I do this thing
Where I shut everyone out
And then wonder why I’m alone
I do this thing
Where I take my heart strings
And use them to
Sew my mouth shut
I do this thing
Where I write poems on my wrists
Because I can’t bear to cut
I do this thing
Where I force headaches
To crush my skull
Into oblivion
I do this thing
Where I don’t do
Anything

My mother gave birth to a carcass
A corpse who
Ages and grows
But does not breathe
Because the dead can't breathe

I am rotting from the inside out
First my heart will go
It will blacken and crust over
Become the stone that sits in my belly
And pulls me under
Then my tongue and teeth
They will fall out
And fill bathtubs
Blood will come trickling after
Then finally
My lungs will collapse
Like a crystal chandelier
In an abandoned opera house

I will cradle the broken pieces of myself
And I will cry
Because only my eyes seem to work
I will open my mouth
And try to breathe
And only dust will escape me

He asked
"Are you afraid to die?"
And I just
Shook my head no
I'm afraid of people
Forgetting me
And of getting my tongue
Chopped off while I'm asleep
But I'm not afraid to die
He asked
"Do you believe in God?"
And I just
Shook my head no
I believe in the
Kindness of strangers
And in the ghosts
That haunt my attic
But I don't believe in God
He said
"You must be crazy."
And I just
Shook my head no
And watched him flounder
In his fear and faith

I’m not a talkative person
In fact I have sewn my mouth shut
To keep my thoughts
From spilling out
With the force of a fire hydrant
When I do talk
It’s in mumbles and murmurs
I let my words run together
I don’t even remember the last time
I finished a real sentence

Poetry runs through my veins
Every night I unzip my forearms
And let my blood
Spill out onto paper
I’m sorry I can’t bleed for you

I’m selfish
I take, take, take, and take
I buy myself Christmas presents
Birthday presents
Because I ******* deserve it presents

Grace never came easy to me
I stumble over my shoelaces
Like I stumble over my words
Thank god none of you have a pet fish
Because I would probably
Break the bowl

Cigarettes
I don’t smoke them
But **** do I find them attractive

I think bruises are beautiful
Purple, blue, and black splotches
On pale skin
Soreness when you press your fingers
Into them
Give me bruises
And I’ll give you kisses

Your eardrums can and will shatter
Under my screeches of rage
I don’t always scream
But when I do
I turn into a ******* demon

I wear granny ******* casually
Because being comfortable
Is more important
Than being ****

Every bouquet you give me
I will keep
Until they are petal-less
And brown
They will sit in a vase
And decay
And I will use the scent
As perfume

I have a skinny waist
But fat thighs
I’m a size nine
Please don’t buy me size three jeans

Most people’s voices change
With puberty
My voice changes depending
On who I’m with
When I’m with you
My voice is deep with a sarcastic tint
When I’m with your parents
I sound like a ten year old boy

I have a cranberry juice addiction
That’s getting out of hand

Sometimes I break under
Magnifying glasses
My heart drums behind my ribs
There’s a reason why
They call it a cage

I’ve read Catcher in the Rye
Five times and I still
Hate Holden Caulfield

A good day for me
Is finding socks
Without holes in them

I don’t plan on being
A mother
I can’t give you
An heir

My heart explodes
Regenerates
Explodes
Regenerates
Explodes
Explodes
Explodes
Regenerates

I love myself more
Than I could ever love anyone else
And I’ve yet to find someone
Who understands that

We judge people
Who judge people
Because judging people
Is wrong
And we **** people
Who **** people
Because killing people is wrong
And yet we do not
Cry for those who are sad
And we do not
Smile for those who are happy
Instead we remain
In our private prisons
Until something more
Exciting happens

Take these silver threads
Of memories
And weave them
Into tapestries
Hang them on stone walls
In forgotten castles
So they can rot
In a place
Besides my brain