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septemb3r Nov 2013
You throw yourself
Down the stairs
In your best dress;
You hold your own hair back
When you throw up.
You wish for razors on your wrist
Rather then my fingernails
Trailing down your back.
She was my yesterday,
And she is my everyday.
septemb3r Nov 2013
A redundant statement
I may be.
Falling over myself
To be what everyone wants me to be.
And yet,
I am here,
Nothing but sad,
Nothing but a *****.
septemb3r Nov 2013
You drag yourself to the table,
Fall into the arms of a chair,
Wishing they were the arms of your lover.
Your frail fingers find the cold fork.
A moon is set upon your plate.
She was the light of your life,
And now she's gone--
Just how to moon leaves the sun every morning.
septemb3r Nov 2013
Black nail polish,
Tongue piercings,
And lips red as ripe apples.
You're lying on the floor,
Smoke is curling around your head.
The boys are swimming in stars,
And your sister's chopping
Eyes out of a rabbit:
Acid nightmares, that's all it is,
You think to yourself.
septemb3r Nov 2013
Wrists so red
From all the kisses of the razor.
Lightly licking
Her soft skin.
Not blood,
But words drips incessantly
From her poetry veins

— The End —