i smoke cigarettes out
of sheer boredom,
not the kind that makes you
want to **** yourself, no
a different kind of
boredom
probably the one that
makes you want to do nothing
but sit and enjoy
how pathetic you are.

the streets are dark and
uninspiring
a bit like my past
where everything that happened
happened without a sound

my birth, how much i hated
company as a young girl,
my sister's birth, my brother's time
in jail, the pathetic love of
my pathetic life.

but it's not pathetic  when
it's unnoticed and this
sad excuse of a poem isn't
the last i write, nor is this
cigarette the last
i smoke.


-- Eleanor

There are monsters under our beds
Who are fighting battles inside their heads.
I think we should take our meds

Because we're crazy people.


-- Eleanor

And maybe
We are puzzle pieces,
Carrying debris from
The broken
Universal truth.


-- Eleanor

Lately faces have been hard
To tell apart.


-- Eleanor

You don't want my pain
You have enough...

How morbid must you be, he says.


-- Eleanor

You say you're ugly
But darling
You are a butterfly
That has seen the day
To be pretty.


-- Eleanor

I feel there is space between
me and my skin
and you're the closest thing.


-- Eleanor

Just when you're ready
To hurt me,
Avoid the heart.

-- Eleanor

She is a romance magnet
And when she walks
I can almost see the moon
Follow her steps.
And when she goes to sleep
The night sky goes starless
For the stars have no one to shine upon
Except her.
But me,
I am just like the rest.


-- Eleanor