When I finally broke; I shattered.
Little broken shards, in my tiny glass closet.
Bloodied and broken.
Shaking with a pain and understanding I had never felt.
A brokenness I needed to know.
An understanding of the way it should be.
In opposition to the way it was.
My glass closet door could be left ajar.

Who am I
Who am I to think that it all will be ok.
When my heart is shattered for the first time
A million pieces on the floor
While I stand up confident and smiling
I'm shuttering and in excruciating pain inside

Who am I
To seem put together
To put on that plastic smile
That makes money and wins hearts
The smile that wins; the smile that takes

Who am I
To crush hearts
But when I myself am crushed
Be surprised at the anguish

Who am I
To just want to touch you
To just want to hold you and feel your warmth
To feel you there in my sleep
To once in my life not feel alone
You can run, you can go
Just a moment more with you would be worth a million heartaches and a million bruises
I'm broken inside, but I'd do it again just to kiss that beautiful face and feel ok for a moment more.


And so I drown into myself. My hard controlling self. But I have to breathe eventually. And I come up--gasping for air-- and pooling my tears around me; I remember how it feels to be broken. Then I pull myself down to drown once more. Covered in my plastic suffocation. I am safe. I will be safe. Blissful suffocation

Sometimes I want to scream.
So that my tar clogged lungs burst and this feeling may roam free
Infecting another soul that doesn't wish to be

Who the **** are you
You don't even know
Why tell the world
When you have nothing to show

When my chaos ensues
It's all I can do but create

Please let me scream
Because I just can't be late

I'm ****** to hell for loving a woman.
But I'll exist in hell for loving a man.

They are stale
They are angry
These monsters
******* me in
Forcing me to stare into their eyes
Trying to escape their jaws
The screams, the hate, the fear
You're nothing, you're a facade.
Nothing better than the body you're in
Without it, you are nothing
When they get to know you, then they'll realize
You're boring, empty, awkward
Unable to let anyone get close
Then they'll leave
Fed up with the facade
Because they're better than to use someone in that way
Of course.
You're nothing more than a shell

I’m tired of wanting to let go.
I’m tired of trying to hold on.

Tired of turning the pages hoping for a better chapter.

I have a mug that’s broken twice.
Each time I glue it together.

It’s not worth much, really.

You see though, I wanted this mug to be my mug forever. I haven’t held much forever. Haven’t trusted it’d be there.

When I hold my mug, I think of the warm summer air in Washington when I bought it. I remember feeling like I was friends with my step sisters and I felt like I fit in with my family. I felt invincible and I felt love.

It could’ve been the meds I’d had all week - mom says I’m so nice to be around (but only when I’m high).

Oh my mug, my mug.