.
All the power surrendered.
Evil will render This, turned against, broken into.
Justice is the end, pursued until it be obtained, or lost in the pursuit.
Unite and oppress, anarchy to rein as a state of nature,
not secured against the violence.

so much red, and none of it light.
the way it stole beneath fingers,
life spilling across the floor until
that horrible cusp, the instant when it ended.
stopped being a person and became a body.
No transition, no ease, gone and there, there and gone, gone.
bloodstained fingers searching out skin.
They whispered their sins,
listen, look at me, I’m here.
Corpse, a simple word that did so little,
failed to describe what was now a shell.
the same colour as a soul, but empty,
useless the moment it left veins.
Violence begets violence, monsters breed monsters,
rising up beside the red. shadows twitch,
looking down at itself right before death.

An unstable corona
glazed with astonishment
paralysed.
intricate flows of power
unraveling
racing at the speed
of light
blaring
silently into the aether.
a continuous,
incomprehensible,
stream of awareness.

broadcast
hidden messages from
the corners of the
mind
defying
time as relative.
quantify this
immaterial bliss
enveloped in consciousness.

dreams are one with
form, froth on
effervescent liquor of
image and desire
and cognition and emotion.

no sustenance.
blood let, bleed out,
husk of brood being
the Weaver of
all that is not.

a universe
in tanglement,
trapped asphyxiation
hanging
from nothing,
a big bang beginning
at the end.

what is left?

i think i see you staring at me,
  But then i turn my head and it is just a trick of the light.
The luminescent bulbs reflect off the white walls, and i wince when i hear you speak.
     A butterfly settles on my cheek.

i thought i saw you standing in the corner of my room,
  watching me sleep as my chest rises and falls with the thought that i will wake up next to you.
     But it is only a ghost i had created in order to replace you.

i hoped i would find you in my dreams.
  i did, but you were not dreaming of me.
And they say that when you dream about someone it's because they fell asleep thinking of you.
  i highly doubt that is true,
     And i don't dream during the night, much less about you.

i wish you would talk to me.
  A half of my life says that i can't trust you, because they are afraid that you will hurt me.
And the other portion of my life tells me to take chances now,
  or i won't have stories to tell to my children, or my children's children.

And if i can't reach you then i know that i am nothing more than a fragment of a broken star that is not part of your constellations.
     Because i am too far away for you to see or care about.

And I hope that someday i will be part of someone's world.
Close enough to see so they miss me when i am gone.
  But if that never happens then i will fade out rather than burn away.
     Having nothing to give, i will leave no trace.

i think i see you in my nightmares. my therapist says i am insane. i say it is the heartache.

for once i wish to forget what it feels like to be forgotten, even if it means forgetting you. i wish i hated you while you loved me, so then i will know how it feels to be forgotten by me like i have been forgotten by you.

i scatter myself into piece like broken mirrors at my feet because it is better to be broken than to let them see me bleed. i tape myself back together and hope that they will never know what i have done.

i want to rip out my ******* hair because you are the reason i can’t breathe but you are also my air.

i hope you drown, sink to the ocean floor and let the fish swim among your bones.

it doesn’t matter if you stay or go. i promise this, i will still see you in my nightmares.