every first day of the month is yours.

you’re in the cobwebby corners of my mind.
the hollow parts,
the forgotten parts.
or at least the parts i try to forget.

it feels impossible when so much is a reminder-
of innocence lost.
paranoia gained.
fear festering.
time  u n w i n d i n g.

i hate clocks now.
mirrors too.
i hardly recognize my own reflection anymore.
which me is staring back?
from which time?

you lose yourself when you stop keeping count.

*, 2, 3, 4...

there’s a bittersweet taste left in my mouth.
i’ve tried to wash it out, smoke it out;
flush out the ghosts inside,
but the haunted echoes of distorted voices still remain.

how can i move on when i can’t ever forget ?
how did You?

alone again.
on your own again.
he’s staying,
you're leaving.
but what’s left
behind?
he is.
your hopes and dreams.
your future.
your love.
where are you going that
is more important than those?
why leave what makes you happy
if it only makes you miserable
to leave what you've known
for the unfamiliar?
there are no refunds here.
think about this,
thoroughly.
do you really want to go?
but also:
can you really see yourself staying
here forever?
you come to us for answers to
questions you can’t even admit to having.

sometimes it's hard
just to pick up a fork.
i find myself too weak, arms too limp.
excuses
upon
excuses
piled like a house of cards,
one breeze and i’ll blow away with it.
you won’t be able to catch me,
to stop me,
i can’t even do that myself.

my heart is heavy,
stomach empty,
i still struggle to eat daily but i’m trying.
i do it just to spite those voices in my head  
when i should be doing it for me, but
it’s hard to block them out  
when they sound a lot like my mother.

sometimes it’s hard
just being alive,
hard to get out of bed when
the weight of the world is pressing down on you.
hard not wanting to die
when the sweet release of these demons is all you find yourself
thinking about,
dreaming about anymore.
dreams of floating through the sky
like the clouds passing;
i’m jealous of the way they hang there, gracefully.
i want to be just like them but
i can’t trust myself not to
fall
back
down
to earth.
i’ve done it too many times before.

i’ve got to remind myself that
recovery takes time.
i’ll never unlearn the calories in a raspberry
but at least now i can drink a glass of orange juice
without shedding a single tear.
sure it’s laced with *****
but don’t worry. it’s not a problem
it’s a coping method,
one you might not approve of but one that works, see
over time the scars on my arms have faded.
heart less heavy,
stomach still empty.
well, not completely empty.
but that’s progress right?

i don't mean to sound bitter
but
i hope one day you wake up to realize
just exactly what and who
you gave up on.

all the memories we made,
and planned to make,
slipping through our fingers like sand.
loss engulfing slowly, then all at once,
like lapping waves at my *****;
and i feel that familiar Heaviness return.

drowning in these flooded thoughts and flashbacks of happy memories
that will never see sequels.
i've been struggling to reach the surface,
the constant [online] reminders of
"What Could Have Been" swirling around my mind like an endless whirlpool
of heartbreak and disappointment.

these are all just a bunch of words and ways to say my whole sense of self aches as the time continues to pass.

i try my best not to think of you as
'the one that got away'.
i stayed;
i stood by your side;
i waited.
you're the one who stopped loving me;
you let go of my hand; and
you walked away.

my love, my sweet, this pulsing beat
ringing in my ears
a heartbeat in my stomach
head heavy and  d r a g g i n g
nodding out, nodding off
getting off
she did
who did?
jill, jacking off
hijack my life
jumpstart my words
I am plugged in
ready for the ride
shaking fits, out of control
can't help it
help me
things are spinning X
i guess this is why they call me
blackout girl

hand on the divine
your curves, like italian marble
body as a work of art

not just a woman but a goddess
and i'm down on my knees

watermelon lingering on your tongue
i lap it up in waves

topo chico clinking in the backseat
reminds me of when i found the
empty something-else in your recycling

(sheesh)
how many is it now  
bottles to help you sleep
to quiet intrusive thoughts
and darker fantasy

i accidentally came out as gay
when i was only 6 years old
cuz i acknowledged feelings
for my best friend who was a girl.
a teacher knelt beside us and told me
my feelings were wrong.
(BUT HOW CAN FEELINGS BE WRONG IF I FEEL THEM?)

i anxiously came out as bisexual
when i was 12 years old.
and was met with the same words
i'd been dreading to hear again:
my feelings were wrong.
"you'll grow out of it”, my mother said.
(WELL I HAVEN'T SO FAR HAVE I?)

i defiantly come out as a (bi) lesbian
now at 22 years old.
it’s a long time coming,
long overdue.
i am a bi **** thru and thru.
and i’ve never felt more right.
(I’M TIRED OF HIDING MYSELF FOR YOUR SAKE.)

it took me almost two decades to realize
if i try to live by the standards of others
i(t)’ll never be enough.
leaving behind the agony of perception.
embracing this idea of ‘contradiction’
cuz really, nothing is more confusing than
having to hide this big a piece of yourself.

"i am not just bisexual
i am a lesbian
i am not just a lesbian
i am a bisexual lesbian.

i have had love for a woman
deeper than for any man.
i desire a woman to be my partner in life.
i love women.
i am a lesbian.

i have loved men.
i have sought love where it offered itself.
today i choose to choose a woman.
i love women.
i am a lesbian.

and too
i am bisexual
in my history
in my capacity
in my fantasies
in my abilities
in my love for beautiful people
regardless of gender.

i have the right
to claim my lesbianism
and my bisexuality
even if it confuses you."

it’s taken me too long;
too many years and forced feelings
to let myself be shoved back
into your neat, little boxes
of simple binarism.
there is nothing simple
about being a trans ****.

i am not a woman. but
my time in the shadows
has taught me
how best to love them.

yes, i have loved others
but my capacity
for loving women
is unmatchable.

years of denial,
turns to regret-
fueled yearning for
a love ‘unattainable’

until now.

what a gift it is
to love and be loved by
a woman.

the stench of nicotine still lingers on my fingertips.
i go to scratch my nose,
catch the smoke,
and prepare for the nausea to peak.
but it doesn't.
this time something's different.
i no longer think of my grandfather,
his face wrinkled and worn, his eyes sunken, lying in a hospital bed surrounded by those he loves and who love him.
grieving a life not yet lost.
no.
i no longer think of my grandfather,
but you.
of you and me sitting in your backyard.
the sun soundly sleeping while the moon keeps watch.
sitting with you, i felt invincible.
even with the nicotine flowing through my veins,
the dopamine hitting my brain.
i feel invincible.

darling,
there is no need to be ashamed
of being broken.
there is always a way to
put yourself back together again.
and though there might be
remaining gaps and cracks,
that doesn’t make you
worthless
or undesirable.

darling,
there is no need to be afraid.
you see, the cracks may be
the result of darkness and destruction
but that is not all they are.
they are also what will let the light back in.
they will help to fill you up,
one sunbeam at a time.

you tell me you’re afraid
but what exactly are you afraid of?
are you really so put off by change,
or do you just hate the idea of no longer
having a damsel in distress to rescue?
when you first met me i was as low as i’ve ever been.
popping pills and drinking myself away.
dragging blades across my skin and dreaming of
painting portraits with my blood (as if i could be an artist).
acting pathetic, psychotic, self destructive.
but you fell for me anyway (for god knows what reason).
maybe because you were hurting too
and thought it’d be nice to
focus on somebody else for a while.

so tell me, how’s that been working out for you?

all she had were the memories,
which were fading away.
they left her slowly,
until she herself began
to fade away with them.

she believed that she had nothing,
and so that’s what she became.

head filled with thoughts of knives and blood and tears and the finality of the silence that comes After.

short car rides feel that much longer one-handed and with your mind taking detours.

an empty passenger's seat, save for the bag of fresh pharmacy goods; bandages and pills and the sting of the chill winter air.

the suffocating feeling of being stuck inside all day, except this home is a body and relief is only found in quick, deep successions.

basement flooding with memories of Then and When and Red and we find ourselves to be lost in it all. drowning even.

wade through the murk and discover us in the darkest alcoves of yourself. we hide in the shadows where it's safest, drenched.

it's hard to stay present around these parts for very long without something (or someone) stirring inside begging us to forget the rest.

i wish i had said no to you
i think about it all the time

i can’t let [ it ] go
i wish i could forget
( if i don’t think about it, it won’t hurt.. right? )

i swear i had said no to you
maybe you just didn’t wanna hear it

i can still feel your hands on me
i wish i had made you listen
( pretending something didn’t happen doesn’t make it so )

i took pills instead of chances
i thought i was healed
but this is only the beginning

there’s no failing
it’s a process
slow progress is still progress

forgive yourself
keep going
keep g r o w i n g

hurt as long as you need to
hurt as LOUD as you need to

a girl with a shattered heart
and tear-stained cheeks
found in her room with
slashed wrists
and blood-stained sheets

there's a ghost in the basement
who comes out when it's raining

i don’t know what he wants
but i don’t want him to go

i find comfort in the hauntings
and i hate to admit this

but i think i’m more afraid
of being alone

she'd found a reason to keep going
for the meantime anyways
but the months are ticking by
and I think she's lost her way

see, her eyes they've stopped a-sparkling
and her skin is growing pale
she walks around half cloaked in smoke
and reeking of cheap ale

~

she met a boy
who did her wrong
she doesn’t know
how she’ll go on
without him, there’s something lost
but how can you lose what never was?

miles away
i’m feeling F a r  A w a y…
i see myself and i just float (t)here
waiting to wake up from this fog

things are hazy
curse that **** juice
what happened exactly?
the words are heavy on my tongue…

can’t get myself to spit them out
can’t get myself to speak the truth
can’t get myself to admit what you did to me

out of character behavior
out of body experience

oh
you don’t remember
oh
i’m sorry i’m holding onto things you forgot all about

i tried to use you as an antidepressant
you just used me
i should have left my feelings for you at the door

i wish i had said no to you
i wish i had been given the choice

i’ve got to let it go (but when? and how?)
if i don’t think about it, it won’t hurt.. right?
gotta focus on someday cuz today hurts a little too much

i wish i could stop thinking about this
i wish i could forget you
i wish you could understand that i don’t hate you
i just wish i’d never met you

you may not
believe in god,
but your body
is a temple
and deserves
to be treated as such.

the kind of boy who
has a big heart
but doesn't know how to use it.
who gives to others
and helps them as much as he can
but doesn't leave enough time
to help himself.
who wants to be the hero
but doesn't realize
that you can't save everybody
(especially those who
do not want to be saved).

it is difficult to hide
the scars that are not
branded on the skin.
for there is no sweater
for your mind,
no sleeves to roll down
and cover up
the brutal marks
within.

why cant i forget you
i thought i’d finally put you out of my mind
i don't love you anymore
i wish i could leave your memory behind

i think about you more than i’d like to admit

when will i stop dreaming of you?

will i be homesick forever?

‪uh oh
i'm hearing voices again ‬
‪uh oh
it's getting bad again ‬
‪she won't leave me alone ‬
‪constant chattering in my ear ‬
‪she won't let it go ‬
‪there's too much of me already ‬
‪it shouldn't be this way ‬
‪good girls stay quiet and out of sight ‬
‪the best girls cease to exist at all ‬
‪don't worry though i'm on my way out
almost there
i'm so close i could TASTE IT  ‬
‪(that is ‪if i remembered how to)

February 1, 2014
11:42 PM

i really don’t know how much longer i can do this
you know, this whole ‘life’ thing
i’m barely living as it is
self-loathing day in and day out
i barely eat and when i do i just try to bring it back up
i rarely sleep and the only way my eyes can close
is when they’re swollen and puffy from the hysterical
tears i shed into my torn up pillow

i know for a fact that you can’t possibly
put up with me for much longer
one day you’ll be at the end of your rope
and you’ll use it to escape this
dysfunctional ‘life’ you’re sharing with me
so you don’t have to ever waste your time
thinking about me again
or ever have to waste your breath on me
to utter that three-worded lie:
"i love you"

i’m sorry for being me
i’m sorry for crying all the time
and for making you uncomfortable
with my constant tears and tantrums
i’m sorry for the scars on my arm that don’t fade
and for the mental ones in my mind that might not ever
i’m sorry for doing everything the wrong way
and i’m sorry you fell in love with me
you deserve a good life with a good woman
and you have neither with me in the picture
all i seem to be able to do is make you upset
or make you angry at yourself
please don’t hit yourself again, darling
i saw you that one time when you were in the shower
i know it’s hard being with me
but please don’t take it out on yourself

it’s my own fault i’m like this
and i don’t expect you to fix me
i’ve been broken far too many times
and for far too long
to ever be put back together again
i’m sorry for being difficult and unmanageable
but i can’t help but feel responsible for all your pain
i’m sorry i do this to you time and time again
i’m sorry i make you happy one day only to make you cry the next
i’m sorry i can’t be beautiful and happy like the other girls
i’m sorry for being sorry i know you hate that
i guess i just **** up so regularly that apologizing has become
the one (and only) thing i’m truly good at

there’s somethin funny going on up in this house
check the front, now the windows, see? the lights are out
no one’s home, just us voices, extra extroverted noises
just the other people in your head making you regret your choices
it’s just us bonus mouths to feed and sometimes hands to hold
we hope you hear us when we say this covert thing is getting kinda old

i'm down on myself a lot.
i don't take pity, i take punches.
grab the wall and lean into my emotions, smash through the anger, the self hatred.
that barrier i build around me to fend off (protect?) others only breeds a battle ground inside myself. i need to learn how to break free without breaking me.

i'm still learning how to let go, to forgive

myself

we lie here on the grass;
our bodies in blankets
our lives in a shambles,
staring up at the sky.
the stars, so beautiful,
but nothing compares to the twinkle in your eyes.

we were only kids
thirteen and twelve
you'll never understand the grief you caused--
i lost myself

adrift in a world of nightmares flashing always, never ceasing
you had me on the run
from everything that i was feeling

tracking calories and body weight to regain control
spiraled into darkness with drugs and alcohol

people ask me how i’m doing and i say ‘okay’
nobody questions it; cuz that’s what they all say
only time my words are questioned is when i speak my mind
don’t wanna hear reality, so put me back in line
i wish the whole wide world could know just how i feel
this life of fear and lies simply has no appeal
the voices in my head speak more truth than you
i’m getting tired of always confusing the two
my mind is a haunted house; there’s more to me than meets the eye
body full of so many secrets despite my size

if given the choice, maybe i wouldn’t choose this one to possess
occupying a vessel this anxious just leads to more stress
‘friend in high places’ but the place is your head [in the clouds]
smoking and drinking to quiet us; but trust me you can’t drown us out
there’s more work to be done and words to be said
most talk internally but that don’t mean we’re not friends

something to be said about an openminded guy
with so much personality they started to compile
a collective consciousness sprouting within
took years too long to finally let us in
but here we are, now you know and you listen
at names mentioned, your heart now quickens
beats as one, as we are together
a single unit of several, here for each other
confusing to all but one another
you find yourselves in us

concerned for my future, got my mind stuck in the past
barely made it this far as it is how am i  honestly expected to last
but i made it, i'm here
no applause, please, no cheers
this isn't quite how i envisioned it
not how i pictured it
still fighting for control of my life despite everything

February 1, 2014
10:52 PM

i keep pausing between messages
hoping that you'll come online
and tell me in a rush just how much you love and miss me
but that'll never be the case because
no matter how long i wait
i know you're not coming back
i'm on my own
alone in my head
vulnerable and weak from the constant buzzing going on in there
i do not like what the voices have to say but they get so chatty at nighttime
and it's getting harder to tune them out

i just want to be in your arms
i always feel safe when i'm with you
but you're miles away doing who knows what
though i'm sure thinking about me is not included on that list
you aren't here and i don't know if i can fall asleep
with this chatter in my brain
and this emptiness in my head and my heart and this room
it's all much too big for me i feel so tiny and
my bed feels huge without you here to take up the other half
or to hog the blanket when it gets cold

my thoughts are loud but the voices are louder
and they will keep getting louder throughout the night
i doubt i’ll be able to sleep much tonight
but if i do manage to silence my demons and put them and myself to rest
i know i’ll only dream of you because you’re
all i ever seem to think about anymore
even when i’m unconscious and have no control over
which memories my brain chooses to thumb through

my eyes burn from staring at this screen all day
i really deserve a break but can never find the time
to just let myself be free and happy and simply okay with myself
it’s what i really want and what i should be doing with my time
but instead i’ll just sit here in bed thinking about you
i won’t move a muscle i’ll just hide here in the dark
thinking about you and what we were and what we could have been
dreaming about you during the night and
daydreaming about you during the day
no time to eat or drink or bathe or sleep or breathe or live
only ever time to think and wonder and cry
and write down my messy feelings in
a way that appears to be poetic
but really is ****

Why did i think you could do no wrong?
I was utterly convinced you’d always protect me.
Little did i know you were secretly the monster i feared.
Living with this constant question of
Is it abuse if they love you? if you love them?
Am i ever going to heal from this?
Maybe one day i’ll have my answer(s).

~

People like to ask a lot of questions, their
Invasive prying has me feeling violated all over again.
Eager to learn the details of one of the most painful nights of my life.
Tell me again what you’d have done differently, when you should be
Reveling in the fact that you can’t relate.
Only one person is to blame for what happened and that’s him.

i had a dream about you last night.

i’m wearing mismatched socks.
my face, bruised and ******
my body, slumped
in the corner of the handicap stall.
you’re standing above me
smiling, happy even.

“not happy, just killing time”.
your voice so soft, so sweet
the perfect lullaby
to put me to sleep.
i pass out from your love.

i woke up this morning
phone cord wrapped around my neck.
felt like a noose,
felt like you.
“i didn’t mean to hurt you”
(but you’ll do it again).

cigarettes in the backyard.
crossed legs on the patio table.
it feels like my stomach is filled with acid
and my head is filled with smoke.
you grabbed me and it stung like a bee.
i want to drink ’til i forget you.
i want to get so high that i forget myself.

i’m no angel.
i’m just a little dolly who gets broken easily.
i’m an artist using their own body as a canvas,
razor blades for brushes, blood for paint.
be a disaster with me.
ruin me with your eyes,
fill my soul with *****
and break my bones.

i’m feeling emotionally dead inside.
like forgotten flowers in the attic,
unfilled holes in the ceiling.
i’m hollow.
like vintage television sitcoms,
trap doors in old houses.

the chambers of my heart are filled
with cobwebs and spider eggs.
eyelids swollen shut.
mud up to my ears;
i’m choking on worms.
you’re killing me
but a very muffled “i forgive you”
still manages to escape my lips.

there is no remedy for a sickness quite like this.

do you ever get depressed
not knowing what’s coming next
not able to undo the past
despite your efforts the good won’t last

smoking every day making my life hazy
cuffed in place with these chains of daisies

folding playing cards when i didn’t used to
it’s the little things that make me miss you

the day i was cast out into the world
through *******
they looked between mine
and declared, simply:
“it’s a girl”.

we’re taught to be ashamed
of who we are
that people like me, like us,
are freaks of nature.

told me the body i was given
this body, is sacred.
that i should never tamper with it.
that it’s blasphemous to trespass
on divine territory.

(who knew i could be a trespasser in my own home?)

you point to the sky,
tell me
god doesn’t make mistakes.
turn that finger back on me, on us,
spew ridicule for the ones we’re supposedly making
for merely having the courage to be.

what is it that makes doctors and parents alike
so reluctant to believe that
there are other colors out there
besides pink and blue?

the lines are blurring ––
[**** robin thicke]
this is not a phase.
this choice was not mine to make
(unlike the one you made for me).
don’t tell me who or what i am.

i didn’t climb out of one box
just to be shoved into another.

she's inside me.
sitting in the back of my throat.
i can feel her presence there,
feel her beckoning me.
i reach my hand out to take hers but
she's always just out of reach.

all she brings is pain.
i don't even know her name.
but i love her anyway.

i look at you and
my heart begins to flutter wildly
creating a certain heat inside of me, beneath my skin
my heart swells and swells
until it bursts, ripping my chest open and spraying my guts
against the surrounding walls in a thin layer of glittering entrails

a masterpiece of carnage and gore
practically glistening in the morning sunlight
so dazzling, i barely even notice the smell of my sizzling flesh
as the golden sun rays rain down on my ruptured organs,
transforming them into a puddle of bubbling crimson brew

my legs turn numb and i collapse to the floor
in a pile of bones and blood

oh how you make me MELT .

downing pills; oxycontin candy
she’s going numb but feeling dandy
eyes grow heavy, pulse begins to drop
the silence is deafening
waiting for her heart to stop
the hours tick by with no end in sight
left questioning whether she even did it right

woke up in a tub of ice
no surprise, it’s already happened twice
fingertips turned a pale blue hue
blood stains on the covers spell[ing] out “i love you”
bodiless whispers echo through the halls
broken light fixtures and blood on the walls
open windows calling out to her (me)
urging her on to set herself (myself) free

she plunged her words so deep into my soul i'll never find myself again.
how do you escape the hell you've made yourself into?
trapped in my own home.
no where to turn, no where to hide.
no where is safe from her stone gaze, from the tales of her tongue.

i crave the solace of the blade,
the kiss of the cold metal.
quick, sharp movements
across the savanna of my body.
vintage dress and mangled flesh.
mirror, mirror, what do you see?
"a sinking ship"

your skin on mine;
we lie here

with fingers interlaced
and our eyes locked
then with legs intertwined
and my head cocked
in the crook of your neck

here is where i feel safest;
my skin on yours

in the backyard
lighting up a smokescreen
high on all the thoughts
of what once was and could have been

filled to the brim with these emotions
but i don't feel a thing
how tiring it is to always think so much
and still remain the same

poor girl using her own body as a canvas.
blades as brushes and blood as paint.
to recount her life story
into a single illustration,
before the clock runs out
and the book finally shuts.

the kind of girl
who loves the world
but can't stand to live in it.
who loves to cook
but can't get herself to eat.
who loves to write
but fails to express herself.
because all she feels is 'numb'.

i don’t count aloud anymore.
i can't stand to hear your name,
such a common word.
it doesn't matter the context-
i still go quiet every time.

i used to pick up pennies, called them lucky.
i remember picking up a few
on our way back to your place.
nowadays i don't give them a second glance.
it's not their worth i've forgotten.

they say one is the loneliest number.
is that why you did it?
because you felt you’d earned it
after all this time being by yourself--
that you deserved it?
what about me,
did i?

i remember exactly what i wore that day:
short shorts, a big baggy t shirt.
i haven't worn those shoes since (and i so loved them).
they were these expensive purple velvet platforms;
i'd actually had to beg my mother to buy them for me.
"you better wear them", she warned.
that day i went home with you was
the first time i'd ever worn those shoes.
and the last.
sorry mom.

i'll never think of you as 'the one that got away'.
i stayed.
i stood by your side.
you're the one that let go of my hand.