Broken body bound together by brittle rubber bands.
Little girl picks up the pieces and they crumble in her hand.
She puts the bits together of whatever's left whole that she can.
Compress the bits to make me stand.
Still standing,
only showing half of what I am.

I fall in love with every person that I meet.

the heart beats whether we want it to or not.
it beats while we sleep,
while we cry.
it pounds while our fists do the same
against each others walls.
trying to break something down.
our hearts beat us til the day we die.
the rhythm is seemingly perpetual once you notice it
and only when our time is up does it stop.

when im with you
i know im alive.
my heart feels as though its going to beat
right out of my chest
and into your hands.
it seems as though thats its true home.
you hold what beats me most
so i beg you to be gentle, lest it breaks.
i know thats cliche but you see,
this beating that i take every day
is all i have to keep me going.
its all i have to remind me im alive
and when im with you
it flutters uncontrollably
and im left doubtless
that this isnt a dream

For the first time
In several months
I have felt an emotion
That isn't resent
For another human being.
I am thinking of one of
My truest friends.
One of my main confidants
In all of life's turmoils.
And this emotion is sad.
I am sad because she truly
Believes that her path is set,
That this is the only way.
She is self loathing and she is sad.
She is brave above all else
But she is also a coward.
I wish more then anything
For her safety
In these approaching times.
They will not be easy
For anyone.

If you still care
Don't ever let me know.
If you forgive me
For breaking your heart
And for leaving you behind
In that ****** town
Of addicts and death
Don't ever let me know.
I'm coming to visit
During the bitterest month
And if you see me
Don't say hello.
I'll never forgive myself.
I'll never let you know.
I'll always love you.
I'll never let you know.
I'll never let you know.
I'll never let you know.

I remember back, to the time when I was numb.
All the way back to one of the darkest times in my life,
I remember the face of the boy who shined through my darkness.
I remember the first person to make me feel again.
It was one of the most excruciating things I'd done... feeling again.
You were like the ocean, and I, a grain of sand.
It felt like you ripped me out of my comfortably miserable little beach
and swept me out into your sea and proceeded to drown me.
But you had no idea of the effect you had, you were just being the sea.
I remember the first time I met you, my gaze swept right past.
And then you spoke.
You made me laugh, and it hurt to laugh but it felt so right.
Even on my darkest days, you'd be there to make sure I could smile again.
You'd always do everything you could to pull me out of my pit.
You became my best friend and I fell so hard, oh how I fell.
That's what hurt.
I wasn't allowed to love you as I'd wanted to.
You had your girlfriend and she was so sick and she needed you.
I watched you, dying to make her better.
You didn't sleep. You barely ate.
I noticed the etches on your wrist and my heart shattered.
There was nothing I could do for the boy I loved.
I wish there had been something I could have done for you and for her.
It's been years since I last saw you.
I still think about you all the time.
I don't think I could ever forget you.
The one I couldn't have.
The one I should've had.
We would have been so good.
It's funny..
I know you loved me too.

Sometimes I get one of those nostalgic feelings rush through me whenever I get a whiff of fresh plaster or spackle. It reminds me of all those times my dad would have to patch up another hole in one of the walls. At one point he would only do it once a week. When you know that there’ll just be more the next day, why not wait a while and fix them all at the same time? Eventually he stopped fixing them altogether. I used to think it meant it was okay and that when I got angry enough I could just put a hole in the wall too and add to the collection of broken bits of my family. When my parents discovered the accumulation of chasms in my wall, my dad made me learn how to fix them because I was not allowed to react the same way as my brother. Needless to say, I rarely put my hand or foot through the walls after the first 2 times I had to fix them. I wish there was some way they could have managed to get my brother to fix the voids he’d created. Perhaps, he’d have learned how much the damage you inflict can affect those around you. I know I certainly did.

I remember hiding under an old cherry wood dining table. I remember holding my baby sister, shielding her eyes, covering her and trying to tuck her away. Pulling her as close to me as possible, like I might be able to fold her skin into mine so she wouldn’t have to see what was happening around us. I can still hear her crying into my bony 7 year old shoulder and whaling amongst the chaos with the bitty 4 year old voice that she had at the time. I remember the heart stopping feeling of watching my mother get thrown into the wall and watching my brother, 11 years older than myself, hurtle the beautiful antique silver coffee *** that my grandmother left us- into the space near her head where it bludgeoned the wall. I remember barely being taller than the table myself and pulling my sister out when I saw a chance for us to escape the scene and run into another room.  I remember turning around and seeing my older sister, who was 10 at that time, running up and hitting and kicking my brother and getting shoved to the side. I’ve grown accustomed to the headaches I now get at the sight of flashing police lights.

Today would have been a year for us.
After we parted
I asked you
if you would remember.
You had no idea what day it would be.
It never mattered to you
because every day we were together
was just as important.
It still bothered me though
because a year is a long time.
We didn't make it to here
because I had to go.
I still love you.
Happy would be one year.

I know I shouldn't turn to you for anything,
but my dear I need to ask these of you.
You are a garden.
Please, please
Don’t liter it with self doubt and cigarettes.
Do these things for yourself, at my request.
Do not settle for someone who doesn't deserve you.
Love yourself, first.
Love whole heartedly.
Remember how much you matter.
Realize how loved you are.
Recognize your brilliant mind.
Use it and go to school.
Learn, learn, learn.
Be brave no matter how scary it is.
Don’t lose faith in people.
Learn to distance yourself.
Learn to grow toward something.
Eat a vegetable once in a while.
Hydration is key.
Develop a healthy sleeping pattern.
Learn to talk to others about your problems.
Don’t bottle everything up.
Learn to ask for and accept help when you need it.
Don’t be reckless.
Think before you act.
Think before you speak.
Don’t brood.
Count the stars when you get sad.
Take time to center yourself.
Learn to accept when you're wrong.
Take pride in your accomplishments
even if no one tells you how proud they are,
remember I am always proud of you
even from 2000 miles away.
Get as far away from the toxic place you call home as possible.
Avoid confrontations.
Don’t ever drink and drive.
Eat less fast food.
Give your all into everything you do.
Take every failure as a lesson to do better in the future,
Don’t ever get into hard drugs.
Spend time outside.
Travel.
Stop being so picky with your food.
Try new things.
Respect your mother.
Forgive your father.
Forgive yourself.
Forgive me for leaving you there.
Please as an old lover and a friend I beg these of you.
I never meant to leave you there.
I am so sorry.
I love you so much, still.
I never meant to leave you like that.
Please forgive me.
Please love yourself.
Please love again.
Please move on from me with ease.
I am having a more difficult time doing that even though
I was the one who ran away from it all.
Please be brave for me.

I haven't written in a while.
I feel thrown off.
I'm in this mode where my ability to
write how I feel
has been cast off.
My mind is filled with Manson playing
in the background of this coffee shop
in my new city of Austin.
And all I can write about is how
I can't write.

Sometimes it's not always morbid.
Sometimes I write when I'm happy.
Sometimes things make me feel good enough to write about them.
Those times are rare,
and right now is not one of them.

you make me need to write

how did i think i would feel about it?
maybe i just didnt expect you
to tell me so soon because im
still not fully okay but your
moving on much quicker
then you said you
were going to..

It took me nearly 8 months.

8 months down the drain
all because i couldn't see
that you didn't really love me.
you used me and
you lied to me and
you put me down and
you made me feel insignificant.
you told me you loved me
and at first
i made you more nervous than anyone ever has.
you made me feel like i meant something to someone.
you made me believe
i wasn't by myself in this world.
all the while,
when i was with you
i never felt more alone.
you never cared about me
or what i had to say
or how i felt or what my plans were
or what i wanted to do
or where i wanted to go.
these past 8 months I've followed you around
like you were the most important person,
because to me you were/are.
we always went where you wanted to go
and did what you wanted to do
and you always had some kind of complaint or argument.
i don't remember a day  
i didn't get an attitude from you
or something wasn't my fault
when i was only giving you a solution.

8 months of this before i realized you were a liar.
you never loved me.
you told me once
that loving someone and being in love with them
was the same to you.
you never loved me at all.


i'm moving half way across the country
in 6 days.
and you blew me off yesterday.
and i haven't seen you in 3 days, as is.
and i'm not going to see you again for a long time
and you told me you didn't want to lose me, even after i leave.



you're losing me.

The other day
I stood atop the old psychiatric center
and stared at the sky.
I marveled at the stars
and how close I felt to them,
while I was 12 stories of abandonment
and insanity and torment high.
I couldn't help but truly feel the
stars were like scars etched into the sky.
It made me think of the patients
who were left to rot
in the building I was standing on.
They looked so alive, yet
they were already dead.

On the surface:
Porcelain skin,
lightly freckled face.
Long auburn hair.
Brown and green flecked eyes.
5'9, thick thighs, tight waist.
This is the girl you fell in love with.
The girl in front of you.
Just what you can see and feel and hold.
You did not fall in love with what is underlying.
Numb to most, angry with others.
Careful.. Never one to rush things.
A fan of perspectives.
An interest in different characteristics.
Curious about every little thing.
Inquisitive, kind.
A raging internalization of anger and frustration
and sadness.
Foundation ready to give out but she wont let it.
She patches up each new crack.
Lost her mind long ago
but never faltering her grip on reality.
It's tattooed on her.
She can't escape the harsh truths.
One being, people only see the surfaces.
Never digging even the slightest.
She's seen many lives lost before it was their time.
She's given up long ago.
Taught herself;
No one can be saved if they wont help themselves first.
Removed herself from
they who claw at the ankles
of people to be dragged down alongside them.
She holds her head up high when she feels herself sinking.
All alone, right beside you.
Always there when she's needed.
Never to have anyone hold her hand
or tell her she's strong.
She doesn't need to be told.
She knows that to survive what she has,
she must be anything but weak.
She will laugh in the face of the antagonist,
smile and ask how their day was, truly curious.
But you only see the surface.
She's just a pretty face.

You say you love me.
You don't know my biggest fears.
You know my favorite band.
You know my favorite color.
You don't know my dreams.
You don't know my greatest struggles.
You don't react when I tell you
I lost my virginity by force.
You basically tell me it was my fault.
You say you love me,
You say you love how I feel
when you're inside me.
You say you love my eyes.
You say you love my ***.
You say I'm ****.
You tell me to turn that **** off
when I put on a song that
makes my heart sing.
You criticize my ideas
and make me feel stupid for
even thinking in the first place.
But it's okay right?
You said you love me right?
I believe you, right?

I pray for your happiness,
when I'm gone.
I truly hope you develop your relationship
with her.
The one, who I believe, is
the reason you don't talk to me
like you used to.
She's beautiful.
You're already good friends.
I know she's had an eye on you
for some time now.
She can have you.
I'm done.
I will never stop caring or loving you
but I want you to be happy
so I'll stop trying.
I'm leaving anyway.

Why is it that,
now that I've found someone
who loves me,
I'm throwing them away?
You're the first to love me back
and the first to have me
completely enraptured
and I love you.
Oh how I love you..
But thats just it.
You're the first.
These are my butterfly days
and I will love again.
I am not your first love.
Someone else once held your heart
like you hold mine,
and crushed it.
In time you healed
and you will heal again
for I will recrush your rebuilt heart
because I'm leaving.
And mine will stay in your hands
until you throw it far away.

"Eyes like a car crash,
I know I shouldn't look
but I can't turn away"
Staring into my soul
are the headlights of on-coming traffic.
Just this morning,
you fed your niece breakfast
and spoke to your commander
about your call of duty
and kissed your mothers cheek.
You left your home
with things at peace, calming
a storm inside you.
Just like everyone else.
You make your way to your car
in the rain.
You hear sirens in the distance
and say a prayer for those effected.
Unaware that moments later
those sirens will be heading
toward your now battered body to
try to save your life.
But they didn't make it.

Today has the same chill to it
as the one we shared a century ago.
We shielded our fragile skin
in scarves and mittens
from the icy wind.
In a mere heart beat,
I came to the realization
you were going to leave me all alone some day.
We walked leisurely down Cardinal Lane
as you puffed on your Parliament.
We spoke of the world around us
and how it would crumble.
A conversation so vivid.
I recall I asked you
what you would want on your grave.
You told me with solemn demeanor
"Nothing, but a weeping willow."
I should have left you when I had the chance.
Now here I stand
with a sapling in my hand.

That laugh,
shakes like the demolition it's encasing.
Constantly used to hold back screams.
Used to reassure people shes fine.
A smile plastered on her face accompanied by
the laughter she practiced and mastered.
An artist of emotional controversy.
She is a mastermind of biting her tongue-
coming to terms that her silence is golden.
When you hear her, hold on tight to her words.
She will drill right into and past your heart
directly into your bones.
Her finely composed hostility will stay with you
forever.
That smile that could crack diamonds
never falters.

I feel myself being pulled in every direction.
I don't know what to do anymore.
The girl who has all the answers
is breaking under the microscope.
I realized the other day that I lie to myself
more than anyone else.
"Everything is fine.. I'm fine.. really don't
worry about me.. how are you?"
I'm lying.
Everything's not fine.
I'm not fine.
Worry about me.
I don't care how you are right now.
I'm ******* dying.

You always said your favorite part of me was my eyes.
Brownie batter with toffee bits.
Burnt, from living hell
and reaching to the sky
in search of heaven.
You hold my heart,
I hold my soul.
One is more important to me
then the other.
One you can keep, it's been long dead.
The other is infinitely alive.
It's mine alone.
I won't share this little piece of me.

I'm pretty sure you lied to me
yesterday, or rather
last night.
That was definitely too important
to lie about.
Now I have to be wary
this month.
Not ready for a kid.
Wish you would tell me..

I'll flick you away like my cigarette ****.

Burnt out.

Stop
                  Dragging
       Me
                           Down
              With
You.

I said your love was the biggest lie I've heard.

You said I was the only girl you've ever loved.

Why did I do that?
Why am I being so cruel
to you and myself?
I shouldn't have let that happen.
I said we were done
and I meant it.
So why aren't we done?
I'm such a foolish little girl
and you're my heart beat.
I love you.
I hate you.
I love you.
For everything.
****.

Right now my problem is
I can't stop reading all of
these beautiful poems.
The issue here, is
I need to shower
and have a life.
I'm absorbed.
Send help!

we spoke for the first time since..
and you're still hurting
and its killing me.
you're not understanding why
this is the right thing.
you don't want me to leave,
that's understandable.
but i'm not staying and you know it.
i miss you and you miss me but
this can't happen.
i'm so sorry.
i'm so sorry.
i'm so sorry.

I was offered a part in a movie

Can you even act?
I questioned him
and his response startled me.

I act every day*

It was such a simple, twisted answer
that I understood
better then he will ever know.
He opened my eyes to
such a brilliant wording for
how I too felt.
I looked at his mangled face-
stitched up where he tore it open,
above his right eye down across his nose.
I pondered how I could
know a person forever, yet
have them be a complete stranger to me.

I found your love letter today. I couldn't open it.

Silence like the inhale
before the exhale
of the ex-pianist
who lost his arm
saving his quadrant
from a land mine.

A moment of silence
for the men and women
who gave their lives
for a country of ingrates
who never offer any words of hope
or even a silent smile.

The silence of a mother
brushing her daughters raven-like hair back behind her ear.
A mother who had to beg for one last moment
to memorize every freckle and curve
as well as every pore and eyelash.
The silence of a final embrace.

A smile, quietly plastered on
to hide the screaming youth.
The silence before nervous laughter
swallowing back shallow sobs.

The silence of a wolf stalking its prey
before a bullet enters its brain from behind.
And the silence of the pups
watching from a distance.
Then the clamor of the gunmen
ecstatic with their catch,
falling silent only seconds before
the tortured howling and cries
from the orphaned beasts
surround their sub-conscience
for the rest of their lives.

You prepare for the worst
like a soldier in a war zone.
You crawl forward, testing every inch
in fear of being blown to bits.

I grasp you
by your thorny body.
I bleed.

I hook my fingers
around your beautiful petals
and pull
and you crumble.

This time
I dig you up
by your roots
and anchor you
within me.

The growth of a child-
never accepted.
She tries to intertwine
among her peers
only to be rejected.
So she digs through her soul
to find she is not meant
to be a part of the grid.

The world is the paper.
The torn corner is my world, my life.
It's my town, off the map, on the edge.
Broken, battered, unnecessary and useless.
Pathetic.
We can write all over it but
the more we do,
the less we see.
The less of a point there is
to that torn corners
already meaningless existence.
By the time
there's no more white space,
it's too late.
Another child dead, in the dirt.
An overdose due to a drug deal,
a fix
wrapped in a torn corner of
a sheet of notebook paper.
The dealer knows-
the rest of the fixes-
he throws it out of the window
as a perfect paper airplane
for the children on the street corners to find.
Candy,
they notice
the corner is missing.
It is worthless to them
but the candy is
priceless, precious.

I said "Everyone is too selfish"
while searching for someone
to complain to.
I tried making myself out
to seem like a victim or heroine of sorts.
But I hit a nerve of yours
when I brought up
my urges to pick pills back up.
You told me the saddest thing.
Then more horrors
that you'd been dealt.
I was in shock.
I am so sorry
for being so selfish.

We are molecules
and atoms
on a zit
on the ***
of the universe.
Why do we
make big deals
out of anything?

I have two cigarettes
and a clip
left-
and no money
for more.
****.