It'd be easier to cut into me
All the words I wish to see
For the time I waste writing in vain
Does naught but cause me uncouth pain.

This pen's too heavy, my arms, too tired
And through me a mistake is wired
Too long my cogs and wheels have turned
Without due love to be returned.

Emotions flow too free and too wild,
Like the hands of an impish devil child
Too strong and too deep, they rage like bears
Shouting loud as they can, yet no one's aware.

For, feeling things as I often do,
Often what hurts is the ilk that is true.
A false word would save me the strife-
Oh! See what my heart has done to my life!

I am the queen of what ifs
Sitting on a throne of could've beens

My fears are my loyal subjects
Escorting my dreams to the gallows

My ambitions are now prisoners
To my court of procrastination

I, the queen
Reign over all of this regret

Fall in love with yourself.

Learn how to be infatuated
with the veins in your hands
and the stretchmarks on your tummy.
Make your own heart race
as you whisper those
three words,
eight letters
to yourself
over and over again.

I love you.
I love you.
I love you.

And mean it.

If you can learn how to
profess your undying love
to the naked, scared figure
in the mirror,
you can learn how to
daydream about a future
where you
and that person
are finally happy.

If you can give
a piece of your heart
to that stranger on the bus,
why can't you give everything
back to yourself?

You,
who picked your broken self up
after dropping to your knees
one too many times.

You,
who dragged your ***
to the toilet
after drinking the night away
(even though you promised
that you wouldn't do it again).

You,*
who wasn't always there,
but tried to make it up to yourself
by covering your wounds
with purple plasters
and starlight.

Because when people
turn out their pockets
with no spare love
to hand to you,
you will stuff your hands into yours
and give them some of your own
without ever running out of supply.

Stuck in my own misery
The twists and turns never seem to end
I can't find my way out of this labyrinth of sadness

But do you feel the way that i do?
Do you mean it when you say i love you?
Cuz X's and O's on a paper could be fake ,
and baby i hope i didn't make a mistake.