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Jan 2015 · 392
Pretty Panic Jan 2015
a collection of eclectic tendencies that stem from roundabout tragidies
and honestly i'm not sure if i'm a product of myself
or my insanity and learning the difference
means examining the parts of me
i'd rather not see and that's probably because i'm not a very good
seed and my roots never quite manage to grow properly
and there's always more water than soil and so i've got nowhere to stay
except on the ever-changing tide of my white lies and false smiles
so it's no wonder i keep falling into a state of decay but it's not like
i mean to
i mean i don't want to be like this
i don't want to fall apart all the time
and really there's nothing very appealing about dying
but i guess i feel the same way about being alive
and i'm writing to keep myself from bleeding because i made a promise
and you're not here to keep it
i guess i should have known better than to expect
anyone to really want to save me from myself
i've got landmines buried in my smile and every now and then
i hit the ground face first from the explosion and maybe i'm just going
to have to live the rest of my life upside down
to keep the blood from filling up my lungs
i keep telling myself there's no reason to die
but i can't find a reason to stay alive and i guess i'm just
checking my heigh to get the right coffin size and i keep losing weight
so that at least i can be cute for once in my life
or does it count if i'm already dead
what's the difference between a grave and a coffin
honestly the only thing i can see
is that coffins aren't free and i guess i've been buried in my chest
for so long that i should go ahead and get a tombstone
it's not like my heart could ever be a zombie
i'm too far gone for any sort of science to revive my broken mind
so maybe i'm not quite dead yet
but i'm certainly not alive
Jan 2015 · 378
Pretty Panic Jan 2015
the moon whispers drunken secrets
to me in the middle of the night
and it's starting to
make me an alcoholic
Jan 2015 · 374
Winter Wonderland
Pretty Panic Jan 2015
I drew the sun on my skin in the hopes that it would melt my frozen insides, but the ink bled through and there's nothing warm about the moon. With ribs like the tundra and a chest cavity full of snow storms, I sit in the silver glow of my cold winter moon and pretend that I am some semblance of alright. Time passes like snow flurries and my ceiling is farther away than it should be as I drift through the insanity of my reality.
I am all the mess I've ever been.
Red-rimmed eyes don't last very long and no one is ever around in time to see winter bloom inside my skull. Snowflake eyes and blue-tinged lips are only so pretty until you reach for them. The touch is icy unforgivable, not something you want to hold on to.
And as I whisper melting glaciers into oblivion, I am understanding that there is nothing beautiful about the puddle juxtaposed by the flame. So I will stay achingly cold and untouchable blue.
Winter I will stay.
Dec 2014 · 468
underwater running
Pretty Panic Dec 2014
i don't feel safe
when my name is
inside someone else's mouth
i guess i spent so long
ripping my heart out
in thin red lines
and hiding them between your fingers
that the touch of unfamiliar
palms brings out the worst in me
i guess that's why i kissed the way i did
and cut my hair too many times
and cut other things
in the hopes i'd run dry
love, i guess that's the thing
i spent so much of the time i was
making myself
with you
that your fingerprints are all over
the hardened clay
and when people fit their
thumbs in the spaces you left
i find i don't like
being held in palms that don't
fit every groove and line
it feels uncertain and strange
just like the unfamiliar taste
of someone else in my mouth
it sours my smile into something tired
and i don't feel quite so new
i feel used and overcooked
like my limbs are stuck together
in the hopes that it'll replace
the feeling of you
i've learned the ways of kissing through
the haze of numb nausea
of smiling through the blinding
i've learned that love doesn't
thrive in my palms the way it did
when i'd touch you
i'm all tapped out
on ways to share myself
at least the parts that count
and lately i've been finding myself
in a position of everyone
wanting more of me
than i'm able to give
they just don't understand
i can't give them
what doesn't belong to me
i can't ask you
for all my pieces back
i don't want them
i want every hand that touches me
to know what they're getting
because most want
a whole human being
but i can't even give
half of me
so let them see
what you'v left of me
let them understand
that they can't have
a single piece

                                                                                        i won't give up
                                                                                        all of me
Dec 2014 · 429
the definition of absolute
Pretty Panic Dec 2014
absolute is the sun in the east at 6 a.m.
even when it rains
absolute is the way my eyes are blue
even when i cry
absolute is the truth that i fall in love with the little things
like heartbeats and bitten lips and soft cheeks
i'm a mess of absolute realities tangled up in indefinite fantasies
and i find myself tripping endlessly
over every single thread of my existence like the way girls trip over themselves
to get closer to you
i know that i'm dark and i'm twisted
i had a chance and i missed it
i've got a smile like the sun and a heart like the moon
and i know that as long as i live
i'm going to love you
so maybe it means nothing more than i mean to the universe
and maybe it means that one day i've got a chance
to be what you saw in me
maybe there's more
maybe what i am
is not
Dec 2014 · 229
10 word story
Pretty Panic Dec 2014
someone teach me
how to be
a real human being
Dec 2014 · 299
Surrender Your Arms
Pretty Panic Dec 2014
do you have a story to tell
do you have demons to hide
tell me
how many parts of you
are no longer alive?
Nov 2014 · 466
insanity conspired
Pretty Panic Nov 2014
planetary disillusionment
the notion that we are
it all revolves around us
as if we are any more than
a teardrop on a timeline
a bruise on a spine
the universe
sixteen years my lover
has ****** everyone I've ever known
yet still I let her touch me
convince me
that I matter
because if I don't
if I deny the touch I don't want
never wanted in the first place
then the black hole
in my chest will devour me
so I stay in my orbit
planetary disillusionment
Nov 2014 · 339
Seasonal Disproportion
Pretty Panic Nov 2014
the static in my head
has reached a deafening crescendo
like flowers in winter
my bones are wilting
curling tighter into me until
there is only a cold shell
all the life drained away
you were my spring and I bloomed
at your touch
bent toward you as if you were my sun
but the clouds
(a.k.a. my own stupid flaws)
have blotted you out
(pushed you away)
and so I sit alone
freezing to death
in my own personal
perpetual winter
Nov 2014 · 248
Pretty Panic Nov 2014
most of the time
                                                                        i am convinced
                                    there is no such thing

as                                                          being

Nov 2014 · 1.1k
Without You, Without Me
Pretty Panic Nov 2014
I think something went wrong when I was made
like God skipped a stitch and left
part of me gaping open and
when I was eight I found that thread and out of
sophomoric curiosity I started tugging
look at me now
a mess of tattered strips of fabric
all tangled up in the thread
that was supposed to hold me together
and sometimes I get it in my head
that someone will come along and
fix me
but that's never quite how it seems to work
because I was sick the day
everyone else got scissors
and so when I expect affection
I get rejection
and the cold snip, snip, snip
of the parts of me they want to take
and now there's not much left
underneath the pretty face
just tangled thread
and a graveyard of a heartbeat
Nov 2014 · 708
reject deject
Pretty Panic Nov 2014
roll over and take it
like the dog you claim to be
come on, girl, do what it takes
to get a treat
even if you've got to wear a leash
do what you have to
for someone to love you
Nov 2014 · 309
Pretty Panic Nov 2014
everything is the
of rain water
you break my
in reverse
Nov 2014 · 337
shattering endlessly
Pretty Panic Nov 2014
i am a bible of verses
a scripture of curses
how many sins can you find
staining my skin
i bleed paperthin and only when i take the time
to drip instead of flood
but i suppose we can't all build arks to save ourselves
from drowning unexpectedly
on a trip to tennessee i learned what it means to tell a girl
how i feel and not care what the
reply would be
it turned out better than i had hoped and maybe it was the unexpected
that caused me to stay afloat
but i've got poison in my veins
a river of remains from every last person that's tried to save me
she got lucky
caught herself just before the cliff gave way
saved herself from the damage i keep hidden within
she got out
so why do i feel so horribly convinced that i'm going to die
why do i feel so horribly unsatisfied
i'm too terrified to even touch her
know that my hands have become live wires set to shock
something fatal
something fatal
and now that i've got empty palms and a bleeding heart
i understand what it means to fall apart
i paint myself black and blue
terrified of fading translucent pale
terrified that if i don't keep the colors in my skin
if i don't remind myself how to bruise
i'll disappear
into the waiting arms of my ribcage
never has my body felt more like a prison
than when it keeps me pushing
at all the wrong bars
keeps me rushing
at all the wrong guards
i'm breaking myself in two
thousand pieces of mismatched shards of glass
that were never meant to be collected into something beautiful
i'm the leftover scraps
of finished pieces and i guess maybe the pieces that are missing
are the ones i allowed her to keep
she's gorgeous in her entirety
so maybe it's worth
this feeling of shattering
Oct 2014 · 222
the middle of the road
Pretty Panic Oct 2014
but here's the thing
i was seven years old when i learned that i don't get what i want
and i was six years older when i learned that there are ways around the word no
and i know from experience that people often come back even if it's just because
they forgot you had their keys in your back pocket
i know that i'm just a girl with a lot of issues
i don't ever deal with and i know that i've got a lot of reasons
i'm not worth the risk
but i love you more than i know what to do with
so maybe we're just a love letter in a landfill
but i refuse to not let myself float away on the wind
we weren’t meant to go out like this
and even though the distance grows with every passing day
you run like a tidal wave through my veins
never have i loved the coast more
than when we stood with your arms around me
the rest of the world washed away by the sea
maybe i'm in love with you for the rest of forever
or merely to the end of next week
but you've got a place in my chest that no one else will ever fit in
so don't you dare tell me
that you're quitting when our time
has barely even started when we've barely even started
exploring what it feels like
to say i love you
and maybe i just think we deserve a fair chance
at working through all the stupid things
that make this hard
because i swear to god i love you more than i should
but i do
i do
Oct 2014 · 464
everything is so loud
Pretty Panic Oct 2014
bruised breathing
it's a funny feeling
like the universe inside my chest has tilted off it's axis
is spinning through the milky way of my veins
destroying everything it was never meant to collide with
won't admit that you're the catalyst
but you loosened the screws
of my locked tight jaw and when the hinges swung free
you stepped back and whispered "be free"
as if you were the chains shakling me to the concrete
stained red with my lack of hope
but you never understood
you still never do
it wasn't your fingers around my neck you were unlocking
with that skill you have for repairing rusty things
it was the noose i'd shafted around my throat
out of steel chains
each link a notch in my spine that knocked me to the floor
when the blow was delivered
i settled into the grooves of your existence too nicely
forgot that they were trenches
that this is a war
now i've covered my ears from the sounds of explosion
rocking through your gaze
sleep with my finger on the trigger just in case
there's a reason to pull you back from the edge
i never do anything with a helmet and i guess i'm learning that
not all head wounds are going to leave you black and blue
i can't decide if the pounding in my skull is
a desperate attempt for my body
to keep feeling something or if it's my mind
telling me it'll all be over soon
i called us a storm once and i guess i forgot that every
hurricane has exactly one quiet zone
and that it doesn't sit still for anyone
i'm no longer in your gaze
i'm just the aftermath
of a bomb that was never meant to go off
blowing too soon
like an unlit fuse sparked at the base
like fireworks behind my eyes from lack of oxygen
when i hold my breath to keep from
screaming for you, baby,
i take burn victim to a whole new level
every inch of my flesh is seared with the memory of you
and how you held me together
you were my glue
and i pretended i was a brick wall
cemented in my solidity and incapable of crumbling
because i didn't think you'd feel very safe
inside walls so easily knocked down
it's my fault the city's been evacuated
i knew the limits of the towering glass structures
built them up with my own trembling hands
and so when you sit there
cheek bleeding from a stray shard of my
self destruction
remember that i was too selfish
to save you
Oct 2014 · 405
The Silly Poem
Pretty Panic Oct 2014
I'll admit that I’m not proud of my decisions
and I'll admit that I’m also proud of my decisions
and I'll tell you that it's always easier to ride a water slide when the water's running and
I know that my middle name is rather unextraordinary and
that yellow is not a color that looks good on me regardless of the weather
and I know that I’m a Pisces  even though I bear no resemblance to a fish
curving or otherwise
and I know that the moon is possibly the most magnificent thing in the sky in the middle of the night
and I understand the difference between love and lust and
I’ve learned that amends are hard to make
but so are almonds and trees do it all the time
I know that I’m only human and I’m going to make mistakes
but I also know that I’m human and I’m capable of amazing things
I know that there are colors in the universe that I’ll never see
and I know that the color of my eyes is probably the most profound of those
and I understand that love is not an unkind thing and that
not everything lovely will belong to me
I know the difference between fighting and arguing
and I know how to apologize even when my throat is begging me not to
I’m a realistic fantast and I know that cynicism isn’t charming
no matter how angular your cheekbones are
and I know that being the nicest person in the world won’t save everyone and
I know that just because I cry doesn’t mean I’ll feel better
and I know that cookie dough does indeed fix everything
and I learned through trial and error that every yellow light is just a green light playing coy
and maybe my wrists are a little small and my bones stick out a little too much
and I’m perpetually in a state of winter
but I also know that I’ve got thin red lines healing on my skin
and a best friend who threw away my razor because I couldn’t bear to do it
and I know that I’ve got a grandmother who makes pasta for me
every time I come over
because she knows I could use the carbs
and I’ve got a dog that makes me remember the point of wearing a seat belt
and coming home every day
and I know that I hurt a lot and I feel things so incredibly fiercely and
I know that just because it hurts doesn’t mean I won’t survive
after all if I’ve told you anything at all
it’s that even in the midst of contemplating ways to die
I still find a million reasons to be
Oct 2014 · 383
Beautiful Disaster
Pretty Panic Oct 2014
i find that sometimes in the midst of feeling like i am
something creeps up the back of my neck like a
tidal wave of anticipation that tastes sour like the church wine
i've only had once
in a time when i was too young to realize that
it's only for those that believe
i find that i am
philisophically bound to repeat the
same things
over and over
and over and
over and over
until it's all just bleeding words
and gaping fingerprint spaces
and maybe that means that you were never right for me
or maybe it means that you've gone and
left me incomplete
i can't tell if being able to survive without you now
means i'm falling into a glacier of used-to-be
tailspining break-me-jaggedly affection that somehow
is subdued yet no less disasterous
i hold myself to the achingly high standard of being able to be fine
all on my own
yet still expecting someone to somehow know
that i need them
to hold my hand and press the tears from my eyes with their weathered thumbs
rain is the only weather i ever feel safe in
and in my eyes there are black rings around blue rings around white
feelings of being lost in the mindset
that i am no more than the flower at the end of field
forgotten and left to the wind for no other reason than because
my distance makes me undesirable
i am shaking shifting shattering stinging slipping stumbling stuttering still
wrapped in words of endlessly undefinition
sighing like god himself has pressed a hand too hard to my ribs
pressed myself out of my lungs and snatched my spirit around the neck
not even my shadows can breathe in the dark
of never-finding-the-exit hallways and tripping-through-hours staircases
i am dash-dash-dash-dash-dash-dash-dash-dash
take a pair of scissors to my theories with your unwavering
no trembling breaths no warm gentle touch no proof for myself no belief
in the surroundings of my brain
i am lost in the week like i am lost in my weight
the numbers keep shifting and they never go up never go up never go up
i waited so long to be small like the small people who always got the love
that i knew would never be meant for me
small like the amount of time i am fearless
small like the things that i wished to be
and now that i am small it seems that small is all i can be
i take it back take it back take it back all the way to that january morning in the
dentist waiting room when i first declared my wish
take it back take it back take it back
like the moment your fingers slipped through mine took me back to the first time
i got to understand what it means to drip drip drip
overwhelming desire
i would have kissed you that night only if you had whispered the want for it
in my mouth
but there is a deeply rooted problem in my branches that has stemmed not from the earth
but from the people taking care of my limbs
and leaves and sometimes they forget that i am a tree and maybe the reason
the dead things decay is because only when left abandoned do we really
start to understand what it means to fade
or maybe like words fingers run over they die simply from the weight
of love never ceasing
i have so many disconnected theories and maybe the reason i don't know how to understand
myself is because
i am a cause and effect action and reaction question and answer statement and reply all
rolled into a chest with ribs that are too small to cage the
confusion overflowing from inside
when i say i am a tidal wave i do not mean that i am good to catch a surf
i mean i am wipe-out-your-world-in-five-seconds-flat terrifying
do not rest easy on my shores
i have no idea how to swim and i would never
ask you to drown with me
Pretty Panic Oct 2014
Oct 2014 · 636
a l i v e
Pretty Panic Oct 2014
i can feel my pulse in my shoulder blades and
sometimes i'm out of breath for no reason and
there's glitter in my eyelashes
and homie is my new word
and i have rings on even though i hate rings and
driving makes me forget my name and
sometimes i fall asleep in the middle of a sudoku game
and really there is something to be said for being alive
Oct 2014 · 367
Last Taste
Pretty Panic Oct 2014
everything tastes bitter in my mouth
compared to the memory of you linger on my lips
four in the morning is the worst time to whisper secrets
you told me to shut up
when i tried to talk myself out of you
your mouth was so sweet
sugar sours on my taste buds
because that was my last taste of you
Oct 2014 · 408
Backwards Lover
Pretty Panic Oct 2014
i meet the frozen-lake blue gaze
of my backwards lover
and wonder if maybe that's why her skin
is always frozen-over cold
hinting at the veins underneath like the ice hints
at the water rushing below
wonder if the snow-covered arch of her spine would still
be white-capped if each **** didn't protrude from her skin
my backwards lover is gorgeous
she is a ******* beautiful disaster
words like fractured pavement
each day she's a snowflake that takes a different shape
no two are she the same
i watch my backwards lover with an ever curious gaze
mirroring her movements as she turns her face my way
tilt my chin to let her gaze run over my jaw
hold my breath in the hopes that she'll approve of my
less graceful icy skin
what does it say about me that my backwards lover
always turns away
from my too-warm-to-be-frozen flushed cheeks
turns away from my rib cage that doesn't peek enough to
be dusted with snow
my backwards lover is gorgeous
she is a ******* beautiful disaster
and i am just a mistake

— The End —