I recall such a freezing winter morn
The sun erasing the stars in the skies
With frozen flower buds all weak and worn
Their snowy cloaks a glassy paradise

Back then the clouds felled shining bright white flakes
That shattered on the ground in sparkling gleam
And buried in the banks were garden snakes
Encapsulated in their icy streams

When standing right beside me, there was you
Warm breath creating soft clouds in the air
Now tears drip from work done and left to do
Your blood has dyed deep red the snow once fair

For back then there was life and hope and zen
And deaths like yours reclaim those things again

I know why
I flinch at your
touch
I know why
I shiver every single
time you say my
name
I know why
even the mention of
seeing you makes
my heart
swell.

I am cold
I am dark
I am hostile
I am alone
You are warm
You are bright
You are open
You are home.

so there's this boy
he wears plaid, is kind of cute, i guess?
i raised him straight from the worst
and still, he hates himself everyday
why can't it stop?

so there's this angel
he wears a trench coat, is really cute, i guess?
he raised me straight from hell
and i don't know why, but i hate myself everyday
why did it start?

so there's this boy
and i try to keep him happy
but it seems like he's going back to hell again
how does it stop?

so there's this angel
and he tries to keep me happy
but i feel like i'm going back to hell again
how does it stop?

so there's this boy
and he hasn't come home
maybe he was drunk?
was he still out on his hunt?

so there's this angel
and i feel horrible to leave him
did he think i was out drinking?
or did he think i was still on my hunt?

so there's this boy
and he hasn't been home in a few days
did he leave?
usually things are supposed to end with goodbyes

so there's this angel
and i watch over him everyday
i feel bad for leaving
it's kind of ironic, watching after your guardian angel

Creativity
is not measured by how many
love songs there are on the
radio
Writing one more
does not make love songs
unoriginal
Nor does it make it
bad to like love songs
All it does
is put a new love song
into the world

Creativity
is not making something
that has never been made before

Creativity
is making something.

And if you hate love songs
then go ahead
tell me they're not original
tell me they're too mainstream
tell me there's no other subject these days
tell me how that annoys you.
But don't tell me
that making something
isn't worth celebrating

Don't tell me
creativity is only what
you think it is

If your pain is so real
then what is mine?
Your demons are tangible
Your demons are the ones that
push the weaker kids into lockers
Your demons are the ones that
open your heart
only to raid it and leave it bleeding
My demons - my demons do not exist
in the face of yours
Mine are silent
(Except in my head)
My demons scream at me
They tell me about being too fat (or too skinny)
or too stupid (or too pretentious)
or being too much of a disappointment
Your demons prove that you are worth fighting over
Mine prove that there is nothing to fight for
If your pain is so real
then what is mine?

If your cuts are too shallow
then what are mine?
At least yours will fade in time
Mine are digusting
lingering
They remind me constantly of how I have failed
of how I will inevitably continue failing
My skin doesn't sting
(If I squeeze my eyelids hard enough)
You need yours to hurt more
To remind yourself what pain feels like
instead of numbness
I'm so much less romantic.
I need to remind myself what punishment feels like
I deserve to be punished
You do not deserve to be punished
You do not deserve your scars to be permanent
but I do
If your cuts are too shallow
then what are mine?

If you are human
then what am I?
Because if your mistakes are what count
then I have made enough to spare
And if it's your torment that decides it
send me a membership letter
At least tell me I'm something
Because what I have seen is not part of a competition
What I think
should not be compared with what you do
My impact
should not be compared with yours
Making a struggle into a prize
That makes me inhuman
So if it's pain that makes you real
then at least act like I have a ******* heart
And don't tell me that
I don't know what it's like.
If you are human
then what am I?

I wish that I had been willing
to save myself

When I am alone
No one is there to notice me
And there is no me to be noticed.
I am free.
Free from the constructs
that have only broken me down
Free from judgemental faces
Black eyes boring into my soul
Because I'm not good enough.
Not when I'm alone.
When I am alone
I am the only one there who can hurt me.
I am the only one who has the chance
And I am the only one who takes it.

You are the reason I want to die
And also the reason I want to keep living.
It's not fair.
No one should have that much power.