She is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen
And I might yell and scream at times but
She is worth every pain I went through
And if I knew that this kind of love existed
Maybe I wouldn’t have broken my own heart so many times
I kept aiming for a target but missed it
But on this round I hit the bullseye
She looks up at me with her eyes open wide
It makes me feel as if I am her entire world
This little bundle...my little girl...
Has entirely changed my life
Finally I might be able to enjoy something
Flowers bloom in the cracks that once engraved my heart
There is not a single part of me I wouldn’t give for her
Through this, a realization is spurred:
Finally I might be able to love myself
Because she is just an extension of me on the outside
Like an ocean tide we will ebb and flow
When I feel low I can stare at her face
And understand that I belong in this place

you broke me

but its fine
I'll shrug it off
it doesn't hurt anyways
I dont wanna rip myself apart anyways


I hope the pieces of me will finally make you feel full

When I was ten I used to believe some pretty silly things
I believed my sister when she told me
That marshmallows were made out of whale blubber
I believed that all the monsters in the world
Would totally be repelled by my covers
I believed that taking 40 baby aspirin would **** me
And I only found out it wouldn’t after I tried
When I found out that other than a stomach ache
I was left completely fine
I first attempted suicide at the age of 10
And I don’t know if that’s where anyone else has been
But I really ******* hope not
I found out at age 14 that monsters, real monsters
Are the ones who actually slip under your sheets
Plucking out your innocence before you can even realize
That they are monsters that will hold your hand as they **** you
Make you believe that you are okay
But 4 years down the road you still won’t be able to breathe or concentrate
When you hear their name
Or when the anniversary of the day rolls around
You won’t be able to choke out any sound to ask for help
You can no longer let people in
Afraid they will blow you up like a balloon just to pop you with a razor sharp pin
I wish I could go back to believing in the silly things
I wish I could go back to flying in my dreams
Instead of drowning and being ripped at my seams

feel the burning in your chest and enjoy it
the pain, the tightness, the lack of air
you deserve to choke on it
now, dont pretend like you care

sinful silly girl when will you learn
you create chaos wherever you go
you can never escape these burns
so dig in deeper, nice and slow

is self harm still self harm if its emotional?
and do you even know why you trigger yourself?
what a dumb baby *****
stop ******* asking for their help

**** in the horrors of your mind
that's it, breathe the hatred into your veins
inject yourself with your own lies
like an ****** addict just numb the pain

He lets me place my hands on his cheeks
and what I mean by that is
he doesn't hit me when I bother him with my affection
He lets me travel my hands gently to his chest
during my slow and careful inspection
It starts with them trembling against the scruff on his cheeks
He says he needs to shave
I say he needs to let it grow
I run my fingers across the peaks of his eyebrows
He relaxes his tense muscles slowly under my touch
I feel an influx of emotions as I begin to understand
This man loves me
I'm tracing every inch of him into my brain
Because love like this can never be attained twice
The way he lets me be myself is something I am unaccustomed to
It is something which I am still adjusting to
My hands become more confident
They explore his arms, the ones that hold me
He holds me delicately as if I am a paper bird
And he does not wish to crumple or fold me
I tell him I am not fragile
He says he is aware
He says he knows how much I like it
when he pulls my hair
I ignore his sly comment and continue my journey
Whoever came before does not concern me
I know I am his
I am comfortable in this

if it werent for this chameleon skin
could anybody truly love me?

I'm past the point of return
Do you see how many times I've been burned?
Or how many times I've burned others?
I mask my sins with pretend covers
My smile, my happiness, its all fake
How much longer can I take
All this guilt before I break?
Maybe I should just jump in a lake
Yeah, rid the world of my mistake
Of being born, or was it fate?
No, I'm too ******* up for being meant to be
Accident defines my identity
P.M.

1 second, 2 seconds
3 seconds, 4
i can't breathe... I'm
clutching my chest trying to
stay off the floor
5 ticks, 6 ticks
7 ticks, 8
how could he...why couldn't
he just learn to appreciate..
what he had.
what he had.
me. me.
i can't breathe.
BUSY. stay busy.
count again. again.
1 click, 2 clicks
3 clicks, 4
my heart is beating
my chest is sore
count. count.
please keep counting.
stay busy.
5 Mississippi, 6 Mississippi
7 Mississippi, 8
my knees are weakened
and my vision's filled with hate
9 taps, 10 taps
11 taps and 12
12...12.... what comes after 12?
13. right. 13.
13....14....15...16...
do you think he'll even miss me?

I felt like the only human in the world when he looked at me in my eyes
and I know now that it was all a guise
but
I still miss that feeling sometimes

Every morning she lines her eyes
To cover up the night's she's cried
Feeling so empty inside
Trying to hide all of the lies
She's buried herself behind a wall of humor and fake smiles
Hoping people will actually want to stay a while
Maybe tonight will be the night
That her nightmares wont give her a fright
But she knows better than to hope
She knows it only ends with rope
She tumbled down such a slippery *****
Never knowing how to cope
She's ready, already wrote her note
Hoping it's easier to bleed than choke
She pulls the blade across her overlapping scars
Laughing as it rips her apart
Becoming all too familiar with her eyelids
Finally getting relief from her sins

Tomorrow I turn eighteen.
I’ve been living my whole life hating the fact that I was born
And I could’ve sworn that I wasn’t gonna make it this far
I’ve done my fair share of harm
I’ve popped bars and I’ve let loose
I’ve downed my weight in ***** and juice
I feel as though I have tried it all,
I don’t have very far left to fall
I’m tired of the world making me feel so **** small
I think this might be my final call
Eighteen years have come and gone,
In a hell that went on for far too long
I don’t think this is where I belong,
And I don’t think I’ll be around to hear my birthday song

i am cherry red lipstick
i am 6 shots of whiskey and loud words
i am soft fairy lights
i am the day and the night, simultaneously
i am my mothers daughter and then some
i am unashamed, bare faced
i am artist
i am writer
i am being

thank you

You know the way your phone slips from your hand and your heart drops?
The feeling of your heart skipping a beat as it shatters against the floor?
When I lose control, I experience a similar feeling
I lose control of my surroundings, sending my head reeling.
I panic and lash out in fear of the unknown
It’s like sand slipping from your fingertips at the beach
I lose myself in a storm of emotions and as I reach
For the little bits of myself, I can see in the chaos
They remain walking backward, afraid of who I’m becoming
My heart is drumming against my ribcage, ready to burst
And I’m terrified of the pale face I can see in the mirror
My reflection speaks for itself, wild eyes that know no bounds
Ears ringing, full of all the sounds
Of each voice that torments me around the clock
I’m ready for it all to stop but instead
I see myself hurting my loved ones
Becoming this animal that I cannot tame
And I remain the only one who can feel how I feel
Because unlike shattering a phone…
I cannot replace myself and this is all I know

Nightmares asleep, nightmares awake
No where to run, no place to escape
Success is crushed, beaten to the ground
Silent cries of help that make no sound
My mind races as I try to sleep
Battling to put my mind at ease
My body feels weighed down and heavy
My brain is hyperaware of every
Little noise that creeps in
Paranoid that it's an impending sin
I try to sleep, I try to sleep
It doesn't work, I don't succeed
I'm asking myself "what's wrong with me?"
"What's the point?" I'm saying
Its all just frustrating
I'm left taunted by freedom, held down by chains
Questioning all of this sleepless pain

From conception
To death
Progression
Has left
Blackened and burned
These scars that I've earned
From all of my sins
All my life has been
Constant trials
Refusal and denials
Nothing ever showing
The results of my so-called "growing"
Since when was I fixed?
Its all just a trick
To show the public
Im not mentally sick
But like I said
Its all just pretend
So they don’t see
How I turn out in the end

you love me because you want to save me
but im not salvagable...
sometimes garbage is just garbage
and you should let it rot

the day I met you
there were stars in my eyes
but eventually I figured out it was all lies
we weren't aligned
we weren't designed for each other
the trembling in my legs wasn't a sign of desperation
not a declaration of love
there was no love
it was never even given an expiration date
because it was never even something to anticipate
you had too many expectations
and you hands held no patience
your words tumbled smoothly against my guilt
your actions all perfectly structured and built
all to pluck the strings of my decision
you put me in an uncomfortable position

The oddest thing about depression is you can't exactly say you're dying of it.
Cancer? Pneumonia? Sure. You could tell people those are the things that are killing you.
But you can't exactly say you're dying of depression.
The fatality of this abnormality of an illness is severe.
You struggle day in, day out, trying to find your way out of this dark, numbing tunnel without light.
You don't get to say you're dying of depression, even if it feels like it. Because you have to have hope.
Unlike a Stage 4 Cancer patient who's coughing up blood in their hospital bed, you still have the chance to make it.
Yet you feel like the guy in the other room currently having the end of his life signaled by one long beep and a matching horizontal line, except...
You.. Aren't dead.
The numbness and lack of energy caused by a chemical imbalance in your head are just the symptoms of your slow decline into the same nothingness that becomes of the old man with a heart failure that they couldn't revive, bring back to life, no matter how hard they tried.
And your fake smiles are just as broken hearted as the little girl with leukemia's who's trying to reassure her parents they'll be fine without her.
And those days you will yourself out of bed...
Those good days you don't let the thoughts in your head control you... Are just as important as the days the man with the new prosthetic leg tries to walk, despite not knowing how as an amputee.
You... Are strong.
And those days where you can't get up, where you can't eat, where it's doesn't feel like you're strong... Those days are okay to have. Those are the days the mother with breast cancer breaks down and cries for herself instead of just her kids. It's okay to not be okay sometimes.
But
You're strong
Even on your worst days, you're strong.
Because you're still here and you haven't given up.
Stay Strong, Beautiful.
You can do this.

we used to intertwine legs to fall asleep

now, my feet restlessly search for yours all night

sometimes i think about killing myself
i have these roots and stems planted within me
but i only let the roses blossom on my skin
this is what is acceptable
you can’t start a conversation with “hey, i might hurt myself today”
i don’t know exactly where things got away from me
i can’t pinpoint the location where i fell apart again
all i know is it seems like it’s getting too hard to pretend that everything is okay
i started therapy again yesterday
there is a part of me that thinks there is a way to get better
there is a part of me that knows there isn’t

On occasion, I operate on my brain and an obtrusive thought passes: open up the obsolete vein in your thigh to see if it overflows like an overwhelming, outstanding extraordinary waterfall honoring the oversights youve made in this life.

Suppose it will be as satisfying as spring water and cool, crisp cucumber sandwiches chilling as the sun cascades over your kitchen counter.

Time elapses quickly, quite a quandary for you and your quirky personality. Quilted patterns and quoted artists acquaint your spirit with your quiet mind.

Formidable female figures can never forgive filthy forefathers, fate, and fatal mistakes. Fear feeds the friendly folks.

Gargantuan giants grill geniuses with great minds. Gratefully we still gather and give to unknown gods.

Blue veins leave blurry lines that blend into bland, barcoded, and broken borrowers of time. Bleeding out baseless blame and burden.

Never have I had the nerve to admit the necessary notices of life. Non believers of negative energy nurturing unknown denial.

Time will tell tales of torment. Terminating trust and triumph alike. Traumatized troopers just trying to get by.

Dormant, dying, deadly thoughts enter dangerous domain to doom me diligently and indefinitely. Doorways to damage control demolished.

Poor person has been patient but painstakingly pretends the perilous pain doesn't persist permanently. Punctuated by poking prodding piercing pressure in the chest.

Maybe she can mosey along moping through multiple mondays and mournful mornings. Making the most of each merry day

Apologises spoken
A voice that used to be a token
Straight to her heart
Letting the fire start
But they were both so broken
Their poems where their feelings were wrote in
Two angry, hurt souls
To nobody else they would disclose
Their well-kept feelings
For such a short time they were sailing
Then she saw straight through the smiles
And saw the inner, lying child
She's still bitter
Though he's apologized to try and make it better
She's afraid to respond
Knowing her anger would overcome
Any logic that might be there for the start
But she's bitter and hurt, and she feels it through to her heart
She's moved on with someone who doesn't tell her empty words
She truly loves him, which she has come to learn
She just needs to move on from the past
And now she finally has happiness at last

I kept punishing myself for not being whole after four years
But I didn’t realize that if I never spoke about it
I was never going to get any where in my recovery
So I finally began the process to victory
It is one of the hardest things I have ever put myself through
I am grateful for each tear I am shedding
Because I know they get me one step closer to being new
For every panic attack and punishment I have done to myself
I apologize for not beginning my path to recovery sooner
I am a work in progress and I am getting better

To impeach or not to impeach: that is the question
To bar myself against his merciless beliefs
Or to deal with a worse evil by the name of Pence
His speeches of deportation and his turning of the laws
With his tiny hands and orange face is deplorable, despicable!
The destruction by the racist himself to LGBT+’s civil rights
Has wrought havoc for the transgendered, has instilled fear into us
To impeach or to keep
Pence, a sidekick, a partner in crime to the man in question, a worse evil
Hatred of us, boiling beneath his republican skin
Conversion therapy becoming an option, scarring and scaring the youths
Homophobia on the rise after the biggest triumph for us
Laws passed in June of 2015 no longer holding meaning
This man spreading his opinions to the new generations
To keep Mr. Trump would save us from a meaner man
But what would save us from the man who helped make America racist again?
There’s misogyny, bigotry, and racism filling the office
Violence, arrogance and white supremacy filling our country
Supported by Russia, the KKK, and racist republicans
Trump has taken this land into violence, fear, and hatred of one another
He has made public shaming against those with disabilities appropriate
And his voters have accepted this America as a great one
People are beginning to revert back to their prior nativism views
But to us Pence is a worse evil
Threats, pain, and fear still running deep within our communities
Shootings, violence, and property damage are just to name a few
Running rampant in our communities, egged on by this Vice President
Though Lord Voldemort may be terrible
Behind him is a line of Red Racist Bigots to replace him
Due to this, the Evil Man will have to be kept
And impeaching cannot take place

my body

heartbeats like footsteps pounding up the stairwell
desperate, as though frantically and passionately running towards a lover, this body

my body

wound so tightly, heart on the edge of a cliff ready to jump
the only thing reminding me I am alive as it pumps blood through this body

my body

snaps, reacts like a whip cracking through the crisp air intending to enslave us: mind, soul and this body

my body

wired, as though plugged directly into an unstable outlet charging electricity throughout this body

my body

curves, no, mountains, creating a flesh terrain cultivating life carefully crafted by some heavenly being, this body

my body

miracle of childbirth, life emerged from love and two bonded souls leaving valleys and canyons of stretch marks on this body

my body

a temple to be cherished, yet it is degraded every day as pain is numbed and the soul is muffled inside this body

my body

picked over by perverted people, imprisoned; locked in an all out civil war against itself just to survive in this body

my body

strength and resilience as the brain mends itself, it has never been weak; only made to believe that it is nothing more than this body

MY body

chasing after a vision
that never existed
perceiving the world as it is or it isnt
viewing the truth and the lies as they're twisted

what a world that we live in

Mommy left when I was young
But daddy never cared
And I don't know what's worse of the two evils
Because daddy let my skin bloom in violet stains
But mommy...well I guess mommy was mentally deranged
I learned from a young age
That I'm the only one I got
So if you thought
I needed you
I don't because I've fought
For my spot
With everything that I got
And you're not the only one who's lies I bought
But I've learned
Trust is earned
And I'll never give it away again
countless times I've been burned
I'm exhausted
From everything it's costed
I'm done
You've won

We never learned to tell time because the clocks in our school were all broken.
There were kids desperate for a high, all in the bathroom smoking.
A football player grabbing a freshman's *** and telling her to chill....he was joking.
All the girls nowadays are into choking.
Our self worth based on all the time we never learned to tell that the guys spent talking about our *****.
The time spent cutting all of our classes
to go see the boy who thought we looked better without our glasses.
Time spent being humliated by him in front of the masses.
Beginning to lose ourself and thinking our self worth amounts to ****.
Thinking to ourself, "I must deserve to be hit."
Sweetie please remember, you're still just a kid
Nobody in high school feels like they fit
We're still learning to tell time on broken clocks
as misery and insecurity begins to knock
our set mentalities from society being a block
from the reality we live in that never ceases to shock

P.M. 7/18/17

Our names identify us
Last names connect families
Names can mean leaving a legacy
Some names are fun and bubbly
Some names leave our lips fumbling
Names can spark harsh memories
Or the best moments of our lives
Names can give us a sense of belonging
Or leave us with some feeling of longing
Names are versatile
Easily changed or worn for a while
They are gifts given to every newborn child
Names are kept on each and every file
They give you your particular style
So whether you've changed your name
Or kept the one from birth
You're always just you
And your name was who you were first

movement makes it hurt less
take some deep breaths
you'll get through this
it's not the first wave you've hit