My hands are full of cement,
I do not forget.
Currents run through your fingertips,
I trace honesty along the edges of your ribcage.
Do not look back.
Your head is not a home for liars.
This is meant to be felt.
Come close,
I will show you how much you exist.
I do not forget.

You've got this fire
blazing away in my mind;
burning through my time,
making me breathless,
shreiking anxiety,
a chaotic unrest.
Heat in my veins
and my douse just
no more the same.

i haven't let
a blade
dance upon my wrist
in months

but now it aches
and it feels like
i'm coming home

sleeping with self destruction

Everything I say is uninspiring and redundant;
I used to be able to string words together
until they interlaced into something beautiful
but now the words can't seem to reach my mouth.

I'm paralyzed.
That's the only word to describe it;
paralyzed.

When you try to inhale but you can't.
When you try to move on but you can't.
When you give it your everything,
but you simply, *******, can't.

So life now consists of the little things,
negative thoughts and self-medication,
bad habits and self-mutilation;
sometimes bloodied,
sometimes bruised,
sometimes both.

And I won't pretend to know anything because
ignorance is kinder on damaged hearts.

But I called to God and he didn't answer.

When she told me she loved me
I didn't believe her.
So i killed myself instead.
A fairy came to me & whispered enticing secrets in my ear.
He outlined a closet upstairs
where I live alone inside my head.
Tidal waves of white roses grow in & out my of spine.
Suffocating the fishes prancing in a field of raving vines.

Lunar Lullaby plays hopscotch in a cloud of flies.
She licks cherry red ice pops & sings bird hymns to oak trees withering in the wuthering skies.  
Swarming dragon-lies fly in lakes upon Monet's canvas.
There he paints a beauty of Thumbelina whose grave resides in the darkest corner of my empty heart.

A red cape looms above & flutters without wings.
My cave is growing vaster
And so I sail amongst its seas.
This Psychosis is no more wearing thin than Rigor Mortis can begin.
I'll live sedentarily as a maid serving rotten apples to men chained as apes.
A lotus will float on by down this bloodstream & into the night.
As a crater on the moon your corpse died suddenly as when fruit bloom.