I’ve submerged myself into
something of an abyss
Most will say they’ve dug themselves a hole
they cannot get out of,
but that is not the case for me.
A hole indicates that there is a bottom
to reach and a way to move upward from there.
What I am part of does not reveal a way up,
Or a way down.
I am surrounded by a nothingness
that is endless in all directions.
Unsure of where to go,
I do not move forward or backwards
I simply stay where I am
and learn to live with nothing.

I’ve submerged myself into
something of an abyss.
Most will say they’ve dug themselves a hole
they cannot get out of,
but that is not the case for me.
A hole indicates that there is a bottom
to reach and a way to move upward from there.
What I am part of does not reveal a way up,
Or a way down.
I am surrounded by a nothingness
that is endless in all directions.
Unsure of where to go,
I do not move forward or backwards
I simply stay where I am
and learn to live with nothing.

If it feels like I’m a million miles away,
it is because I am.
I listen to the people around me
with wind tunnel ears
while clouds roll endlessly through my skull.
I have a throat filled with cotton fields,
my words always swallowed with the seeds.
My lips curve in ocean waves
endless, the same, on repeat,
a head bobbing in the water.
I try to see life with a sharper lens
but the fog never leaves my head.

I force open my crusted eyes
and wipe the blood from my face
while I wonder how long I was gone this time.
I shake the cobwebs from my knees
and straighten my broken spine.
My heart is laying on the floor in front of me,
the ***** meant to be keeping me alive
has only been the very cause of my demise.
I fix myself and allow myself to heal one last time,
I will never die for anyone else again.

I’m hoping I make it long enough
to fill this book with my heart.

We're all just a bunch of dying writers
trying to live again,
only able to mend ourselves with words
never spoken aloud.
Poetry is born out of brokenness and healing,
so whether you are hurting or putting
your pieces back together,
please never stop writing.

You say you like them dark and twisted,
yet you call her crazy.
She's a lovely girl
with the most corrupt mind,
no, not the cute type of corrupt
that makes you blush
with an inappropriate sense of humor.
She's the kind of twisted that
leaves her own body begging for mercy,
her tongue stings with the poison
of unkind words only meant for her.
She bends and bows at the feet of her demons
for only they can grant
the kind of release she longs for.

Sometimes I do wish
you could hear just
how dangerous this
silence can be.

Being a dreamer
has ruined my reality
I’ve always spent quite a bit of time in my head
painting pictures of what life should be,
what life should feel like
Now as an adult I am constantly moving around to new homes in new places
forever unsatisfied by what I see and what I do not feel
I fear I will never find what I am searching for,
As I know my dreams cannot be reality

They’ll ask me if it was the food that did it for me
or if it was the puking
I guess it was both,
they both numbed me right up
until my gag reflex gave out
Now I sit here with buds in my ears,
nodding my head to the music
with a bottle to my lips
the alcohol cooling my empty stomach
This is how I live with myself
at least I’m living with myself

Life without addiction
feels dull,
I am more numb now
than I ever was while using
the only difference sober is
I am so painfully aware of it.

I was born into a world that clipped wings and barred windows.
The people around me littered the air
with false hope and promises.
They told me they would be there no matter what,
help me no matter what I needed.
Little did I know it was all a fallacy.
They were not there to hold my hand
when I stepped on the scale for the first time,
then each day that followed.
They were not there to pluck the blade
from my fingers after I discovered its release.
They were not there to wipe my tears and hold my head up
each night when I collapsed.
I want to believe they tried to offer support
and be there when I needed them most,
but is that true?
I do not want them to be half in with their half hearts-
leave me to my vices and let me cope
in a way that I know I cant trust.

They left me to rot,
then called to ask how I was doing.

I’m in love with an angel
one who lit the entire night sky even when she couldn’t see the light herself
her heart held love
for every living thing except herself
I guess maybe she just ran out of space  
this angel would fight for you or for me
every opportunity she got
but she never stood a chance in saving herself

Why did you tell me my lips tasted like heaven
if you never planned on kissing me again?

You’ll eventually realize that you have become everything you were running away from.

With each raise of your fist
an angel is born
their soft kisses soothe her bruises
the wings shelter her from the harsh words
and the halo is offered to hide the tears
she slips deeper and deeper into
the belief that things will change
that you will change
she believes this angel can protect her
every time the alcohol touches your lips
but in the end she is the angel who now knows
just how impossible it is to escape the devil

An angel who followed all
the right signs
and in the end
they still led you to hell.

It is time to make the choice
to live or to die
I cannot go on living
while feeling like I am dying

Blood stained hips
Trembling lips
I caress the edge
longing for its touch
I slowly sink its teeth into my skin
soft flesh parting once again
I promised myself last time
would be the last time
But how can there be a last time
when the pain is endless

It’s becoming easier and easier to say goodbye.

I was the person who jumped in the water first
while others stopped just at the shore
I was daring and willing to risk it all
people would watch from afar
and only wish for my courage
but during one of those leaps
I lost my footing,
I hit the ground hard,
now bruised and hurt
both legs appear broken
and I am only sinking
my attempt at recovery has been feeble
and I sit here wishing I never took the chance
I am fractured and lost at sea
promising to never leap again

You meet your knight in shining armor,
the healer of your pain,
one who promised to be there for you
through thick and thin-
for the first few months anyways.
Soon they’ll get tired of you
having your bad days more often
than what they expected,
the swords will be laid down
and you will be avoided
while at war with your brain.
You’ll be left to fend for yourself again,
fighting an army with your bare hands.
They will only come back when the coast is clear, just in time for the stronger you.
Your bruised knuckles will be kissed,
and you will be supported until it heats up again,
it is another bad day and you are all you have.

Why is it you who makes this suffering
taste that much sweeter?

I write and I spill my heart onto these pages
over and over almost daily
I cry and smudge the ink
wrinkling the paper as it dries
but no matter how many words
seep through my pores and my pen
it still does not feel like enough
enough to stop my tears or
lift this weight from my chest
Here I am, clenching my fists
knuckles white, around this pen
wishing I never had to write another sad poem

I have begun to see myself
as someone who is labeled a burden
but I do not think that is reality
it is only how those around me
have made me feel
all I am really asking is be cared about.
I know I cannot lift myself up
or convince my mind that today
will be a good day,
and if I can’t do that for me it will be
impossible to do it for another
so I have learned that sick people
cannot take care of sick people
because no matter how hard we try
we are all just a little too tired

Most days feel like bad days,
and the only days that feel good
are for all the wrong reasons

My wounds have healed
and turned to scars
but I do not feel safe yet
I am not safe in this skin
and it is not safe from me
at any moment it can
so easily be opened
to again bleed red
when will I learn that it is here
to protect me from what is on the outside,
not what is on the inside

How can you sit here
and blame me for my pain?

I’ve given up on trying to save myself
I know I will not attempt to climb
from the depths I’ve become trapped in
and I have accepted that arms
will not be extended into a hole
as deep as this one
while already knowing
I’m just too far to reach

My hands cup gently
around the source of the heat
little flames lick at my skin
but they are not scalding,
only warm
this little flicker means very much to me
I provide it a barrier
to keep safe from harm,
it can easily be blown away
doused and smothered
my last little light is here in my palms
burning for my dear life

So many have a thing for roses
even my middle name
stems from the flower- Rose
deep red, never unnoticed
So strong with such vibrancy
yet so very opposite from myself
Still I grasped for it
wanting the strength and
attention it promised
And as the thorns
pricked my fingers
I only held tighter
bleeding red onto red

Yesterday I almost told you
how I was ready to die
I’ve been ready but
I haven’t said it out loud
then the conversation turned
to you away from me as it does
but that’s okay
I finally feel free

My life did not fall apart
all at once or so suddenly
small pieces and fragments
began to wear down and
be stripped away slowly
first the distance
between my family grew
I was alone before I knew it
no longer crossing their minds
my body became weary
and my thoughts ran slower
my love for reading and school faded
love for myself declined rapidly then
I shed weight and I shed tears
remaining tucked away in my home alone
locked away with this brain
unsure if I want to stay anymore
still my questions go unanswered
why did they leave
where did my mind go
where can I find myself again.

I’ve withered down to brittle bones
supporting a now hallowed shell,
begging the wind to take me.

...and I tuck myself away again.

I wish I would have held you longer
used a softer voice when I spoke to you
I wish I would have guided you
to nicer people on smoother paths
I wish I could have held your eyes shut
so you never had to see the evil around you
I wish I would’ve stopped you from seeking
comfort in all the wrong places
and convinced you to
seek peace in me instead
forgive me for cowering away in the past
forcing you to take the brunt of it all
I don’t blame you for the ways you chose
to cope and alleviate your pain
I promise to be here with you until the end
no matter how long you choose to stay or however you choose to go.

You can shave my hair off
to keep me from ripping it out of my head
you can hide my blades
to stop me from opening my skin
you can feed me pills
to try and get me out of this slump
you can tell me you want me alive
to maybe prevent me from swallowing a bullet so soon
but even if you sew my mouth shut
it will never be enough to silence the voices in my head

I spend hours each day
doubled over the toilet,
spewing feelings
anger
     sadness
                 tears streaming
                                          down my
                                     face
                 worthlessness
all flushed
out of my mind and down the drain,
until next time

I feel the drops on my skin
running down my cheeks
and meshing with my tears.
My hair and clothes are soaked
but I am not uncomfortable anymore.
I shiver and I shake,
my breaths quiver and quake.
Still, I stand in the rain
These endless storms
are the only things that bring me peace,
for inside I am burning,
my demons refusing to be doused

I poke the snakes who
call themselves dragons,
each time they bite back bitterly
and a bit of their poison seeps into my veins.
My mama always told me
that I was too soft for a world like this,
but now she’s the one
locked away unable to cope.
I may appear unwell and
you may believe me to be broken
but I promise my fingers will break
before I ever stop holding my pieces together
and my lungs will burst
sooner than I cease to breathe fire.

My parents first broke my heart
when I was younger,
and I have continued
to break it ever since.

Some days I am swimming,
most days I am sinking.
There is never a day where I
can simply just float.

This place is in my mind and in my head
This place is killing me from the inside

Love- the infamous cure-all, heal-all. The force meant to make life worth living and dreams worth dreaming.
But what happens when that force is only strong enough to allow someone to stay alive. Only enough to prevent someone from leaking every ounce of blood from their body, but not stop them from going deep enough to see a few drops. It cannot stop the creation of new scars and used bandages.
Love is enough to make the action of consuming food bearable, but never enough to prevent the flushing and acid baths that follow.
Love is here to remove your finger from the trigger and the barrel from your mouth. It will not hold back the tears and shut out the thoughts screaming to just ******* do it.
Love allows for a body to continue breathing and a heart to continue beating, but cannot stop the mind from wishing it wasn’t.
This force is slowly losing its strength and the power it holds.
It can and will not save you forever

You’ve helped me learn to be alone.

I’m an ill girl with an ill mind,
grew up in an ill world and I fell behind.
They watched me grow, then watched me grow weak,
I’ve asked for help but can no longer reach.
The pain has made a home, the hatred settled in,
I’ve come to accept that I will not win.
So please don’t beg and don’t wipe my tears,
these things you’re trying to prevent I no longer fear.

I’m an ill boy with an ill life,
grew up in an ill home and I turned to the knife.
It helped me at night and it helped me to cope,
I’ve since searched to feel more and turned to dope.
This pain is far too familiar, it has become a part of me,
Ive made it clear I will not be here forever just wait and see.
So please don’t beg and don’t wipe my tears,
These things you’ve caused me to do silence my fears.

I want to tear apart my skin to show you how ugly I am on the inside.
I want to show you the face behind this shell.
I want you to catch a glimpse of the voices and what they tell me
              Disgusting, shame, pig
I want to remove my eyeballs so you can see what I see.
I want to show you the teeth that eat away at my being.
I want to see you shudder as the demons seep from my pores.
             Can’t get away, poison

You often paint bruises across my skin,
your brush choice varying,
some more brutal than others.
Anger,
Your greatest inspiration,
guiding you as you lay each new little component,
creating a masterpiece.

Now, I often draw precision lines across my skin,
My utensil is quite unalike yours.
Anguish,
My greatest inspiration,
Guiding me closer and closer to masterpiece of my own.

I think I watched the moon more than the road tonight.
I suppose I can’t blame the stars for being
so distracting.
My mind tends to wander and all I can
do is beg the constellations to kindly weave
themselves between my fingers and help
guide the steering wheel.
I need a few moments to gather myself and
tuck these intruding thoughts back in their
places- now is not the time.