She began to paint one night,
Never having taken a lesson in her life.

She didn't know what she was painting,
She didn't really know how to either.

But she picked up a brush,
And began to speak.

Her bristles spelt out words,
Her colours make the canvas scream.

The works she had done before spoke the stories of her heart,
The tales of her memories.

Anyone who had seen her canvases saw genius,
Saw light.

But when she looked at them,
She saw nothing.

She knew what they meant,
Each story embedded in her brain.

Her pain, and her hurt,
There for people to critique.

And the paint she used,
Seemed so bare and bleak.

She had been so desperate for colour,
She had tried to draw it from her skin several times.

But no one knew,
And no one ever would know.

Because in the end,
the only colour she really wanted to see was black.

Because these greys she saw as she stared at her work,
Told her she would never be able to understand how beautiful her words were.

The water edge draws me,
Calls me.

It has many times before,
Until I was pulled away.

The ocean stares back at me with deep blue eyes,
And speaks in soft careless whispers.

The waves lap at my ankles, Kissing my feet.

The sensation is overwhelming,
The freezing cold water calming.

The water entwines it's fingers in mine,
Taking me further from where I could stand.

Every touch is gentle.
Every cell of mine begs for more.

I'm dislocated
I'm alone

So far out,
My mind is stolen.

No coherent thoughts,
Just the cold breeze tenderly caressing my cheeks.

Then I dive in once,
The feeling of nothing addicting.

And I smile as I drown,

Knowing I'm never coming back

Declare your love for me

In the changing wind,

So even if I am behind you,

I can still hear your confession.

My heart is like a broken bone – it could be fixed, but will it ever really be the same as it once was?

Now,
I don’t believe it can be fixed anymore.

I feel like the sunset in black and white - losing the colour from my life, all because she never wanted me.

It’s as if she- the sun- has burnt out and left me – the blue moon – without a drop of light to warm me and bring back the colour I had lost from being alone.

If the stars were to align the same way, then there could be a beauty like her, but then without her smile, there are no stars in the sky, no light in my heart, nothing to look for in the lonely nights that push me to the ground over and over again.

If I were to look up from the stab wound in my chest, it would be to see her hand at the hilt – a devious smile painting her face with all the colours she has kept hidden from the world.

As the blood from my heart drains to the ground below me, I would drop to my knees, and paint the ground in crimson - my last colour left.

My blood would paint the story of my love for her, before my life is stolen away from me.

And yet the true irony of it all would be the love I hold for her until my last breath- and not even then would my feeling fade.

Long after my life has ended, my heart would still belong to her. It would still yearn for all the intricacies of her being.

Pandora’s Box has released itself on my heart, tearing at it as if it were a hungry lion attacking a peaceful gazelle.

I am forever drawn to her, as if my soul was trapped in her eyes.

The gods have turned against me, making my shadow grow, letting itself bleed through my veins and into my soul.

A soul with no colour should not be a soul at all.

I am forever burdened with no muse, no passion.  

I am a lone wolf, destined to lose my life without a love in the world.

No one to care for, no one to remember in the long nights.

No one.

she stared of into the morning sky,
watching the delicate birds fly.

they were so peaceful in the atmosphere,
left her wishing that she wasn't here.

blood stained her scarred wrists,
her hands forming clenched fists.

her knuckles were bruised and harshly beaten,
and all day, she'd hardly eaten.

there were tears in her eyes,
those as blue as the skies.

her hollow chest held a heart that hurt,
a heart that had been thoroughly stomped in the dirt.

there were anchors in her lungs,
that she'd had since she was young.

as she stared into the midnight skies,
there were tears in her light blue eyes.

the birds flew past the window sills,
and that's when she took one too many pills.

she was everything
you weren't,

she cared
when you didn't

i trust her
with things i'd never tell you,

she holds me
so tightly, unlike you,

she understands when i can't speak,
and she doesn't push me.

she is amazing,
but that's why i'm so scared.

because those were the same things
i once said about you.

When I was little, I found myself seeing my blood a lot.

I would slip, or fall, or graze my skin.

It was always the times I was having the most fun.

Scars came over time, and each one of them meant that I had happy memories before they occurred.

Now when I see my blood,

I'm no longer okay with it.

I have new scars, and with them,

I can only remember that I used to have happy memories before they occurred.

I knew a man once,
One filled with life.

He spent every day passing flowers to strangers,
Spreading joy through soft spoken words.

All who met him left with a smile,
And all who knew him found fondness in living.

But as the days moved on,
People began to change.

He was told he had to be emotionless to be strong,
and fearless to be flawless.

He was pushed around by the wicked,
Banished into the darkness.

Everything he worked for wasn't worth it anymore,
And he felt his heart hurting every second he lived.

So now he's no where.

And I don't know how to get him back.

temporary happiness is ruling my life,
with each empty bottle scattered through my room.

leaving me in ignorant bliss
to what i had been feeling before i swallowed.

it's all a haze,
before and after the liquid.

all smiles,
before and after the pills.

dancing dreams,
in the midst of the smoke

i haven't slept a wink,
or maybe i have.

it's so dangerous,
to live in this fake life.

but the intricate workings of my mind
aren't allowing me to let go

of this
temporary
mundane
imperminant
fleeting

happiness

Ultraviolet, you're so quiet.
Pretending that your thoughts aren't violent.

Ultraviolet, you can't hide it.
Screaming help, you can't keep silent.

Ultraviolet, you're colour blinded,
Black and white, your mind's decided.

Ultraviolet, please try to fight it.

I couldn't live without your light.

He screamed into the night, believing no one was listening.

He cried out of fright, his eyes dark and glistening.

His thin wrists continued to bleed, razor sharp cuts made clear with crimson.

His heart begs to feed, far from the sorrow he lives on.

His mind told him to never wait, no one would search for him.

But his mind knew not of fate, and there was a light in the dim.

There stood a girl - willing to fall in love, and there was a boy - about to fall apart.

And then came the tale that all were in awe of, where they shared a broken heart.

staging my thoughts to stage my mind,
to tell everyone that I'm doing fine

though I'm about to fall apart
because it was only hope in my hopeful heart

the hope of the world, one that understands
where the waves only crash down on golden sands

it's stupid to think that someone could care
for someone who wishes they weren't even there

so i'll pack my bags, and leave it so
who would care if I had to go?

Forgive the scars on my legs, arms and knees,
Mistake them for the joys of childhood and take them as nothing but scratches.

Forget the blood on my hands,
Mistake it for my fall that must have happened because I was clumsy, not dizzy.

Forgive my uncovered bones,
Mistake them for my genes and not the food I never eat.

Forget the skeletons I hide,
Mistake them for a trick of the light that hardly shines into my room through my old curtains.

Forgive my tired eyes,
Mistake the sleeplessness for eagerness of the next day, keeping my thoughts alive throughout the night.

I shall remind you of this every day.

But I beg of you, my friend.

Notice of my fresh scars,
Don't take them as nothing.

Remember the new blood,
Don't leave me to help myself up.

Notice my ever present ribs,
Don't let me push away my plate again.

Remember those ***** skeletons,
Don't allow me to hide what hurts me so terribly.

Notice my teary, tired eyes,
Don't smile and pretend you don't notice how much I've cried last night.

I know you're scared, my friend.

Of saying the wrong thing.

But anything is better than nothing, my friend.

Please.

I need someone to help me.

One second goes by when you turned me away.
One second I cry because of you just today.

One second is slower than an hour with you.
One second was all it took for us to be through.

One second they smiled like a wolf at a sheep.
One second felt like a drastic leap.

One second goes faster through every day.
Because of one second I had without you in May.

Your eyes were shut for more than a second.
And the cold of those seconds were all that beckoned.

I was told that you would be gone for longer than that.
My heart had been torn like a mouse with a cat.

One second of hurt felt longer than years.
One second and I was brought to tears.

One second the bullet had shot through my head.
If you were one second faster,
I wouldn't be dead.

i've never felt more alone then through the days that my cheeks are streaked with tears.

i've never felt colder than the days that the rain bats against my windows.

i've never felt more poisoned then the day i first heard you laugh.

i've never felt as much pain as i did the day you left me.

and i've never felt more serene than the day i died

Memories hurt when they are the memories you wish to forget.

There are sometimes small reminders,
every-so-often,
as you go by your day.

You never know what it could be,
but when you see it,
it hurts.

God, does it hurt.

Of course,
if you’re unlucky,
Those reminders are pictures.

And if a picture tells a thousand words,
One is too many.