Nights spent pulling away pieces of my skin remind me of trimming fabric from unwanted articals of clothing

My exterior does not define me
But I despise what's underneath

Maybe if I peel back far enough
And glare at the bare contents of my being
I'll see something worth saving

Thrifting, and scrapbooking my flaws

I do not enjoy this
I do not want to be this
These torn up jeans
This torn up soul

So I scratch off the scabs from every wound
Reopening my problems, exposing them to my ever changing mind

This scar stings my eyes the way the sun used to when I was a child

This scar has been there since I was a child

I believe that thought is called an epiphany
But I never wanted to realize these things about myself
So I throw them out
Leaving me hollow

Maybe something or someone can fill the cavity I myself carved from my chest

Maybe nothing and no one ever will

It's hard to tell

I feel nothing

I am nothing

I don't know where I'll be
In 4 years,
But I hope it's somewhere beautiful
And with you.
I don't know where I'll be
In 3 years,
But I hope it's staring at the stars
And with you.
I don't know where I'll be
In 2 months,
But I hope it's on a park bench
And with you.

I don't know where I'll be
In 1 day,
But I hope it's somewhere beautiful
And with you.

                  t.s.

The love of my life.
My person who is supposed
to be here with me.  

Is not.

My person cannot  
see past our history.
We'll always be more.

Than friends.

she slides her slender
white fingers down the
branches of his spine

her eyes melted like
glaciers and lips as soft
as freshly fallen snow

skin lustful, but heart
unforgiving, exhaling
his every intention

she is autumn in his
palms, her trees bare,
the leaves rust fallen

flashing indifference,
thoughts plucked in
shades of violent rose

I am the leftover fragments of a violent dream you once had.
You can't seem to remember enough to know the details
but even still-
it leaves you haunted.