He tells me
You are my perfume
and I will wear you around
So that I will seem better
to other people
And when you run out
or simply bore me
I will toss you aside
and find something better
then lavender and
this sadness
That wafts around me
like the scent of smoke in fabric
and pulls me down
like a lazy sunday morning

when we were younger,
he paid me two dimes and a slinky to kiss him on the lips,
but he doesn't know I would have done it for just the slinky.

I have a secret
I can do it again
Peel my skin back
To reveal my bones that rot like fruit

I can do it again
Let my lies open like shells
To reveal my bones that rot like fruit
Feel me and pray for my release

Let my lies open like shells
Kiss my wounds, wrap me up
Feel me and pray for my release
I am nothing but this skeleton

I have a secret

I.
I should probably get some sleep
3am is not a time for pouring out sorrows onto paper
The morning is too young and the stars too bright

II.
I should be dreaming of
blue eyes and summer nights
Instead I am writing of old heartbreaks
and drowning in my fifth cup of coffee

III.
My mother reckons I should get some sleep
When she finds me in the morning
Lights on, slumbering into the warm keyboard
And grocery bags under my eyes
Big enough that I stumble trying to lift them

IV.
I should probably get some sleep
When my thoughts start to get obscene
And I am dialing numbers that I shouldn’t be
But sometimes I find it difficult
To lie down in a peaceful rest
When I don’t know if there’s anything worth waking up to

I often wonder how people write decent love poems
For my attempts I’d classify as
mediocre.
How do write about your eyes?
The way they avert my face
And sparkle in another’s direction
That particular pain is hard to express
But for somebody as rejected as I am,
It should be simple
To moan about hands I will never hold
And if I manage
To ***** those lines out in ink
There will always be someone
To reassure me that love is out there
But how can I believe that
When I have taken myself apart
Brick by boring brick
Just to recreate myself as somebody even worse?
Now tell me,
How does one write about that?

you called me beautiful
and then hid from me
like a child
eager friendship
was turning into a
wildfire of feelings
not at the least bit lustful
and I have never not been lustful
I always thought it was just another
permanent flaw in my
stained and crumpled being
but you proved me wrong once again
and called me beautiful
a word that had meant nothing to me
until uttered
with a side dish of hysteria
and a sprinkle of angst
but then why did you run
from something
that should have at least sent me
scrambling away
like a deer caught in the light
maybe I trust you
maybe you don’t know how to trust
I didn’t think I did either

I saw sparks
When you entered my life that hot August day
They flamed up with the fireworks
That shot from my heart with its every beat

You saw thick thighs
And in some cases that’s not bad
Every woman needs curves, right?
I had too many

My personality shrunk with my body
I was no longer alive
Just a shrinking mass
Heavy weight trying to float on water

I saw a fire
When I looked at myself in the mirror
My body the smoke
But there was no flame, unless you stuck your arm in

You saw my shrinking flame
And blew on it
Because oxygen fuels fire
But we exhale carbon dioxide
Now there is nothing left to shrink
Maybe it’s for the better

I.

I fell for blue eyes because they looked much like my interior
And with broken glass still littered at my feet,
I was not in a position to let you catch my fall
Your arms would have been greeted by
Black and blue skin, dim eyes

II.

I became more than a skeleton
My cheeks were bright with
Blood pulsing under my skin
But you were like a fish in a river
Moving downstream and onto greater things
While I tried to follow, but could never catch up

III.

She came down upon you like a hawk
Carried you out of sight
And I was left with only a memory of your grasp
Words left unsaid etched on my lips
And even when she dropped you
You catching the wind like ashes
I was not enough to extinguish her flames

IV.

My whole being tells me to let you go
Because you will always leave me waiting
But I can’t give up on your carefree smile
Endearing eyes that promise me the world
When I look up into them
But my heart broke out of its chains long ago
And felt its way towards you
The moment it awoke from its slumber

It was dark
I scaled the walls
Feeling them with shaking hands
Laughter was heard from outside the door
Probably my friends messing around
Unaware of my absence
I’m conscious of hands on my sides
He said he wanted to talk
What an odd way to start a conversation.

I could see the outline of his face through the dim light
Knowing that behind the shadows
Were the coffee eyes I melted in everyday
I could feel them pulling through the haze
Slowly closing as he pulled my waist to his
And then soft hands on my cheeks
Pressure on my lips
Hello foreign tongue,
Nice weather today
What an odd way to start a conversation.

My eyes were wide open
And I know that’s not how you’re supposed to kiss
(Not from experience or anything)
But I couldn’t grasp the situation
Years and years I had been waiting for this
It was great
Made my heart flutter in all the right ways
About half way in I realized
That back of my hand was a very bad kisser
But at least it didn’t drag me into an empty fire escape
What an odd way to start a conversation.

After a few minutes I pulled away
Lips tingling
I could feel the blood rushing to my head
Swinging my vision in violet loops
I looked up and could see him finally
My eyes adjusting to the gloom  
He smiled and stroked my hair
‘I thought you wanted to talk’
‘You should have seen that coming’
‘Maybe’
What an odd way to start a conversation.

I wish I could forget
your hot breath on the back of my neck
my hair tangled in your fingers
the pain of it all
as I walked away that night
in the dark, slipping under the fence
back up the stairs and into my bedroom
tears on the pillowcase

I wish you could help me forget
I felt warm in your arms
my soul laughed for the first time
since it had been taken by strong hands
but I can’t always have what feels good
sometimes all that’s left is the suffering
and this weight that presses me down

rooms full of people feel empty
on the inside, I’m empty
I look in the mirror and see
this inhuman horror looking back at me
blank eyes, he took me
he stole everything from me
I’m a walking body but I cannot feel
I **** the life from the loved ones around me

I should not rely so heavily
on others to bring me back up
I am tied to the brick floor
costly to carry me back home
under the fence
up the stairs, my bedroom
bruises on my chest
faded color in my eyes
let me forget, I can’t see

I can’t breathe, I can’t think.

i could never tell you how I feel
all I can do is hope
that you sense it in the way
i drape my arms over your shoulders
and rest my fingertips in the crease
of your spine
how you hold me close,
but I hold you closer
and that may be a sign of weakness
the way I need you like
the full moon needs the sun
to shine bright
but behind this shield I’ve built up
is the tools to take it down
maybe that’s what you’re looking for.

I held you in the palm of my hand
I held you in the palm of my hand and I closed you in
I closed the palm of my hand
and you were nothing but the dark I had forced upon you
I may have bled from every crevice of my being
but it was too late
I am met by sour words and unforgiven last chances
you were the sun and I showered you in glass
now we are no more

you were on my lips
you were on my lips and I pushed away
I pushed away all thoughts of you
and I was nothing but this mass of
guilt and deathly notions infesting my head
I infected everything I touched
turned your skin green and your eyes red
while my pores were clean
I am walking termination

we were almost okay
we were almost okay and I let you go
I let you leave me like everybody else has
and that blame reeks in my skull
burning through my blood
tearing out my eyes and leaving me as
crippling devastation on legs
I wish I could relieve the pressure
I wish there was somebody here

you told me you didn’t love me
I was too much of a friend
it was
and I quote you: weird
but,
how is my love anything but pure?
is it wrong that I see oceans in your eyes
and stars in your smile?
you may find blood on my palms and
broken glass in my eyelashes
but all the same I still feel for you
all your life you have felt for this
and these
and what
and who
and when
but me
            me
                 me
nothing
            nothing
                       never!
           I respect your bones like they are my own
           I would hold you like the sky holds its breath before the storm
           I could tie strings in the separated parts of your skin
     but

it’s too weird
my everything is ultimately your nothing

I’m not sure why I’ve been alone all this time
things started out almost vibrant
but I’m afraid you made me lose my touch
because for the past three years I cannot feel
I am nothing but this decaying carcass

I see love flourish around me
ringing of bells, hums of holidays in the air
I stand alone
and watch flushed cheeks
herbs hung above doorways
scarves wrapped tightly around throats
but all I can feel is
what I cannot feel
the only witness
my breath that hangs in a mist

this is not an illness that haunts me
but instead the undesirable traits of my being
like icicles hanging from rooftops,
I am avoided and knocked to the ground
as shattered reminders of
something that won’t melt
something that needs to drip down the drain
but is instead frozen to the pavement
and kicked aside by somebody
with warmth flowing through
thin veins and
a naïve heart

saying I am a little offended is an understatement
for years I have stood by your side
and watched the **** you let carcass your skin
send shivers through your bones
who in the end break them all in half
and pile them back into my arms again
where I rebuild, restore, reform
but you destroy, demolish, devour
each time
but eventually
I never gave you back
to the souls who feed on your essence
like a power outlet
and I am told I am in the wrong
that I cannot play the heroine in this light
that you don’t want to feel my hands
that my breath for you was in vain
and it ******* hurts
and I want to rip
and tear
and leave
this life behind
because even when I am needed
I am still utterly not wanted.

where do I go from here
alone, afraid
craving your arms and not knowing why
is this feeling as real as
the sun so bright?
or is it just snow melting on my flustered cheeks
its substance dripping off skin like
the way your eyes waver from mine
but I cannot catch it on my bare palms
because while this loneliness swallows me whole
being a part of something more  
would leave me just as ruined

this love holds a knife against my throat
and cuts ribbons into my skin
with every lingering thought of you
is my love a sin?
is my sole purpose just another flaw of my being?
crimson blood upon white walls spell it out
not in my native language, of course
I guess my heart will never know
if I was just meant to be ****** in the hands of this curse

ultimately,
we would be tragic
but I cannot keep my thoughts off this temptation
even though I don’t know if this is what I want
and you could easily crush me
between your fingers
because I am as small as
a spider wafting along the breeze on a thin strand
of who knows what
practically nothing
that’s what I am
that’s what we are

who am I?
the monster hiding in the crevices of your mind
itching underneath your skin
and pulling hair out strand by strand

who am I?
a river through your hometown
the one you would stand in as a child
and scream as loose shards of glass cut your feet

who am I?
your flashlight in the dark night
shuddering and going out
you leave it there laying on the pavement

who am I?
the old guitar in the corner of your room
dusty and out of tune
but so full of nostalgia that you can’t let it go

who am I?
a blade across your skin
blood in the bathroom sink
bandages hidden under sleeves

who am I?
a best friend
a lover
somebody you never needed

somebody you won't give up
somebody you need to give up
somebody who told you that better things are out there
somebody you never could believe
in the first place

why do you stay?

I can only swallow so many pills
until I begin to choke

my life can no longer be dictated around
eight hundred milligrams of motrin
one tablet of carbamazepine
a few muscle relaxers
who’s really counting anymore?

the pain can only get so much worse
before I drop and never get up

this fire in my cheeks, teeth, temples
MRI scan comes up blank
just my blank brain in my tormented body
unexplained agony
unexplained kicking and screaming into the night

friends complain about period cramps
i would trade my pain for ten years of those

can’t eat, tired all the time
this is not depression I suffer from
but side effects from various medications
that enter my body in periods of six
and haunt my bedside table
as if watching me as I sleep

I want to feel better
I want to feel better
I want to feel better.

how are you
I’m good
I’m fine

how are you
I’m numb
I stare up at the ceiling sometimes
to think about nothing

how are you
if I told you
you wouldn’t believe me
so I say nothing

you made me promise
to tell you
when things felt upside down
but they don’t.
I just feel empty

some days I don't even realize
how badly I’m bleeding
until I wake in a pool of my own
thoughts
sometime’s that’s worse than the blood.

I prefer wounded skin over a wounded mind
these thoughts are more than teenage angst
there is nothing angsty about it
there is nothing teen about it
it’s simply the rotting of my mind
cellular decomposition of my optimism

how are you
my every breath is weighted
most days there’s no escape
but no, I’m fine

but no, I’m not fine
cut me from these ropes that tie me down
loosen the chains around my ankles
give me a moment of peace in this misery
give me a moment of feeling through the numb

this is me telling you that I'm letting go
months of emotions running dry
have led to my unrelenting disinterest
and you'll tell me I'm selfish for it
but we both know that it was bound to happen
my love for you was toxic
and eventually turned to waste
but you didn’t want it
even when it rested in your palms

this is me giving you honesty
that years of cutting edge realism
are flourishing in my mind like a disease
and I am realizing things I could have never imagined-
for in the end I was not your moon and stars
and that’s alright
instead I was my own galaxy
eight planets and all, but in the end just a speck
in the epitome of universe in your eyes

this is me saying that I am no worse or better without you
we both bled from our wounds
but unlike you I have already licked mine clean
and begun draining into other sources
this is not like me,
for usually I tend to roll in the mud I create
until I am encased in my everlasting remorse
but like you’ve said before, I have changed
and while we grow apart I wish not to be bitter
nor sweet, for we were neither
generalizing our relationship
is insulting to its legacy

but I still wish to be remembered
as something, as anything
don't let me become a blank space
we were written in pen
long strokes of dark ink
that seemed endless
and now the paper is torn
bits and pieces
of what once was
bits and pieces
isn't that what we both are?

Days with you
Are like hot chocolate
On a cold summer night
Days like this shouldn’t exist
I guess that’s why they don’t
The phrase
“you and I”
Is a reality my heart has yet to hold

Years with you
Are like a broken clock
Because I can never seem to catch up
With time
That always evades me
Within numbered days
Since I’ve first started this chase
That leaves me old and worn

An eternity with you
Is like the ghost that sleeps in my bedroom
It doesn’t exist
But I always seem to feel its presence
and leave the light on for it
and if it shows its face
I will have to assume that
reality has finally turned around.

it has been a year since you touched me
and within those blurry days left in between,
I have learned myself
right and left, up and down
and though it was hard,
the black and blue parts of me have faded
to the pink flesh native to me

the days pass quickly
and I learned that healing is possible
but I can admit,
my scar tissue still burns with the
mere thought of you
any breath I take can easily become shattered
my inhale coming calm
my exhales leaving ragged, panicked
I am still under your advantage

three hundred miles away
from you,
from that dark night in the backseat of your car
and still, there is not one moment where I forget
not a night that doesn’t cease to scare me,
and I hold my arms close to my chest while I walk
hoping that enough compression will
prevent the blistering of my insides  

you haven’t left me yet.
I remain haunted,
and you are worse than any ghost
more fearsome than any demon
but please, upon reading this

I AM STRONGER THAN THE HORRORS YOU LEFT ON MY BODY AND MIND.

weight in my head
weight in my chest
i am on all fours

i am dying but not externally
my brain sends chemical imbalances
like daily mail

i shouldn’t be alive

my body is a mistake
my thoughts are bound
to send me to an early grave
the air always feels so thick

suffering is invisible
i look in the mirror,
see it in the ghostly reflection
of my eyes

I am only half a soul

don’t be afraid
of the dark
but that is all that is inside of me
unknown, cold and unbearable
most days i wonder how i’m loved

monsters are only tamed, not encouraged
it’s a shame that i groom myself down
to not show the impurities that crack me open
and leak out onto the floor

look at my shaking hands, am I alive?
is this a dream?

please wake me, please cure me

some days I feel I'm too full of emotions for
the disconnect we share
physical bluntness leaves me empty
and often intrigues yearning for more
in the middle of the night,
pillow held tightly to my chest
I long for the romance that is being loved

some days it all comes back and hits me
full force, I am not strong enough to stand against it
I can’t close my eyes without feeling your hand
on the back of my head, forcing me
down down down
I often wish that phrase was only a metaphor
maybe that’s the source of my disconnect

some days I feel passion so deep
others I wake up cold and roll over
to pull the covers back over my head
the pain of it varies day to day
no day is the same, the anger fluctuates
I wonder if I’ll ever recover
until then,

I don’t know.

if i had known what a woman
tasted like earlier in my life
maybe i wouldn’t have
encountered so many **** bitter men