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

Isn’t it kind of funny how poetry comes easiest to us the closer we are to death. When everything else is a struggle, the words just seem to flow.

Good night
To my love and my plague
to the liquid courage that ends - no,
starts my day
I cannot wait to taste you soon

Good morning
To regret and to shame
to asking, what did I do this time
since I cannot remember

Good day
to the longing
to the thoughts of you on my lips again
the shame has already faded by now,
and has opened more room for you to fill my head

Hello and goodnight
To my love
I welcome your sickness once again
and as always,
I am pleased to cease the thoughts
for tonight

Sad, pretty girl
you ****** blew it
probably only one drink too many
and you just couldn’t help but
bare your ill little secrets to the world
You spoke too fast
much too soon
so instead of sleeping in the clouds tonight
you’re on a rubber bed,
covered with rubber sheets
with those ****** socks meant for crazies on your feet

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.

At what point does this all become a willful dive to the bottom.
I can’t be blameless forever,
right?
RIGHT?

you can’t keep chewing me up and spitting me out until you get the flavor you want.

You blamed the drugs
and you blamed the *****
Every time you took a look in the mirror
you chose to reassure yourself
instead of those you left behind
Even now after two months sober
no more drugs
and no more *****
you continue to be able to look at yourself in a mirror
and I have no ******* idea how

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

don’t tell me to keep my head up when you’re the one who forced it underwater.

...and I tuck myself away again.

I am not sure who infected who,
all I know is we are only rotting together

And if my last words uttered were going to be lies,
this time I will die in silence

Even when the apple does fall far from the tree, that doesn’t mean it isn’t bruised on the way down.

You’ve helped me learn to be alone.

How have I managed to lose myself so utterly and completely
One day I stopped, and I just looked
but I was no longer there

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

It’s becoming easier and easier to say goodbye.

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

I feel that with and without love, we tend to go insane
Whether we find that love and lose it, or if we never find it at all
nothing but insanity would describe the feeling

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

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

reminiscing of screeching tires,
shattering glass,
my head hitting the windshield
..seatbelts do save lives I guess
why am I disappointed?

They say the devil don’t judge but I’ve met him and have never felt harsher judgement.

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.

Poison girl,
who got in your head,
why are hurting and wishing you were dead.
sickly girl,
why is your head so cruel.
why does it make you hate and follow its rules.
vile girl,
why are you starving yourself.
being thin and dying won’t bring you wealth.
putrid girl,
why don’t you see all that you gave,
you didn’t deserve this pain or such an early grave.

They call you crazy
but I know you’re just lost
Choice
Is the word they use to describe your actions
“Why did she choose to leave her kids”
“Why can’t she choose to put down the bottle”
But I promise mom,
I promise you’re not crazy
because I feel it too
I’m not sure how we got here
or how we will manage to get back
but I promise we will find peace one day
and we will do it together

It is on regretful nights such as these
that not even the moon will show me her face

I know my arm is not outstretched and asking for help,
But please do not let me continue to sink until I am no longer visible.

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

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

I am drowning in
an overfilled world.
The ceiling is the max,
there is no reaching for the clouds here.
Sometimes being dealt a bad hand
is enough to bring us down.
I am living proof of someone
whose demons were smarter than their maker.

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

Even during seemingly normal days
days I would deem okay,
I find my mind drifting back
to memories of liquor and pills
oxy and xanax
wax coating on my lips
the kind of numbness that would make any addict jealous
Liquor and pills are my way of making sure I don’t have to rely on days that are just okay
to help curve all of the days that are not
I long to believe things are over again
so i can have every reason to let go again

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

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

And I look out the window
the sun is out for the first time in too long
The cold shies away just the slightest bit
as I allow relief to fill my chest
Relief has always been something
that brings me closest to joy
It allows me to think and to breath
to remember that I deserve some care too
The sunshine melts the snow and washes away some of my worries
Even if only for a short while

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

Do not blame yourself for her undoing,
You are not at fault for the uneasiness in her brain,
the poison that has seeped into her skull.
You’ve plucked the thorns from her bleeding hands, taken the blades from her skin.
Comforting words have been offered,
Your warm smiles hardly ever returned.
She continues to dwell in a dark place,
Giving you only brief moments of light.
Please do not blame yourself for her undoing,
how can you expect to help someone who does all they can to hide their demons?

You broke my heart into a thousand pieces,
and all I could think about was how I could make you feel better

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.

Tell me about the first time you sensed my vulnerability. The first time you knew I could be manipulated by your eyes as easily as by your hands- those ****** fingers. Was it so obvious? Did I appear to be that naive, that in need of guidance? When did you see my willingness, my obligation to please? It was well known by you, well abused by you. But most importantly, when did you stop caring enough to do this to me..

At what point in my life did I decide that after being born into pain, it is the life I must choose forever?

eight o’clock breakfasts,
pad down the hall in padded socks
i hear her weeping again
she’s in 7B because she liked the bed against the wall
good morning, here are your meds
they scan my wristband to charge me later
i eat and spend the day talking with strangers
sometimes lying, sometimes not
i fill my head with words on pages to pass the time, yet it only seemed to move slower
i can’t remember what home feels like because I was never able to find one in myself
so here I will rest for now, until it’s time to move on

There is so little of me left,
and yet so many holes to fill.
Will I ever be whole?

My fingers are stiff and my legs ache
I have a hunched spine, molded into a defeatist stance
My legs threaten to buckle beneath me
and my knees crack more than ever
My head is pounding as my brain begs me to waive the white flag to finally be done
No more, they wail. Screaming to be put out of their misery
At the center of it all, the one who has been hurt the most
My heart
How can I give up now when it is still so restless?

more , more, MORE
I often find myself staring off at nothing, enveloped in my thoughts and searching for something more to distract my mind.
         What happened to her?
You can see the emptiness that has taken residence in my eyes, my being, nevertheless I still hope that life will become more worth living.
         She was always the good child.
Every time I run my hands over my skin I feel the lines that reside there and the blood that seeps from them, knowing there will be more to come.
          She was so smart and loved school.
Most of my thoughts are consumed by food. Keeping it down is almost unbearable, but ridding myself of it helps me to feel a bit more at ease.
          She would never do such a thing.
I often dream of death and how to escape the nightmare that plays out in my brain, thinking there must be something more than all of this.
          How could this happen?

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

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.

Every time someone asks me, “how is your mother?”
I am paralyzed for just a moment
I hesitate, satiate them with a “she’s just fine”
But the reality is I haven’t got a clue
My mother, my best friend, one of the loves of my life
I guess maybe she doesn’t see me the same way
She doesn’t bat an eye when she’s got methadone,
Hennessy,
watered down beer,
xanax,
a man who she thinks will make her happy.. any impulse
She only bats and eye to release the tears as we beg for a “why?”