The spring in your steps
And the spring in nature
Playing a match
That let me have a catch
Of a bit of happiness
In all my loneliness

In all my loneliness
This weather makes me
Light as a feather
Dreaming of us together*

Dreaming of us together
In a fairyland
We claim as ours
Where a vast meadow
Filled with flowers
Dancing as the wind blows

Dancing as the wind blows
Taking away my woes
Sun rays kissing our skin
Let the light shine upon us

I often think about how and why our lives intersected
and how strange it was that we used to be nothing more
than two bright-eyed five-year-old kids
in the same kindergarten class over a decade ago
and how now we were lying down side-by-side listening to Hozier
through his beat-up headphones and stargazing in the back of someone’s pickup truck

and it’s strange how
neither of us had the courage to point out
the fact that there were no visible stars in the cloudy sky that night
because
that
didn’t
matter


all that mattered was the fact that for an eternity and a half,
I had felt more like a glass left half-empty and yet now I wished
that this moment would never end,
that we could just lie here in the freezing cold that burned my bones to the core
just because my head rested fine on his chest and that was enough

and I wonder why it’s so hard for me to open up to him
even though he unfolds himself for me,
opens up doors to his beautiful soul just so I am able to peek through
the cabinets where he stores all of his reasons to live, and
where he hides the parts of him that he would get rid of, if he had a choice

I want to tell him about the poetry I have found in the way he walks,
he talks,
he breathes, and
how staring into those ocean eyes makes me feel
like I’ve suddenly hit the bottom, permanently gasping for air,
but
I love it,
I love it,
I love it,

and as we stare up at the sky
in the back of an old pickup truck
by an old crumbling church,

my God, his voice matches the silent hum of the street lights,
burning in sync with our imaginary stars
and at this moment, I am no longer an almost-empty glass,
I am alive

Everyday is pain
The struggle
Of living
Tear filled eyes
Dry throat
No point in crying-
Who's listening anyway

Shattered
Broken
Bent
Heavy eyes
Heavy heart
Nothing beneath it all
Nothing on the outside
Empty

There's a funny thing about sadness
The way it surrounds you so you feel whole
Nothing else is let in
Except the sorrow and the pain
You can see the happiness
But never feel it
Want it
But not have it
There's a funny thing about sadness
How you become so familiar with it you can't feel anything else.

I almost never look at them anymore
The scars left behind
White lines
And Dashes
Across my left wrist
One from when my cat scratched me
One from the first time I coped with a blade
One from before I knew how to hide them
I almost never look
But they’re still there, and they look at me
And sometimes, 8 years later
I get so unstable
I want to pick up the scissors
I want to see the pain taking form
So that I don’t have to hold it in
Anymore, but
I don’t because I feel like
It would create a burden on you that
I’m not willing to place and
Because I know I’m stronger than the scissor blades
And because
I like to wear sleeveless shirts even in the winter

Because your mind is bigger than the milky way. As it stretches and bends between universes all i can think about is how your eyes burn holes into my absence. You sheets cannot even compare to how ***** your intentions are with each and every outstanding other walking the same plain as you. If as if your field branches while setting fire to innocent people with sins as cold as black. Yet at one point i thought i connected your stars. I thought the planets were completely aligned for only me. I thought all the galaxies just matched up perfectly together in such harmony that the gods would be jealous of it's perfection. But i quickly realized you my existence is nothing compared to this entire space

I want to waste Thursday nights with you
and nine-thirties
and Saturday mornings.
I want to scavenge through tiny bookstores with you
and read melancholy poems with you
and watch the rain fall like I did for you.
I want to watch scary films with you
and cover your eyes with my hands
and hide from the ghosts under blankets.
I want to spend winter days with you
and frolic in autumn leaves
and indulge in the springtime air.
I wanted to be with you forever
and call myself yours
and call you mine.
But we’re only granted the things we need, not want.
and I want you to love me
and I want you to miss me
But I need you to need me the way I need you.

I thought i was getting better,
But im so far from it.
Constantly having these thoughts running through my head.
I keep having this dream
of what i did when i used to be like this.
Im in the bathroom, where i go to hide from this family
This family that hates me, makes me feel pain
Im sitting on the toilet, ive got my special blue kit
Youd never guess thats where i keep all my secrets.
I pick the newest  blade, the one that'll do the most damage
I put it to my skin and quickly draw down on it
Red liquid comes out and makes me feel alive
So i do another one, another one, until i feel fine.
I wipe up the mess, throw the paper in the toilet, flush it all away so no one will ever find it.
Its not like they've noticed, let alone cared
Pretty much invisible, until someone gets mad
Then they come to me and let it all out
It doesnt phase me, or at least thats how i act
But they dont know what goes on behind the bathroom door,
Where i spill out my emotions and clean them off the floor.
So ill stick with being silent, invisible, unnoticed
Itll only make it easer when im no longer at their service