I can hear  her yelling out to me. She's inviting me to come closer, to fall into her trap. She's got the eyes of the devil, and the lips of an angel.
She tries to find ways to entrap my body; to really get under my skin. Her hair falls in brown curls down her spiny back. Her bony hands reach up to hold my own, and I'm stuck.
I'm stuck between two worlds. I can't find out what is reality and what is made up. My mind is set on the girl in my mirror. Her red lips gnawing my neck. Her fragile legs around my waist.
She's screaming my name. Mine! She's pulling my own curly, brown mane. She's locking those beautiful lips onto me own.
I blink, and she's off of me. I look at my mirror, hoping she's staring back at me. All I can see is her from behind. She's turned her back on me, and I'm desperate to know why. I reach my hand out to her, but all I can feel is solid glass.
She turns, a smile tugging on her lips, and vanishes.

I had a queezy feeling in the pit of my stomach,
but somehow I knew it would be okay,
and it was.
But then she said she'd have to do a followup appointment,
to make sure it was gone.
That's when I felt it.
My throbbing heart knew,
by some cruel choice of fate,
it would not be okay.
Then I got that email,
I got it at school, first period.
It wasn't okay,
the cancer had spread,
had grown and festered
and was taking over her body,

I couldn't smile the rest of the day,
oh, did I manage it?
What must have that smile looked like?
Did it mask my fear well enough?
   I'm changing my name for a reason,
I'm leaving my life in this town behind,
but there's just one thing I'll miss,
one thing, rather, person,
I'll forever cling to and love.
and that's her.
She raised me.
Not those lying, cruel creatures who call themselves parents,
it was her.
She taught me to drive,
to flirt,
to swim,
to eat,
to cook,
to sing
to do anything and everything.
She's the one I love most.
Please, God, let me keep her.
I can't lose her.
Do not take her so young,
do not take her from
her blue-eyed baby boy.
We have to write a book together,
act in an indie movie,
visit greece,
make videos,
dance,
we have so much to do,


please, God,
please.

Please do not take my sister.

No color but red lips and luminescent green eyes.
My hair flowed into my golden corset dress,
into my pale legs,
to my golden heels,
they weren't my favorite heels, but they were small,
and you were rather short.
    The black hair
you spent hours styling
lay across your face just right.
Black, skin tight jeans hooked
to a plethora of belts, buckles and chains,
complimented by the black and blue shoes you kept
religiously clean.
A checkered, black and blue button-up
with a black and blue scarf laced carefully around your neck.
You carried a complicated satchel by your side so that I could be handsfree
You told me I looked beautiful,
as you fidgeted with the
skull ring I gave you so long ago...

Us against the world,
trailing behind the rest,
Waltzing down the city's streets
arm in arm
clutching a black umbrella
as the rain came rushing down around us.
The neon lights of New York
creating reflective neon pools along
the grungy streets.

Thunder in the distance
and lightning
snapping across the sky.

What a beautiful night,
for perfect seats at WICKED.

What a beautiful night,
for a sushi dinner.

What a beautiful night,
to forget how sick we were,
or why I was mad at you,
or why you were mad at me,

what a perfect night,
to put the umbrella down
and let the storm take over
for a memory
of a time
when we still knew each other.

What a perfect night,
to end our friendship.

There is a line
between
pain and
pleasure.
But when that line blurs-
When the pleasure overthrows
your inhibitions
and the pain numbs your body,
When pain becomes pleasure
and pleasure becomes pain,
how do you know when to stop.

I glorify it.
I crave the taste
of the sickness.
of the disease rippling across my skin,
boiling in my veins
and flowing through my blood.

Is it Healthy?
I love you,
I love it,
but is it healthy
To walk the streets at night
in constant fear
not only of what lurks in the shadows
but of you too.

Anorexic bodies
falling all around us.
Mine included.
Skinnier by the day,
yellow nails chipping and peeling,
grinding of the teeth
to procure a never ending headache.

Pale skin;
cold to the touch
from lack of circulation.
Weak in your arms
an intoxicated mind
and a heart struck through with daggers.

Blasting screams
and beats
to block out the world
and create a throbbing in our heads.
Your freak show;
My guilty little pleasure.

So sick
So satanic
So tenebrific
So twisted
so disturbed
so disgusting
so beautiful
so broken.

cradled by poison,
hold me in your arms,
a monster in the shadows
with thanatognomonic eyes.

With my thanatophobia
You manage to keep me alive.

You do it to feel the pain,
as a confirmation that you're still alive,
But I do it to feel nothing,
to feel all this pain
all these repressed emotions
disappear.

Overall we do it to stay alive,
and shred away
our pitiful sorrows
one by one,
piece by piece.
For inch by inch
we come closer
to meeting the same
fate
of our cold,
useless,
easily forgotten bodies
lying on a metal slab.
Soon to be greeted
by the maltreated Earth.

Heaven is an empty room and God is silence.
Or, in this silence, you are God
and the whole of creation is the thoughts you have
in the silence of this empty room.