"There's more to that relationship, huh?"
My dearest grandmother,
I wish I could tell you the answer
to that question,
but I don't even know.

Generations from now,
I will be a pile of bones,
a name that use to be,
a mind that use to think,
a mouth that use to speak.
I will be a story that people will think was a personality.
I will be a poet that no one speaks of,
a song that no one sings,
a picture that will burn.

I will be nothing but bones and a memory.

I'm going to throw up
every feeling
I've ever had for you.

She's been there since
the 4th grade.
The years where there were no scars
on my arm,
when our smiles shone through the stars,
where out friendship was new with years to come.

I don't know how it is
that I can love someone so much without actually being
in love with her.

She is my best friend.

She's always been there,
even when it was tough.
We worked things out,
it's a new start.

She showed me how to be happy,
how to cry because I'm the one who made the
hugest impact on her,
how to love someone unconditionally,
without having a relationship.

She is the sun that my lightens my day,
and the stars that lighten my night.

She is the intelligence that I feed off of
on those nights.

That day I told her I had harmed,
oh how she hated herself for not being there.
And I hated myself for the pain I had caused my better half.

That night that we opened and looked out my window,
let the cold breeze hit our faces.
Listened to music.
We did not speak a word.  

When she hates herself it pains me,
because she has no idea what she really is.
She is perfect to me.

She is my best friend,
a rare one at that.

I really hope people don't think that things I say
are a call for help.
I don't need help,
because I'm perfectly fine.
I have a damaged soul,
and I don't think I can repair it.
I think I'll be okay,
I just need some reassurance sometimes.
I'm sad,
and I don't know why.

I did what they wanted.

"I need love!" I scream from the top of my lungs,
but he never hears me.
"I want you!" I whisper right behind his back,
but he doesn't turn around.
"Can I get to know you?" I question him as he turns the corner,
not even looking for who was talking.
"You're killing me!" I cry as he listens to the teacher lectures.
"Do you even know who I am?" I mumble as I realize he doesn't even know my name.
"I don't even know you." I say under my breath as he leans to his friend.
"Why am I doing this to myself?" I think as the bell rings and he leaves my view.

I didn't know when she would come back,
but she's at the door.

MY LUNGS ARE FILLED WITH HATRED,
BUT I'M STILL BREATHING.
I'M SUFFOCATING.
PLEASE SAVE ME.

i know why no one will ever love me or want me.
It's not hard to decipher.
i'm easy to leave and forget,
and you're the reason i know that now.

The thought of her is like a boomerang,
it always comes back.

I am convinced
I will never love
again.

im having a crisis,
and you're probably just fine.

You wrote a poem over a year ago, and posted it a few weeks after I was going to **** myself.
You said "I feel like life wouldn't go on without her here."

Well, thinking about it,
I'm not here.

We're in separate worlds,
and you're doing just fine.

See?
If I would've taken all those pills and never woken up,
you would be living, breathing, and moving on.

I'm nothing anymore.

It's amazing how
not leaving your bed
for 2 days can take a
toll on you.

I've cried more
times than I can
count.

I've imagined
killing myself.

I've remembered
memories.
Ones that I never
want to forget.
And those that I
torcher myself over.

I've made myself
physically sick,
and I haven't eaten.

I blame you.
I blame us.
I blame you for
what I've become.

I wouldn't have been
caught that night if it weren't for
you.

I was with a boy that
distraced myself from
you.

A boy that I dreamed of
hanging out with.

You.
You ruined it.
You ruined me.
You used me.
You took advantage of me.

You said that I shouldn't
distance myself because
it scares you that I might not
come back.

Be ******* afraid.
I'm not attached at your
hip anymore.
I'm free from your grip.

You gave my friend
a death glare because you
hate him.
You hate him because I'm
friends with him,
and I refuse to talk to you.

You're mad because I
smoked my lungs
out with Dylan.
You didn't even ask if
I was okay after I had
been caught.

Fuckyoufuckyoufuckyou.

I hope you torcher yourself
to the very core
that you lost me.
I hope that it haunts you
that I might not come
back.
I hope that you're
terrified of me hurting
myself.

You live your life,
and I'll live mine.

it's going to work out
it's going to work out
it's going to work out*

and nothing has hurt more.

It's terrifying how one flick of the wrist,
with the razor in between fingers,
doesn't hurt one bit.
No sting,
no burn,
just relief.

You're gone,
and I'm not sure how to cope.

I can't cut,
nor can I drink the pain away.

I just sit here trying to erase what is left of you.

I am infatuated with your being.

It's a blur.
All a blur.
You.
Me.
Us.
What happened?
I'm so messed up.
I can't breathe.
Why would you?
How could you?
Do I mean nothing?
Have I always meant nothing?
Why now?

I can't go back.

No matter how hard I try;
how hard I ******* try.

My father will never leave my life.

Elegant her mind was,
the beauties of
death,
blood,
sadness.

Elegant her skin was,
scarred,
tarnished.

Elegant her thoughts were,
pills,
blade,
noose,
drown.

Elegant she was,
or every one thought she was.

Her real elegance didn't show through her every day life,
only to those who wanted to hear,
and those that wanted to hear were
the demons.

Her elegance, in the end
is what destroyed her,
leaving the truth behind,
she wasn't so elegant after all.

I've found a home
in a new pair of
eyes.

you may have lost her,
but you got me back.

No words were said,
but I knew.

I knew when you held my hand
as we walked through the crowd of people.

I knew when you layed your head
on my shoulder and swayed to the music.

I knew when I almost fell,
you sat me down and cooled me off.

I knew when she couldn't move,
you calmed me down.

If that's not love,
I don't know what is.

You will stain my skin
with that memory
that I will never be able to forget.

A pain that will remind me of
you for the rest of my life.

And this is the only
way you actually
wanted to hurt me.

WHEN I HEARD ABOUT HIM MY STOMACH DROPPED AND MY TEARS STARTED TO FLOW AND I CLENCHED MY STOMACH AND REALIZED THAT LAST YEAR THAT COULD'VE BEEN ME.

touching you today was the hardest thing ive had to do in years,
just because i know im not yours to ever touch.

Two years later, and I'm back where I started.

The thoughts are clawing at the insides of my thighs,
waiting on that sweet release.
My wrist tries to whisper sweet nothings,
again, waiting for a release.
My head,
it's tangled with images that want to be real.
My nose yearns for that metal smell.
That smell that lingers from the sweat of my fingers
to the silver blade.
My ears wanting to hear the shredding of skin.
And the red,
the red blood that flows in my veins,
from underneath my meaningless skin.
I think,
maybe the ****** cuts that could dance upon my skin,
make the metallic smell linger in the air,
having my guts spilling out,
would be worth it.
But I think again,
and it's not.

one day i will be able
to listen to
our
song without hearing
you
in every word.

Oh,
how you walked by me,
gave me that smile,
held my hand.

You made me choke on my words,
you made me forget how to breath.
I couldn't swallow.

And when you kissed me,
I swear I floated in midair.
And that night you cuddled into the curves of my back,
I smiled.

Nothing quite makes sense when you're by my side,
you ******* alive.

Day by day you remind me how to
breathe,
swallow,
and forget.

And for that,
you are mine.

My eyelids are heavy,
and my lips are ******.
It must be a sign I have a broken heart.

I'm drunk and god, I miss you.

I died looking in her eyes.

the calm
after the storm.

The moon in the dusk looked at me and whispered everything will be okay.
She told me that time goes on and she will always come back up to comfort me during night.
She looks over me and makes sure I'm well.
She gives me light in my dark mind,
and brightens the dark sky.
"When you're feeling down, come and find me," she said with a grin.
And I replied, "I'll be back again."

I miss those late nights
where we would cuddle all night.
And I mostly just miss you,
**** I miss you.
I'm sad
and you're happy with another.

I always choke on my words before I spit them out,
dragging out my sentences,
trying to make sense of what I have to say.

Maybe they don't even give a **** anyway.

At this point,
I have no idea what I'm saying.
My fingers are typing things that I never have time to think about.

Maybe it's not me who's crazy,
I can't be,
can I?

No,
I don't think I'm crazy.

But when I write,
something takes over me.
I suddenly have time to think.

Surely this doesn't just happen to me.
Others must feel the same.
Right?

Why,
I'm supposed to be happy.

I am though,
aren't I?

Is it just the pills?
Who the **** knows,
or really cares anyway.

My fingers are taking place of my head,
I honestly don't know what I'm rambling about.
But in reality,
who the **** cares?

He was in my dreams again,
some place I never wished him to be.

I woke up in a cold sweat,
tears in my eyes.

I've never met him,
but I'm terrified.

I simply cannot speak to you.
Maybe it's not so simple, actually.
It's the thought of your smell.
I'm trying not to recall your smile.
I might have to ****** myself so I don't ponder over those things.
Your voice.
Your eyes.
My thoughts are cramped,
killing me by the second.
Tick, tock.
Tick, tock.
Soon I'll be dead.

She knows the feeling.
She knows what it's like to kiss razors.
Little red lines dance across her arm.
Her eyes dream of tomorrow.
I can tell how badly she wants the pain to wear away.
I can tell how scared she is.


Don't worry darling,
I can hear you scream.

I tell myself on a daily basis that I love myself,
how I look.

I've started to hate myself as the days go on.
My hair.
My eyes.
My cheeks.
My eyebrows.
My flawed skin.
My big hips.
My huge thighs.
My fat stomach.

I keep telling myself,
"you're gorgeous!!"

I can't do it.
I hate myself.

I'm ugly as can be.
Pictures show it.

My face is too oily,
my lips are too dry.

When will I become pretty?
I fear it to be never.

The hatred is back,
and I'm hating it.

he gave me a look that set
a fire in my heart.
he turned the lights off,
and my heart raced faster.
closer
and
closer he scooted,
but did nothing.
why didnt he kiss me?

I TRY TO COVER UP THE SADNESS WITH CONCERTS AND WHAT HAPPENS WHEN I RUN OUT OF CONCERTS TO GO TO?

the rush came back.
it was the best ive felt in 3 years.
better than anything you could give me.

a promise was broken.
many promises were broken.
im broken.

but the rush was better than what i felt
the night we hooked up.
so much better.

youre scared.
you know what im capable of.
and that scares you.

you dont understand the rush.
the feeling of being human
after youve felt nothing for so long.

im sure the shadows watched.
they always do.

you wont find out.
im not going to tell you.
and things have changed, so you
wont see.
it all worked out in my best interest.

i will talk to you tomorrow
like nothing happened last night.
and you will be oblivious.
im **** good at wearing a mask,
and you just found that out.

you wont be able to tell what im
hiding behind that mask.
you havent encountered it enough.

youre more scared of losing me
than im scared of losing myself.

i do not regret it
i do not feel ****** about it
and i would do it again in a
*heartbeat.

How did I
ever love
you?