Dec 2018
what do you give that girl ?
who wants to die, you don’t know why, but you love her darkened eyes ?
her suicidal tendencies, chapstick stained remedies,
the way a piece of hair is
stuck to her lips while you skype her after your family flips
does she feel the same,
the hardened shame,
the open blame,
but not the same, in a sense she needs more than what you’ll ever get being tame
a burning flag,
amongst a bangled banner,
i noticed over the summer your skin got a little tanner.
but maybe you never went outside,
the ocean split like your mind,
and the tidal waves washed away
your blood-stained knives
a bottle of the dial toning ,
spilt around ten bottles of melatonin,
but are you so sure
you’re fine in the house you call
your home?
but not the Massachusetts town I hate
or the night’s always late, or the number 3,6,2,7,8
, but that’s ******* great.
cursed forever
with the memory,
of a girl with no remedies.
she’ll probably graduate
a different kind of dropout with good
intentions,
but the resentment of your ownn love was by my invention.
cry just to ease the tensions,
but never mentioned,
my adolescence.
or the absence of security, though her blankets would do fine,
another poor boy,
crossed the lines.
onto the other side,
the side of her demise,
where she traps well, in those darkened eyes.
her dark hair,
or darker thoughts,
but to the Sunday lights, never distraught,
that she’d lie just to die,
eyes not just pale.
but trapped into itself,
heart with a double step and a bad case of tangerines
i cry when i think about her lost,
but our dm’s are just across,
a doubled over body,
dry heaving into a shower drain,
and a sickly someone who’s life is in disdain.
Sorry if this is dark but it’s
just what’s on your mind,
a criminal disposition,
but you’re already in line.
For a one stop train to the other side,
where boys get lost in
those darkened eyes,
the place where pretty boys and girls go to die,
the place without face,
and a second pair of legs,
but without what lights
to bring it’s mostly a
haze, a fog, a siren’s single song, a never-ending void, but he’s just annoyed.
That she wants to leave this life, over and over again, a never-ending cycle, until her final end. Overdosed double over, but I can’t just not send.
a simple text or call or an hour,
cause I love you doesn’t
have enough power, to express your
love for your hate,
or to change the clip in your suicide,
why is it this way, to never want to die in those darkened eyes
but you love the one who never had to ask why.
who wants to die, you don’t know why, but you love her darkened eyes ?
her suicidal tendencies, chapstick stained remedies,
the way a piece of hair is
stuck to her lips while you skype her after your family flips
does she feel the same,
the hardened shame,
the open blame,
but not the same, in a sense she needs more than what you’ll ever get being tame
a burning flag,
amongst a bangled banner,
i noticed over the summer your skin got a little tanner.
but maybe you never went outside,
the ocean split like your mind,
and the tidal waves washed away
your blood-stained knives
a bottle of the dial toning ,
spilt around ten bottles of melatonin,
but are you so sure
you’re fine in the house you call
your home?
but not the Massachusetts town I hate
or the night’s always late, or the number 3,6,2,7,8
, but that’s ******* great.
cursed forever
with the memory,
of a girl with no remedies.
she’ll probably graduate
a different kind of dropout with good
intentions,
but the resentment of your ownn love was by my invention.
cry just to ease the tensions,
but never mentioned,
my adolescence.
or the absence of security, though her blankets would do fine,
another poor boy,
crossed the lines.
onto the other side,
the side of her demise,
where she traps well, in those darkened eyes.
her dark hair,
or darker thoughts,
but to the Sunday lights, never distraught,
that she’d lie just to die,
eyes not just pale.
but trapped into itself,
heart with a double step and a bad case of tangerines
i cry when i think about her lost,
but our dm’s are just across,
a doubled over body,
dry heaving into a shower drain,
and a sickly someone who’s life is in disdain.
Sorry if this is dark but it’s
just what’s on your mind,
a criminal disposition,
but you’re already in line.
For a one stop train to the other side,
where boys get lost in
those darkened eyes,
the place where pretty boys and girls go to die,
the place without face,
and a second pair of legs,
but without what lights
to bring it’s mostly a
haze, a fog, a siren’s single song, a never-ending void, but he’s just annoyed.
That she wants to leave this life, over and over again, a never-ending cycle, until her final end. Overdosed double over, but I can’t just not send.
a simple text or call or an hour,
cause I love you doesn’t
have enough power, to express your
love for your hate,
or to change the clip in your suicide,
why is it this way, to never want to die in those darkened eyes
but you love the one who never had to ask why.
