to try

is to waste the last of my energy.
as i lay broken and exposed on a cold floor,
i cry until the heat on my skin is enough to
shatter the building.

to try

is to tear out the hearts of
pure people.
as i burn too bright to handle,
i darken the souls of angels.

to try

is to make the stolen kisses
last too long.
a kiss on the lips of that gorgeous girl,
knowing she's a *****.
a kiss on the lips of that perfect boy,
knowing he's to be married soon enough.
a kiss on the lips of death,
knowing that there's no reason to continue.

to try

is to make the drowning go faster.

to try

is to die.

I'm almost at 1,000 collective views on my poems. Cool..

Some nights I can't close my eyes without
seeing everything I feared,
feeling every horrible thing
(every horrible thing, every horrible thing ever)
and I just stare at the ceiling, imagining stars
where our names were written

we carved our names into a tree as well as the stars
we tried to be like the movies, and in a way,
it was even better than the movies
but I can still remember the feel of your lips against
mine as I stare up at that ceiling and wish
I could feel the way your body moves again,
just one more time to say goodbye
to the way you felt.

Some nights I look up at the real stars,
where my dreams lay,
and on the heels of my bare feet (the grass is cool, and keeps my raging fever from
growing to the size of the sky)
and I wonder if you're somewhere
looking up at them too,
and if the moonlight is kissing your lips as I once did
but I do not miss you, because after a while,
the strength drained out of us, and we were only met
at the lips, and never eye to eye

when I first met you, I first noticed your eyes.
that's why it was so hard when we never met eye to eye anymore
your eyes shone out in the darkness I walked in
and I knew that I had to have you near me.
you must've thought the same thing because you never
let go of me until we both realized that it was over,
that we would be stuck looking up at the sky
with a telescope of feelings,
wanting the way our eyes first met back.

but it wouldn't happen,
so I've chosen to pretend that,
like our love,
the stars have burned out.
its over.

I'm writing at 2 in the morning
In 21 days I'll be in the
s p o t l i g h t. My skin will
burn. My eyes will twinkle.
I will be someone else,
and I will stop breathing for a
day.
They'll be little books and under my name
will be 5 roles, and 5 sentences about
some girl I won't know because I'll be
too deep into character.
Nothing will go wrong.
Yeah, right, that's why I'm crying my
eyes out at 2 am because I'm so s c a r e d.
I have 21 days,
to get my a c t together.

my heart
beat
beat
beat
and then i felt
and it stopped.
my heart beat beat beat
and then i felt, and it stopped.

my lips had been kissed by the devil
and his poison had corrupted my heart
why did i have to talk to people
who would never understand
and the answer, he said, was that i didn't.
he said not to talk to anyone, and instead to return
to hell with him,
where i belong.
so with one shot fired,
i did.

The only place that feels like home is when you're studying my face for any sign that I love you. I wonder if I hide it too well when you turn your back.

Call me your queen, say the stars shine for me, and kiss me like it's been forever since our bodies met (but it's been never ever ever) and keep me on your mind at midnight, six in the morning, how about forever? And you and I, we'll live forever on that tree, on your skin (or did you grow the courage to remove us from your forearm?) and in these scars on my fragile heart. You and I are that star, remember? 10 to the left and 2 up, for our shared birthday. You and I live in those time stained, ripping, beautiful papers where we spoke of dreams and I confessed about my visions of dying and how then people would really see me, and you said baby, they already have, we were so young but now those papers are so old. And you and I, you and I are forever but never ever ever.

r.c.

i am

nobody

somebody

lost



and all around me, people tell me who to be

be the girl who

knows how to open a locker

and doesn't lose her homework on a weekly basis

be the girl out of school,

because you're a danger in these walls

be the girl who-

i don't know

no
no
no

i will be untitled because i do not need to be defined
or labeled,
to
be
titled

r.c.

i'm so sorry for saying
'i need you'
instead of 'do you need me?'
because i guess i thought (i think)
you didn't (don't) need me.

The radio is on and my mind is on,
the switch was broken, I can't
turn it
off,
all I can do is shut my eyes
no that makes it worse..
maybe I'll sleep, but you're there too you *******!
Goodnight

r.c.

Rain or shine,
and whether or not I had argued with my family,
the screen flickered to life
and my heart skipped a beat.
Something was different in the
television.
There were nights where I would
talk to cast members,
tears streaming down my face
because I hated myself,
and I would go to sleep grinning like crazy.
It's one thing to be in love with a person,
but the butterflies in my belly came from
a whole world.
A kingdom, called Everealm.
Where the only monster was Verlox,
not me,
and there were ballads,
not the quiet cry of a lonely girl.
Knights in shining armour,
a handful of princess warriors who
held on tight.

Everealm felt like a dream, thousands of miles
and a few worlds away.
But it was always there for me,
even that night when my mom
thought I couldn't keep myself safe,
and I had to go to a crisis center.
But I came home to army of heroes
who took me in as their own,
and taught me that I was
one of them.

A hero,
not because I wielded a Sunspear,
but because I kept going.
I had enough reasons not to go on,
it'd be easy to give up.
But there was The Quest,
and that gave me my own quest-
to dance my way through this storm,
and then pull others out of theirs.

After all,
there's a hero in all of us.

You just need to find it.

Sometimes I like to rip my heart out so I can stop
feeling. Sometimes I like to lay in the sky and
die. Sometimes I sleep.

r.c.