we always had fun
throwing darts at each other's backs

trying to make sure
something would stick

and I guess we got comfortable
sneaking out of windows
and
sharing each other's hearts with everyone except
each other?

and who knew that seeing you stripped bare
meant meeting all of your ghosts

seasons start and end on your name

fall is coming
and all the leaves have turned a different variation of the color of your eyes

"I came for the first time since you"

and i don't mean the last time we hooked up in your car

i mean the last time we made love under sunset skies
the last time i tasted you without dirt in my veins

i'm begging you to cleanse me
and dress me in your love

I imagine getting high with you tastes like kerosene down my throat
like numb lips curled back in a halfway kind of smile
like trying to figure out which of these corroded veins will bleed best

I imagine getting high with you like 19 hours of switching between who's on top
like teeth on any flesh you leave exposed
like how many shots does it take for you to tell me you want me

I imagine getting high with you everytime I close my eyes or I see blue webs played out in the back of my hands
I need it like something terrible

I imagine getting high with you in snapshot moments and **** they taste so sweet but not nearly as much as
kissing you sober

I’ve tasted real love

I stopped getting drunk
because your lips
were enough to make my head swim

and the only times I was getting high
was with you

I didn’t have to hide
besides
you heard all my bad jokes
a hundred times over

and you still laughed
like it was the first I told it

I’ve tasted real love
in the softness of your skin

I don’t need another girl’s body
you were enough

I’ve felt what it’s like to be in love at 4 a.m.
and when you dropped me
I felt what it’s like to shatter

I won’t bother with the broken pieces

I’ve tasted real love
and baby
that’s all I wanted

the world would be a better place if

growing up I didn’t have to fight myself
on whether loving her was worth losing everything else

if it didn’t take years for me to come to terms with it
and finally admit what I was
like being gay is something I should be ashamed of

if I hadn’t got the easy end of it all

if day by day kids weren’t losing their homes
cause daddy didn’t like who
they were bringing home
and

if not every LGBT was a suicide risk
but there isn’t any bliss
in trying to hide your scars

the ones on your arms or
the ones in your heart

cause
not everybody understands
that just because a man loves a man
doesn’t mean that love isn’t anything but pure

the world would be a better place I’m sure

if just because I love a girl
didn’t mean it was the end of the world

it has been months since i have seen your smile
or heard the way you say my name

i walk through your office
every morning before i leave for work and i almost understand why dad is trying to run away from this house
it hasn't felt like home with you gone

i slept in your bed once and i was engulfed in memories of you
the way your hair smelled lying next to me here
but that was years ago

i'll be twenty soon
that will be the first birthday i ever spend without you and it is earth shattering having to stare across the table at your empty seat

how tonight
you couldn't keep your hands off me

and i got to tell you
i love you
over and over
and over again

tonight is the first time in 45 days that I have considered calling to ask to shoot me dead (EVEN WHEN HE CALLED ME TO SAY HE COULD GET ME HIGH AGAIN)

I WANT TO DIE BECAUSE SHE DOESN'T LOVE ME LIKE SHE USED TO
but even more because I don't love her at all anymore

I NEVER THOUGHT I WOULD EVER HAVE TO FEEL LIKE THIS AGAIN
you said you could only love me sober
BUT WHAT DOES ANOTHER KEY TAG MEAN TO SOMEONE SO ******* DEAD INSIDE

YOU CRIED THE LAST TIME WE KISSED
and I didn't want to use behind it
BUT I CAN'T TELL YOU HOW STUPID I FEEL BECAUSE I STILL DREAM OF THE WAY YOU USE TO PRESS SMACK INTO MY WRISTS

AND HOW ******* **** YOU LOOKED WITH MY BLOOD STILL ON YOUR LIPS

and maybe this has more to do with the fact that you only ever made me feel lonely
AND I AM PERFECTLY CAPABLE OF DOING THAT ALL ALONE

so this is about the next time I don't answer the phone
and you can thank the rig on the top of my book case

i reread every poem i could find tagged in my initials

you keep saying i love ****** more than you but i tried to die when you left me and i tried to find you when i stopped getting high so what i think you meant to say was

you're scared

i mean how many times can you watch someone **** themselves before it in turn kills you

i never stopped wanting you

she will never forgive me for picking ******

she says the *** is the best when i'm still shaking
says she hasn't seen me need something so badly since i met her

says i broke her heart for a dub of dope

like twenty dollars could ever replace her

this is not an apology

I’m sick of saying “sorry”
when I take my clothes off for you

my body is beautiful
even if you never said so

I’m sick of saying “sorry”
for knocking back the bottles
harder than you knocked me around

this is not an apology

I don’t owe you anything
hell I never did

I’m sick of the sorries
because my lips were too slow
my tongue too fast

my hands never met the speed of your measure
the tick tick tick of your metronome

I’m not sorry for walking away
when this was only ever one sided

this is not an apology

and I am glad you’re gone

you are worse than ******

what a compliment, that you could so easily **** off all the good left in me with just a taste

*******
****** was sweeter than you, vinegar and baking soda and something worse than death

I never missed you for a second
I never missed you at all

I forget about your name on my skin and she never mentions you

she kisses the back of my neck before she falls asleep every night and it is almost like you never existed at all


you wrote on my bedroom wall so I moved my bed, she wrote over it

the only times I think of you are to wish you were dead
I wish you felt the pain it was to be with you

but more than anything I feel sorry
you will never know what it is to have my heart

this is not an apology

I’m sick of saying “sorry”
when I take my clothes off for you

my body is beautiful
even if you never said so

I’m sick of saying “sorry”
for knocking back the bottles
harder than you knocked me around

this is not an apology

I don’t owe you anything
hell I never did

I’m sick of the sorries
because my lips were too slow
my tongue too fast

my hands never met the speed of your measure
the tick tick tick of your metronome

I’m not sorry for walking away
when this was only ever one sided

this is not an apology

and I am glad you’re gone

the universe doesn't recognize your suffering
and my dead mother doesn't care that I am bleeding
or that I am empty, save the sadness in my throat
BUT IF SHE WERE STILL ALIVE
she'd sit me up on the counter next to the sink
and pour peroxide on my skin knees
(that I got the moment all the air left my body all at once and I came crashing into reality)
no, if my mom were here
she's wrap me up in all the blankets in the house
and make a fort out of the couch
and give me glasses of ginger ale
because it's supposed to help with stomach aches
but it's my heart the's hurting
so how do you remedy this situation?
because I don't remember the last thing you said to me, Mom
and afterall
it feels like I will bleed for an eternity

most days
i say i'd rather be dead

i wake up with migraines a lot
maybe because i'm always screaming in my sleep

and i'm constantly shaking
but i'm never cold

and i'm trying so hard to get comfortable

my insides feel like they're rotting

and the truth it
i just want to be in control

maybe i'll just **** myself

i hate that i let other people touch me

i do not feel mine after
and i hardly feel theirs

i hate how good she looks so
sometimes she catches me staring at the wall

i **** her because she tells me she loves me

and she tastes sweeter than the last girl

and she stops when i ask
and so she feels safe to me

and i almost feel mine again

and i want so badly to be hers

my ex girlfriend is still the only girl I think about kissing when I get high
and I've been getting high a lot recently but I can't tell her that

so we don't really talk, but a girl I really like thinks I sound **** after two nights of staying up shaking
and puking until I've reached my lowest weight since I got sober

and the girls at work like me around but hate watching me scratch
my brother asked me if the scratching means I'm shooting up again but I haven't touched a needle since the last time I had ***
and boy has that been awhile now

but I guess needles are the only things I think about kissing when I'm sober
so it shouldn't be too much longer before one sneaks its hollow tip into the side of my wrist ..or the top of my foot

and my boss asks if I'm still drinking too much to be considered something other than dependent
and the truth is, I dont remember most of the time
if I'm still stopping after the second glass
because I'm always so tired and I'm always asleep by 5 p.m. but I'm always waking up sick from something

I can't tell if I just forgot to eat or if I'm crashing or if I miss you

I hope that I dont miss you, but I think I do
don't I?

I think
trying to imagine

the look on my mother’s face
if she ever found me with a bullet in my head
the gun in my hand
finger on the trigger

is the reason I am trying so hard
to stay

I think
being the reason

someone hurt like that is the only reason I’m still here

but in those moments
I am so lost

it is after the pill bottle is empty
and my wrists are open

that I see my mother’s face in the back of my head

it is after my eyes are closed
and I do not feel

that I remember
that I cannot do this to you

but it is too late
and I am so sorry

I think
hearing my father’s voice crack
as tears flooded his eyes

when he begged me not to do this to myself

is the reason
I came home alive

rather than in a casket

because I am so afraid of what would happen

how a man who already drinks himself to sleep
would cope

with the death of his only daughter

but it is not until
I have already swung from the rope around my neck

that I hear him pleading

but it is too late
and I am so sorry

I think
that even though I feel alone
more days that I can get out of bed

that there are people who love me

people who need me and
I do not want to leave you

but I cannot keep waking up to this

my heart is heavy and
I hurt all over and

I’m tired of begging the world to stop spinning
I am too dizzy to stand here any longer

and it is not until my lungs collapse

that I know I love you

but it is too late
and I am so sorry

what the hell was i thinking
you were the one tearing me apart
but with empty promises
and a smile to match
i let you try to stitch me back together

you've never been very good with your hands

i'm breaking at the seams
you're no ******* good for me

TW: suicide is not the answer
but strangely enough
right now i can't exactly recall what the question was

so maybe that's just how we'll do it tonight


TW: i stopped cutting when i was sixteen but then my best friend ***** me and i slit my wrists wide open when i woke up still high off the roofies she gave me
so actually
i stopped cutting when i was seventeen

and that's only because i met ******
and she taught me a different kind of numb


TW: i'm 170 pounds again and i think about throwing up every time i see a picture of myself or look in the mirror
and i wouldn't want to puke so bad if i could just stop eating but i can't even do that

so tally that one on the list of things i hate about myself


TW: it wasn't enough that i was a ******
i had to be a ******* "******" too

which is funny because despite what everyone keeps saying i really don't want to be a boy at all
i just want you to stop associating the word female with feminine
and stop expecting me to do my eyebrows or care about how my **** look in the shirt i'm wearing


TW: suicide is never the answer

but i'm just so **** sick of being sad
and feeling like i am suffocating but wishing that i actually was

but i already felt the ground slipping out from under me
and the walls are getting a little too close to breathe
and i can't tell the difference between tripping and just a bad dream

somebody wake me up

I was 16 the first time a boy I trusted threw the phrase "I love you" like a hand grenade

"boy", because my mother taught me it doesn't matter whether real men wear pink as long as they are gentle with these vital pieces of you
calloused hands can still be soft
it all depends on the way they touch you

and in fact, I was 16 the second time too.. a different boy, bigger than me like the first
he didn't struggle to nail my hands to the boards beneath me
maybe because I was never strong enough to left his knees off my chest
Or maybe there wasn't much fight in me that day either

I didn't cry when I woke up naked in my best friend's bed that same year
And I didn't cry when they kicked me out of school because roofies sounded like ****** to their ears

so if I say their names out loud who am I giving the power to? is it ironic the way he has the same name as your father.. looks strikingly similar to a man who has never ***** me, just ripped his own daughter's heart out when he didn't stop someone else from doing the same to her

I was old enough to know better when I started going home with girls that only fed me pills in the shape of their lips
it was my own mistake when I started kissing strangers the way I kissed whiskey bottles

I was 18.. she told social media it was the best *** she's ever had.
19.. her hands aren't even calloused but I've never felt skin so rough
20.. I'd rather be in jail for the rest of my life than explain to my therapist that you weren't taking advantage of me if I'm the one who led you up the stairs

I am casual in the way I mention the finger shaped bruises they left on my thighs and my wrists and the rope burns around my heart after I tried to hang myself when I couldn't catch my breath after the weight of his knees on my chest
I promise that this are not things I dwell on
these are not memories that I am still bitter or angry over

and in fact, it wasn't until I recognized that it was my voice that has been screaming all this time
that i was even willing to name you.

i'm getting bad again

I'm only afraid of waking up alone

It's 2 a.m. And I'm high for the first time in I can't remember how long and you're asleep in our bed and baby we're home and I'm not afraid of anything

i do not write poetry

there is nothing beautiful about her suffering

nothing beautiful about watching her tear herself into pieces

she treats pain like some kind of game

she wants to know
how small she can become

I don't miss getting high when I'm with you

my whole life all i’ve known is silence
shut up. get up.

don’t open your mouth
don’t close your hands

don’t make him think you’re fighting back
don’t you dare fight back

quick tongue don’t mean nothing
‘less ya got hands just as quick

in my house
threats are met by fists

and you can pray all you want
cause in this house
words don’t mean ****

unless you’re soft..

but belts and beatings never hurt as bad
as my daddy sayin’ he’d rather be dead..
than wake up every day with me as his kid

She doesn't write anymore
not since before me
(and you can call that cocky if you'd like but) she's not the same
bitter sweet with nothing sweet about her and desperate for something that sounds like it did before

You
God you sound like symphonies (and I was never really one for classics but)
I can feel my skin come alive with the way you say my name
and of course I will see you through this

After all
I love you

if you drink enough ***** it tastes like

regret

like all the nights you spent bent over the bathroom sink
tears running down your face when you can’t seem to catch your breath

like rust and blood and bile in the back of your throat
razors on the counter and a half cocked gun in your hand

like not sleeping because you’re too busy screaming at the sky
begging the moon to bring her back

like breaking bones on promises like “forever”
tearing open your chest searching for some part of you she might’ve left
but finding nothing

if you drink enough ***** it will not taste like love
and it certainly will not taste like her

if you drink enough ***** it tastes like

regret

like all the nights you spent bent over the bathroom sink
tears running down your face when you can’t seem to catch your breath

like rust and blood and bile in the back of your throat
razors on the counter and a half cocked gun in your hand

like not sleeping because you’re too busy screaming at the sky
begging the moon to bring her back

like breaking bones on promises like “forever”
tearing open your chest searching for some part of you she might’ve left
but finding nothing

if you drink enough ***** it will not taste like love
and it certainly will not taste like her

i can almost feel your hands on me
hear myself begging you to stay
this time
it's suddenly so much harder to breathe
watching you walk away
come back
because i am so sick of waking up alone

this is for thursday morning
tangled up in bed
we left our clothes on last night
and i was almost high enough
to tell you i love you

this is for burnt wrists
and i know it stings in the shower
sometimes i am too afraid to even hold you
how pathetic

but you still kiss me
like maybe one day
we'll be okay

what does 47 days without ****** in your veins taste like?

like trying to explain to every **** person that you meet that you're not sick anymore
it just takes time to put the weight back on

like my girlfriend moved out and left half of her things behind
and that was ten ******* months ago
and sometimes when we **** in her backseat
i recognize my t-shirt on her floor
and so i'm still wondering if that means "i miss you"

like i think i'm way too over-medicated but everybody keeps saying "fixed" like i'm okay and i know i'm not

because my girlfriend left ten ******* months ago and i still have her t-shirts in my closet


and i bet you think that means i miss you, I don't.

Isn't it such a relief that I can show up 40 minutes early to work every single morning because
I'm not out chasing my next high 10 minutes after I roll out of bed

What an achievement that when I hide in the bathroom nobody misses me because
1) I'm not even on the clock and
2) I'm not spending 20 minutes figuring out which of these abused veins will take my ******* with out talking back to me

Doesn't it **** that I'm here again
On these tiled floors
Cold and sick to my stomach
But at least this time my heart's still beating! And every one notices the bright blue tattoo on my forearm before they ever mention the needle point I've been sewing into the crook of my elbow for three years

And it's sad sad sad that I can almost see the look on my best friend's face when she pried my lifeless body off of these same ****** tiles

But today I'm just wishing I was
I'm not really high these days
So at least it's not that

except you called me names and slapped me hard and it didn't feel like making love

except for when we kissed and suddenly i was drowning

you're ******* other people and i'm trying to pretend like that doesn't bother me
he hurts you when he ***** you and you come curl up in my arms for safety so how can you tell me he loves you more

or that you love him

we made love again

even if it was angry and rough
we still made love
over and over and over again

every time you looked at me

because for some reason still unseen to me
conversations with you are still so aggressive
like ripping petals off of a daisy
praying to god this time you'll love me

haunted houses
and not the ones on television
and the only ghosts that scare me
are the ones that carry my face

i swear i've died more times than i can remember
in the arms of girls that made me feel safe
and i cringe every time they try dig up my grave

and i'm not afraid of *******
but there are reasons i stay sober when i'm not alone
i'm more afraid of greedy hands
and everyone who never listens when i say no

she is a thousand shades of beautiful

she is everything all at once

she is terrifying and i think she knows it

she is my favorite song after a coke binge I COULD NEVER GET TIRED OF THE SOUND OF HER VOICE

she is staying up for the sunrise but never waking up that early because

she is everything i was too afraid to say

she is infinite shades of beautiful
and she looks fine as hell in every one
and she don't even know it

You, sobriety, are my longest lasting relationship.
Even though I'm not exactly sure where we fell off.

YOU, ex girlfriend, are not really sober if you still smoke **** four times a day. **** is still a drug, whether or not you treat it like medicine.

And yes, alcohol (in the minds of those who matter) is still a drug, whether or not I treat it like medicine.

And no, this is not the long way of telling you to quit coping the safest way you know how. But stop telling your friends that you're better than me because at least you have some clean time.

The thing is, we both know what liquid ****** tastes like.. mixed with blood and running from the bee sting in the crook of our elbows. So please stop thinking you're better than me.

At any rate, at least I'm not breaking the law anymore. No one is going to send me back to jail for the six pack I keep in the fridge.

Today could've been eight months. And I will admit that it does make my stomach turn thinking about how much I'm willing to give up to feel whole again.


Hey, ex girlfriend, I hate the way **** smells mixed with your perfume. That's the reason I don't come around much these days.. but I know how much you hate the smell of whiskey on my breath so maybe that's why you don't seem to notice

thinking too much
and not enough
losing my tongue in all these empty thoughts
my stutter
hits me like a ton of bricks
and suddenly i am thanking
..something
for the crushing weight of my jaw
i am so sick of listening to myself try to speak
it is embarrassing
trying to tell you how i feel
my teeth keep getting caught on things i'll never say
my fingers drum almost as fast as my heart
i only got high to feel normal
but i like the way you make me feel different

How can

I ever

Get you to understand.. I

Have never felt so

fire hungry
ate up all the gasoline

our spark died fast(er than you'd believe)

you see, my hands shake
and i've broken most of my teeth
and i lose weight like i lose sleep
and my eyes are open but this still feels like a dream
and i don't know how to wake up

winter is coming
and I am lonely
without you in my veins
I am not whole or
happy

winter is coming
and the air is cold
without you in my lungs
I cannot breathe
or smile

winter is coming
and I can’t sleep
my bed is empty
without you in my arms
I do not feel right or
safe

winter is coming
my first winter
since you left me and
my heart feels dead
because
it no longer beats for you

feel like

biting my nails too close
and stubbing the same toe
over and over and over again

except a lot ******* worse

taste like

bile and stomach acid

and my throat ******* burns

and i can't tell if it's ever going to end
or if i just have to get high again

i liked xanax
because it helps me sleep
but now i have nightmares
and i wake up screaming

something about shaky hands
and the way your fingers fidget when you're nervous
warm skin flushed red with
things you didn't mean to say
out loud

i sniffle back tears
and something bitter
my hands shake
and my heart beats fast

i think i love you

or i'm just high again

the blood in my mouth
tastes like the way you use to tell me you love me

feels more like
closed fists

I wasn't kidding when i said you spit ******* acid
I can feel all of my humanity melt away
along with the skin off my cheeks

tell me how much you miss me

I make myself sick with the way i don't love you anymore

I hate the way you grab me like you've got something to prove

the blood in my mouth
tastes just like you