I tried to tell myself I can't love another before I can find love in my own body,
but your smile was too bright,
and I knew the butterflies in my stomach weren't towards my chipped black nail polish and sad brown eyes.

maybe love is to watch a thousand winters pass, and still stand by his side because you know he's made of spring

I gave you my heart but instead of taking care of it as you would yours,
you smashed it to pieces so all I was left with was a broken heart and an empty chest.

I remember the first time she was put in jail when I was a teenager.
I was in the psyche hospital twenty minutes out of town,
an out patient facility,
trying my hardest to stop my mind from telling me to rip my skin open.
my dad picked me up that day dressed in his court clothes,
and my mom wasn't with him.
I was expecting that the entire day of course,
but I still broke down when we got into the truck.
my dad and brother work third shift,
and when I started painting a bottle red and slicing it up with a knife,
he called into to work to stay with me for the night.
it was more of his fear of me slicing my skin open instead of the red bottle, than him just keeping me company.
the second time she was put in jail,
I don't even remember it from all the pills I took to numb myself.
I don't remember why she was there,
and I don't remember how the nights felt without her.
today when the cop called me,
I was almost certain she finally crashed her car or took too many pills.
the cop told me she was arrested,
and asked to speak to my father.
the last few weeks between me and her were not good,
you'd think I was being abused if I told you the things she said to me and vice versa,
and who knows,
maybe I was.
now she's going to be in jail for who knows how long,
and the guilt and the regret weighing on my shoulders,
gripping my heart so tight it's hard to breathe,
makes me wish I could hurt myself again,
but what kind of person would I be if I hurt myself when I told you not to?

sad, sleepless, lonely nights are not my friend.
I suppose putting the painful thoughts on paper could do wonders for my mind,
but no poem can make my demons disappear.
sadness comes in waves, and if I don't get thrown a life vest soon,
the waves will swallow me whole, pulling me under piece by piece until I'm nothing of a shell of a human body who once could fake a smile.
making a pen bleed out my words is better than a blade bleeding them from my wrist,
but the thought still consumes me.
I'm terrified that one of these days the blade will grab hold of me
and there won't be any turning back. one of these days,
the blade won't just trace my skin in a desperate attempt for crimson,
it will dig in
and I'll just be another scar.

I want it to hurt,
and maybe if I wish hard enough,
it will.

I keep finding bullets stuck between my teeth
The same ones you bought the day you decided the ceiling would look better covered in blood.
Maybe that’s why everything I say
sounds like it’s is trying to **** me.
But what do you do
when you stand in front of a mirror
with a gun to your head
and your reflection smiles back at you?
What do you do
When you stand in the middle of a busy road
And every driver is a different version of yourself you’ve tried to ****.
Every version of yourself
No one could love.
My mother used to get in fist fights with the mirror and expect to win
She says I look just like her
Maybe that’s why I wake up and can’t recognize who I am.
I checked the obituaries this morning
Trying to find myself again
It’s a habit I picked up from you
But I never thought your name would end up there before mine.
Sometimes I imagine what death feels like
Sometimes I imagine kissing you instead
By now it feels like I’m imagining the same thing.
Someone once told me that begging you to come home
Isn’t the same as praying
Maybe that’s why God stopped listening
and started smashing the windows of every place I thought we could be happy in.
Your smile looked a lot like the light at the end of the tunnel
Right before the train hits you.
I used to squint my eyes when I looked at you
Like I was looking at the sun
Or a car accident I wanted to be part of
I’m sorry I ever thought you could be anything ugly to me
You were the only beautiful thing in this hideous place.
I couldn't look at you clearly,
because I knew I would see my own face staring back at me and
your eyes were the only place I never wanted to be dead inside of.
You can only break your knuckles so many times
Before you cant hold yourself together anymore.
My hands haven’t stopped shaking since you left
I don’t know how to tell them you’re not coming back.
See, I used to say I never wanted to end up like my father
Now I have to say I never want to end up like you,
Which means I can’t leave without saying goodbye
But I tried to write my eulogy last night
And realized it's hard to write about someone I never knew.