I don't really belong
to a particular place.
Making temporary homes
of the people I meet.
Until they fall apart like the rest,
and I fall through the cracks.
*Life moves on without me.

"Where is your heart?"
"I don't know."

---
Countless of times I have left
memories behind on doorsteps,
with bits of dried up feelings.
Because names become a mess
of dust and forgetfulness,
and only prevent myself from healing.
With no words to console my thoughts,
or a way to make it all stop,
I'll only fall from where I stand.
You'll ask me about my heart
why I always fall apart,
and I'll tell you, "That's how it's always been."

It is
frightening
to think
that

my lack
of confidence
will
surely

be
The End
of
me

She's dressing up like an angel,
with wings on the corners of her eyes
and a halo around her neck.
Glitter-glossed lips to lock in a smile,
tightly winding a dress around her hips;
she's dressing to forget.
There's nothing good about a girl who is sad.

And she's got a tremble in her fingertips,
her pulse pressing against her skin
as she stares at the creature in the mirror.
Two dull eyes with a sad silver lining,
and a broken blush upon her cheeks;
she's seeing things that aren't her.
There's nothing good about a girl who is sad.

And she exhales tired sighs,
with failed wishes and last minute hopes,
letting it all die away with the rest of herself.
Because her mother never taught her love,
and her father never showed her what's right;
only leaving her to fall into the dangers of the world.
*There's nothing good about a girl who is sad.

I am a glass,
sitting full on a mattress,
ready to spill across
your linen sheets.
I feel your heart shift,
and it tips me.

I talk about it to everyone,
in hopes that you won't
wrap around my thoughts
like the belt around your neck,
suffocating the life
out of both of our eyes.

Brown eyes
so sad
and
broken

Snowy skies
that reflect
in
them

Too cold
or
too numb
to tell

You slip over me
like a velvet dream
that drives my senses
into dizzy circles,
as you remember
what it is like
to hold me.
I am caught inside
your tender grip,
as you allow yourself to seep
into parts of me
that have missed
your existence.

I'm at war with myself.
My confidence caught in between
a battlefield of destructive choices,
defeating words and deafening voices,
that strike me down constantly.
I'm over taken by armed anxieties,
their vocalities violently shattering
any chance I've had at victory.
My white flag falling at my feet,
as I hear them scream,
"You'll never be good enough!"

I tend to fall for wasted dreams.
Strangers on street corners,
passerbys too good for me.
I would like to believe,
that one day I'll be,
loved by soft eyes
and kissed with honesty.

I miss the way you
took up my empty spaces.
Your words would fill me up
like a well,
that all my contents would spill
out at your feet.
You changed me.

You remind me of wet socks
and November mornings.
A bitter sensation
that leaves me begging
to peel you off my soaked feet.
You overwhelm me.

Your lips are still warm
as you kiss me
with hard whisky
and a drunken tongue.
It's always about how
much you missed me
while I was gone.

I don't know
the stars
as well as I know
speckled dust
on glass

Cause I spend
too much time
sitting on
this window sill

With a screen
between
me
and the world.

I have written to you,
about you,
too many times.
Wasted tired fingers
on honest lines,
waiting for you to realize
you fill up my empty life.

*I'm sick of leaving
blank spaces for you.

You give me premature ventricular contractions.
---

You touch me like a melody;
playing my skin like a silent song.
With your finger prints across my ribs,
and lyrics pressed between our lips,
I can feel you in my blood.