Makin' deals with the devil,
                just to find some satisfaction.
        I sign my name in blood,
                      nothin' but a dangerous interaction.
But if danger is the only thing that makes me feel,
                     than so what if I never heal?
           I'd rather live like this,
                           In debt to the devil, than let my own demons run amiss.
      So how does it all end?
               Simple as this:
I live my life on the edge,
                          with a simple pledge—
                 when I finally fall over,
                                when I die,
                 tell everyone this:
She only lived this way so she wouldn't be alone.
               While everyone turned their backs and let her roam,
The devil waited with open arms,
                   welcoming her home.

I guess my mentality is jump or don't, you can't just stand there on a cliff forever. You either can turn around and walk away or run and jump. And when you hit the water, you can swim and enjoy the ocean for awhile or go find a new cliff to jump from or a new ocean to swim in, if this one doesn't suit you.

The future is unpredictable, why stand on the edge forever debating ever tiny thing and waiting for perfect conditions? Nothing is ever going to be perfect.

(Nobody is going to be perfect.)

And if it doesn't work out, get out, dry yourself off, and try again. But don't stand there waiting for perfection, because no matter what cliff you stand on or what ocean you want to jump in, it will never ever be just right.

The water might be freezing at first, but could you get used to it? Or maybe the water is warm and perfect.
Perhaps it's too choppy, but give it time and the tide will slacken and the water will calm.
Yes, there is the potential that the waves will be too big and try to pull you under, but you can fight and swim out if it's too much.
But there's always the chance you learn to swim and it's beautiful and worth it. Worth the fear of jumping, worth trying to figure out.

But you'll never know for certain if you just stand there. Waiting.

I'm not the type of girl to hesitate on the edge and wait. I either jump or leave. I'm not telling you that you have to jump with me. I don't want to feel like I've made someone do something they don't want to do. But I can't just stand here unsure. I've never been that girl.

I've always either gone after what I want, despite every obstacle in my way, or it's not something I want badly enough and I won't follow through.

And if you're waiting for perfect wife conditions and contemplating the high and low tides and thinking years from now, you're going to be on that cliff for a long time. And you might miss out on some fun waves and warm water. The sun might set and it will be too late. But here's the thing, I just know I won't be waiting around for a long time.

We've had a nice long picnic on this pretty little cliff darling, but now it's time for something different. I'm on the edge and ready to jump. Question is, are you?

Being with you was like trying to keep water in cupped hands.
No matter how tightly I held, you still seeped through the cracks.

All I wanted was merely a sip,
A tiny taste of the love you had to offer.
I had been thirsty without knowing I needed a drink until you teased me with your cool touch.

But before I could bring my hands to my lips,
The last drop hit the floor.
You were gone.
Leaving me nothing to soothe my chapped lips and burnt heart.

But here's a secret I learned shortly after you left.
I wasn't in a desert and you weren't an oasis.
All I had to do was grab a glass and turn on the tap.
I found a way to quench my thirst from another source,
And from that day I never looked back.

I wish you wouldn't say things like,
"It must be nice, being naturally skinny."
I can hear it in your voice, your envious of this body of mine.
But even though I know better,  I respond along these lines,
"Oh thanks. I'm just lucky I guess."
But that's so much more than just a white lie.
If you only knew how much I wanted to die...
With every bite of food consumed.
If only you knew, not to assume.
You can have this dying body of mine,
Because I'd trade it anytime.
You can discover how it feels, this need to be skinny,
And you can have my mother, who will always complain that you're not pretty.
And then you would understand how it feels,
When people say things like,
"It must be nice, being naturally skinny."

I hope I never forget this,
The feeling of your kiss.
It's more than just the softness of your lips,
And the taste of your sweet breath.
It's so much more than just swapping spit.

Your kiss sent tingles running down my spine,
A feeling rather divine.
But your kiss, was so much more than this.
I can't explain how my heart would skip a beat,
Or how my breath would simply leave.
Your kiss put a spell over me.

And even after all this,
Your kiss is the thing I miss.
But it's not mine to have anymore.
I just hope she realizes how lucky she is,
To have stolen the one I adore.

The time ticks by tediously.
It's as if this night is never-ending.

While I lie here waiting, my mind wanders idly.
As usual, my thoughts eventually settle on you.
(A sad nightly ritual, if you will)

Your face swims into focus, but I fear it's blurrier than before.
I can still picture the bright blue of your eyes perfectly,
But the contours of your face are getting fuzzy.
Is this really you I'm remembering,
Or are you slipping away?
I can't even recall the sweet melody of your voice.

This terrifying realization hits me hard.
I'm losing you.
Again.

These memories are all I have.
Please don't take them from me.
I want to scream out, but all I can do is gasp for air.

Once upon a time, you were my everything.
We were supposed to live happily ever after.
But you were stolen from me that stormy night.
I can still hear their words echo through the empty house.
He never felt any pain. He died instantaneously.

Well *******. You left me with so much pain.
I suffer through it every night.
As I fight with all my might,
To keep your memory alive.
Because I will always love you.

The time ticks by tediously.
I'm just waiting until mine runs out.
Maybe then, we can be together again.

There is a war
     waging inside me
    tearing me
to pieces.
Do I grovel for forgiveness
    fight for this
or run...
        like I've always done?

I don't know how it works
trying to be
a part of something
       bigger than
                    me.

I feel complete blindness and
     terrifying uncertainty.
                   Is it me?
    Am I ruining whatever this is?
Or are you to blame too?

Don't you see
      I've never done this before.
           Everything is new to me
       and I'm trying my best
but I fear I keep faltering...
                                     failing....
                                           falling.
I've only ever looked out for myself
    and yet
         here I am dancing
     on my tippy toes
trying to please you.
No ones ever wanted me
          around constantly
        so instinctively
I pull back.
I'm not sure I'll ever get this right
            especially
if you don't understand my
         doubt and
               hesitation.

Is this love
    or agony?

I didn't know it was possible
      to confuse the two.
Some days I feel
    oh so high and happy
that's when it's easy to be with you.
     But there are days like this where
          it appears
I've messed up
                     again.
Now there's
simply radio
    silence.

I'm struggling daily.
If it's all me
      if all these mistakes
          are only mine to make
     do I continue trying?
There's no promise
     I'll get better.
I worry in time
you'll get sick
            of my constant shortcomings.

But if I give up
    run like I've done
what's the cost?
I've lost
       you
for good this time.
      I'm at a c
                    r
                    o
                   ­ s
            roads
        
Is this love or
       agony?

Please just tell me.
Should I fight or flee?
Do you still want
        me?

There's a provocative quality to poems, don't you think?

Even though they are merely words upon a paper, they drip with a sweet and sticky seduction.
Passion and lust immortalized in black and white, capturing a carnal moment.
The words do tantalize and tease, for those unafraid to read it.
Your breath even hitches as the poem screams of those vivid teenage memories.

It's you inside the poem, digging your nails into his back, begging for the release you desperately  need.
It's your back that's arching, as he pushes harder and faster into you than ever before.
Who's screaming in heated passion as pleasure explodes throughout the body?

Is it you, sitting there, breathing slightly erratically?
Or is that only me? That feel the words come to life.

But after reading this, how can you not agree, that poems have a certain ****** quality?

Why do I always believe
Even the most obvious lies?
It's because I'd rather fool myself,
Instead of admitting the cold truth of:
You're incapable of love.

I'd rather deny my own reality,
Than acknowledge your true cruelty.
These dark shadows on my skin,
They're bruises from your demon within.
And do I dare examine my heart?
I know you've shredded it apart.
And my friends,
They plead with me to make it end.

Yet, I ignore all of this,
Even though I'm scared shitless.
Because if I do admit to your abuse,
I'm terrified of what you'll do.
And as sick as it is, I'm not sure I can stop loving you.
Because your "love" is all I've ever known.
And I'm not sure I'll make it on my own.

You thought you knew me,
Sweet girl, gentle personality.
Never saying no, forever laughing, always obliging.
But you hadn’t met them yet,
The dangerous demons perpetually hiding deep inside me.
Behind warm smiles and glittering eyes,
Darkness was writhing, twisting, rising.

You thought you knew me.
All those late nights laughing and pillow talking quietly,
I filled your impressionable mind with lovely fantasies;
About what we could do, where we’d go, what you meant to me.
If only I could be that girl I pretended to be.

But you failed to see,
I would never be free.
These **** demons had their hold on me.
Shackled to pain, hatred, self doubt,
I morphed into a caged animal,
Seeking any way out.
But with no escape in sight,
I couldn’t outwardly give up the fight.
So I’d smile, laugh, make love,
Pretending everything was alright.

You thought you knew me,
But that was simply an intricate mask.
Beautifully designed and masterfully created,
To hide the corrupt, mangled, darker places.
But that delicately crafted facade couldn’t last.
It was slipping...crumbling...cracking fast.

As time slipped by,
You lost the girl you thought you knew.
Yet just as my demons did to me,
I slowly, methodically manipulated you.
My darkness bled into your once pure veins,
Your love and happiness quickly faded away.
Perhaps you sensed you were broken,
Yet you stayed.
Poor boy.
Even if you had wanted, there was no way out.
Me, my demons, and the darkness had you in chains.

You thought you knew me.
You definitely didn’t at the beginning.
But to your regret, now you do.
Suddenly you notice the fake smile and darkness in my eyes,
Since you learned how to feign happiness too.
I left the moment I knew I had fully broken and corrupted you.

When you first met me,
You thought you understood the girl before you.
Only too late did you realize,
You never really knew me at all.

————

I saw him the other day,
Chatting and laughing with a beautifully innocent girl
A chilly smile slithered across my face,
Watching her fall under his dark spell and the way his lips taste.

Poor girl, you think you know him,
But you don’t.
And you won’t truly see...
Until it’s too late and you’re shattered, broken, and entirely empty inside.
Darling, I know how that feels.
That’s what happened to me originally.

Leaving her to him, I walked away thinking,
“We all become broken humans at the end.”

When I was naive, I thought I loved you.
I gave you everything I had to offer.
But immediately after, my illusions were shattered.
You explained the difference between making love and *******.
And when I asked what it was we were doing,
Your harsh laugh was answer enough.
But worse were the words that hissed through your beautiful lips.
"Don't be stupid. This is hardly even considered *******."
And with that, you slipped on your jeans and walked away,
Leaving me stunned and broken hearted.

Months slipped by since that day,
But I'm not that girl yoy left anymore.
You see, after you left me, I was broken.
I found comfort in the arms of others,
But to me, we were just *******.
I was just learning.

Then, just last night, you called me up again.
Asked how I had been.
If I still had a heart, I might have stuttered at the sound of your gorgeous voice.
But instead, I kept my cool and kept you talking.
You wanted to meet up, how shocking.

One thing lead to another, as it always did,
But this time things were different.
You were panting in satisfaction and you turned to me and said,
"Wow, that was fantastic."
I turned my cool eyes on to you, and responded with a hiss.
"Don't be stupid. That was hardly even considered *******."
I slipped on my dress and left the room,
And the first tears in years slid down my face.
For I knew how it felt, sitting alone in that room,
Stunned and broken hearted.

I'm not sure who to address this letter to, myself or my ex lover...

I've always had this love affair with self destruction. As if life wasn't already difficult enough, I constantly sought out my own blend of vices and chaos to add to the mix. Perhaps something inside me has always been beautifully broken, disastrously unrepairable; so I've endlessly searched for things, places, and people that either were damaged themselves or caused further destruction. It made me feel closer to normal.

Every relationship I had was one I knew was doomed from the beginning. Yet, I chased after them anyway, running after the pain I knew would come. It was almost as if there was a little red button, above certain people or right before I did something incredibly stupid, that screamed and beeped and flashed "DO NOT TOUCH. MUTUAL DESTRUCTION ENSURED." Obviously, I always pressed the button.

While I admit I have caused more people undeserved pain than I care to think about, I should clarify it was never about hurting you. I think somehow I innately understood whatever I was about to do would blow up in my face, send shrapnel ripping through my already wrecked body; and that was what I craved. I was and am addicted to destruction.

Whenever I'm around you, I can't even speak. Your very presence makes my heart thump erratically.
I swear you can hear it.
And to make things worse, I can't even breathe. No, I'm serious. I gasp for breath, literally.
And if it could get anymore embarrassing, I'm pretty sure I'm dripping in my own sweat.
Yet even though I know I'm a wreck;
You look at me like I'm somehow perfect.
I can't imagine what you see in me.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Whenever I'm around you, I can't believe how lucky I am.
How did I manage to end up with a girl as beautiful as you?
I know you don't believe it when I tell you that you mean the world to me,
But it's true, I'd swear it.
I just can't fathom how you can't see it.
That you are the most unique and wondrous person I've ever met.
And yet, you look at me as if I'm the one whose perfect.
But honestly, I don't know what you see in me.

What the **** is wrong with you?
Look at the way you treat him,
This incredible boy who is madly in love with you.
How can you just push him away?
When he'd do everything for you any given day.
Can you not see the way he looks at you?
As if you're the center of his entire universe.
And you call this poor boy pathetic?
Well, you know you're no better.
See the funny thing is you act just the same,
About the guy that doesn't even know your name.
What the **** is wrong with you?

If only he'd stop chasing someone as heartless as you,
He'd see I love him, this I know is true.

You said it wouldn't hurt.
You said you loved me.
You said everyone does it.
You said you'd be with me forever.
You said lets make love.
You said we didn't need a ******.
You said you were clean.
You said I'll be right back.

I believed you--you lied about everything.

Somedays
I don't
Eat,
Because
Society likes
Me better
Skinnier.
And
I guess
I would
Like me better too
If I looked
Like the
Girl
In the magazine.
She's not
Even a
Size
2.

Here's the truth, the simple and honest truth;
I love you.
I would do anything for you.
I'd give up everything to be with you.
You have all of my heart in your possession.
But here's the problem, the heartbreaking and depressing problem;
You don't love me.
You couldn't care less about me.
To you, I'm just a waste of space.
And my heart your holding, you've crushed it to nothing.
And here's the solution, the one and only simple solution;
Without you, I have no reason to live.
It wouldn't take much, just one deep, penetrating cut.

Please
Don't go
Stay with me
Just one more night.
And in the morning
You can leave
Right before
Sunrise.

I remember the last night we were together,
Every detailed ingrained into my memory.
You were running late,
And I was down by the dock waiting.
The sun had set and the coolness was creeping in,
But I didn't mind.
I would have waited an eternity for you.
But it wasn't that long before you showed up.
And even though I don't want to admit it,
I already knew something was wrong.

When I tried to hold you hand,
You pulled slightly away.
It hurt, but that was okay.
You were here with me anyway.
There was silence between us,
And all I could hear were the bugs buzzing madly,
As if they almost knew too.

After awhile, you eventually said what was on your mind.
You apparently wanted to move on,
Which meant leaving me.
I vividly remember that moment.
My heart faltered but my face remained blank.
I refused to show you my pain.

We argued a bit, and I told you to leave.
I think I may have said you meant nothing to me.
But I didn't expect you to just nod and walk away.
I guess I had hoped you might have stayed.

That was our last night together,
What a sad thing to remember.
And with that memory racing through my head,
How can I come to terms with the fact you're dead?
You died that very night of our fight.
Apparently you were distracted they said,
Because you ran the red.

And I can't decide what hurts the most.
Knowing it was my fault you were at that evening,
Or knowing that at the end, you had wanted to leave me.

I like knowing I'm good at what I do.
It's not really about me, it's more for you.
There is no greater treasure,
Than watching you embrace the pleasure.
And better still,
You'll never get your fill
Because I'm too good at pleasing you.
You'll never find another who does it like I do.

Ever since I was young, it felt like I was constantly under attack. Not from one singular enemy, but many and seemingly unending. I watched as villains raised their needles and plunged them into my body, much like swords slicing through skin. I remember screaming in pain and begging someone to save me, but no one ever came.

I soon learned there would never be a reprieve, it was never going to get any better. There was no prince or savior in my story.

I didn’t realize, or rather want to admit, I had already been mortally wounded. A fiery rage had been lit from the first attacks against me, and try as I might to ignore it, it would keep growing through the years.

The only option I had was to craft myself a suit of armor. It took years to build up something that could withstand the onslaught of constant torture. I worked every day to perfect the armor I showed the world. Every night I’d scrub away the rust and polished it until my soul ached and my heavy heart burned. The tricky thing about this armor was the metal of my defenses shown so brightly, it reflected what others wanted to see. Everyone saw their own version of me, but none of them really understood they were seeing a mere reflection. Not my reality.

What I didn’t realize about this carefully crafted armor was that it was also trapping me. That fire that had been lit so many years ago increasing raged through me. I could feel it burn through my veins with every attack. The armor prevented anyone from seeing it.... but I was ******* fire screaming for help. But my screams were echoed inside my own suit but silenced on the outside.

The worst bit is, if someone tries to reach out, to touch even in kindness, the metal burns them harshly. The fiery rage that’s kindled for so long internally is conducted easily by the metal I’ve wrapped around me. Now, the terrifying truth dawns on me.

There is no way someone can save me without burning themselves. I’ve built myself a metal prison, where I will eventually crumble to ash when the fire dies out.

The way he talks,
God he's so in love
With the girl before me.