not everyone will truly understand
everything you have to offer -

and that's okay.

you're an anagram;
only a selected few get to know the real you -

the perfected and improving sides
to a complex, yet beautiful masterpiece.

- v.m

our fingers lace
in a vast depressing attempt to keep safe from yourself
i feel responsibility in the slits that take form in your psyche
i should learn how to stop
learn how to breathe
learn how to not
fantastic uncertainty for days unknown
does not equate misery by my shattering ribcage
please think of me again
remember my name and let me save you next time

I write codes for a living
But I can't decode this life we're living!

I called someone a
*******
did they know
that they had an
Oedipus complex?
I make Frued proud
on a daily basis.

because that's exactly who you are, you'd crash your car and blame the road, hang yourself then blame the rope.


― victim complex

you cut the ties with silver scissors and burnt the bridge with fictitious fires but you still insist you're the one who fell and scraped your knees with ****** fists on broken glass and sharp white teeth.

things have changed and the past is dead. these bridges you burnt are not meant to mend.

give up. go away. that's it―
the end.


― you're not the victim, you never were

paintbrush strokes brush the canvas
each bristle individually placed upon a blank slate
nothing but color as an image of her thoughts
put up as a masterpiece for everyone to admire

behind the beauty of the artwork
hides the blank canvas
no bristles, nothing but a clean slate
for the painter to paint away their thoughts