I don’t need you to psychoanalyze
my every reaction,

I left out punctuation
when I responded to you,
I gave you a one worded answer,
I let my head hang
a little lower today,
and I wanted to be alone

I don’t need your ******* Freudian theories,
and you can keep your ******* remedies
because no amount of positive thinking
is going to slow my mind’s decay

And I don’t need to justify myself,
to someone who is practically a stranger

If I can’t comprehend
what my mind does to me some days
enough to put it into words,
neither can you.

- S.G.

I hear voices in the walls,
footsteps of ghosts walking down my hall,
and though I know I created them
I still can’t help but be afraid

They speak in whispers
telling me what I want to hear,
giving me someone to blame,
someone other than myself

but if they really are all in my mind,
I guess I’m just sending myself in circles

maybe that’s why my head
always feels like it’s spinning

Or maybe I just
cannot fathom why I would
construct such a thing that would
aid my demise, as it convinces me
that it is all I need

giving me the illusion that
my feet are steady on the ground
while it pushes me
closer and closer to the edge

- S.G.

Every poet writes of
the moon as if they know her,
drinks coffee like water,
and overuses words that
they have never even said aloud

Because no one truly cares
what the writer felt,
if the interpretation
did not feel relative to the reader himself

       An indent here,
a story about bruised knees,
a summer that should have never ended,
and love that should have
                  before it even began
A copy of a copy,
of a copy, of a copy

and no one seems to notice,
unless while reading,
they felt nothing similar

I could tell you I have flowers
sprouting from my rib-cage,
and a rabbit thumping away in my chest,

but if that means nothing to you
I become just another
******, wannabe internet writer
who failed to make
your heart-strings
resound

- S.G.

Let me fill the
extra space between
your sheets

miss me
when you don’t wake up
to whispered hellos
between half-sleep kisses

and if your
wandering hands can’t
find my warmth
at 3am when you wake
from a dream
wish for me

- S.G.

For a while
I thought I had
a debt to pay

that the more
I let this take from me
and the smaller I became,
my fears
would do just the same

and as the stomach acid
burned my lips and tongue
I believed it’s sensation
was the physical
manifestation
of the nightmares
pouring out of me

merely side-effects
of my own exorcism

- S.G.

I want to watch all
The teeth fall out
Of my mouth
My eyes sink
Into my skull
Every hair
Fall out of my head

Brittle nails and blue fingertips
Yellowing patches
And skin
Clear enough to see rivers
Flowing beneath
Canvased tight,
as if my bones
Are just hoping to break free

To cut through
The canvas with
The knife my grandfather
Gave me
Spilling everything

Every word
I could never get out
Every time getting
Caught on
The tip of my tongue

No glass half full
Or half empty
I want to be as shallow
as it gets

When the waves
Crash against the shoreline
Making their way up
To meet your sand-covered toes,
That is as shallow as
The water gets

I could never
Be so versatile
As the ocean

I have to choose,
And what’s the point of
Such strong feelings
If they are always trapped
And writhing
On my inside

- S.G.

"You’re not bitter anymore"
She spit it out like
Old, tasteless gum

And I wanted to retort:
“You’re ******* right
I’m not bitter
I’m not sorry that I left
And it doesn’t hurt to
Keep leaving you anymore
sometimes I even hope
It’s the last time I do”

But all that came out was:
“I know, I’m getting better”

Better without you
And I know that’s why
It sounded like an insult
When you said it to me

- S.G.