have you ever wondered why the sky turns gray when it rains?
well, in every creature, there is darkness, and there is light.
and when you start to give up the fight,
the fight for happiness, love, life, when you start to lose hope,
the darkness starts to bleed into your light. but it's okay.
the color can come back. first, ask to talk to someone.
ask them to listen.
then, hold nothing back. don't stop until you understand
how you feel. what you want.
don't worry. it's not selfish to talk about it.
not to the people who care about you.
it will take time, but if you do this, someday, a rainbow will come shining through

Must there be the voice of an old man
To be inspired by wisdom?
Must there be intelligible words
To guess out the intention?
Must there be vulnerability
To presume the proper truth?

　　There ain’t a single channel
　　On the interface of dialogue.

Must we lie only in whispers
To keep hurt under the seal?
Must we sigh only in earnest
To show others where we bleed?
Must we die only in peace
To pass the torch with ease?

　　There ain’t a single channel
　　On the interface of dialogue.

Dripping weekend wrist marks
Dance in the happy rain
Booming base and bleeding
Let it rush down your face
Feel it trickle down your tights
It’ll all be over now.

What's stuck deep would always stay stuck deep!
You pluck it you bleed,
You pluck dont you still bleed.

She wished to paint with watercolors
because they bled all over the paper
Like her emotions bled all out of her wrists
but never out of her mouth

She wished there was a way to be beautiful
and still tell the truth of her messy, wild life

She was reaching for her razor blade
When the watercolors called to her
There is a better way
There is an easier way than this, they whispered
She wanted to believe it
but didn't know if it was worth the risk
didn't want to look weak

There was no pain involved in this new way
Only beauty bleeding from her heart
Instead of her skin
Was it worth it?
to leave paint stains rather than scars on her arms

The tears that razor emotions bleed,
                  can we ever recover from

those momentary eclipses

that smother light from the darkest needing..
                                                               Silence...

Your broken parts are jagged, —

I cut myself when I was trying to gather them

And match them to mine.

Over and over, I bled bright scarlet onto your shattered China,

Until I created something halfway decent

And stopped to admire what I'd done.


I found a way to make it all fit

As if the Almighty had put us together like puzzles, —

I could have lied

Proudly stated how nicely

My sorrows played with yours.


But, my dearest,

That isn't the way

The man pulling the strings

Wanted this to work.

Our hearts never make the same clean breaks as our bones, —

We were built to spill our vulnerability for all to see

Hearts made ultra-sensitive

So that we'd always be sure to feel the pain.


Love's a bleeding thing, you see, —

We're all too likely to bite the hand that caresses us

Take a blade to the back we promised to stay behind

Highlight the worst words to come from the same mouths that we've kissed

As long as we get to see that same result.


Passion is not a selfless creature, —

It's an untamed beast

Taking delight in the heady lust of treachery

Finding romance in the primal notion:

If I bleed

You will, too.


Love is not for those without will

Or those who can not part

With certain parts of themselves

That will certainly be drained

By the vampire of devotion.


Love is for the well-meaning naïve

Much like myself

But, be warned,

Even those who wait on the suffering hand and foot

Are not selfless

Nor innocent.


Affection can be just as carnal a need

As a lust for blood.

It is a hunger

That might someday destroy me.

Until then

Here I will stay

Jagged bits of porcelain heart in my hands

Until I lick my own lifeblood from my skin

Blindly hoping that, this time,

The thirst might be sated.