To start your mornings with
blood on your hands
smearing across pages
is
incriminating
and inspiring
And you must know
if you were to slice open
my veins would also
spill black fountain ink
If you were to sever my tongue
my hands would speak
for me
Go ahead and gouge my eyes
I can still see
And when I die I desire
to be cut as a cadaver
All the words visible
under paper-white skin
so they will know, too.
I do not aspire to be a skeleton
with brittle bones
I want blood
to pour with every pinprick
of a pilot pen pressed
on a page
But blood makes people squirm
Blood makes people gag
so I intend to
leave this world
with a crime scene behind me.
Let them shake and shudder
for they know not
the life they’ve lost
They live in fear of papercuts
and I carve myself open
again and again
And I will continue to
until I bleed out
and my ink dries up
If it sounds violent it’s
because it has to be
The world could use a
few more bloodstains
Makes it more uncomfortable
Makes it more interesting.

Sometimes I think about dying in my sleep
Working up a way so that they won't be ashamed of me
Instead of strung up by the ceiling fan maybe I could go in peace
Then I wonder what kind of note I'd leave
Saying don't blame yourself this is how it had to be
The days drag on and the blood becomes a coursing stream
The blade slips from my fingers being the end of me
Because a bullet to the brain would be too gruesome for them to see
The lines spell out "**** me please"
It's all ruined now life just isn't worth living
So please just ignore me
Try to block out my loud depressed weeping
The pills make it worse and therapy isn't helping
I don't wanna die but this is what became of me
What the voices in my head are telling me to be
So now I promise I'm not gonna leave
Because death is too easy
The real challenge is living
So I'll live but only because I love you

All my cuts and scrapes
Have been exposed









Ouch,
So much this burns

We joined ourselves
Mind, body, and soul
Is that not forever
You must've known some magic
I didn't
And had the heart to cast it
Because I didn't

"I said, there is home."
to nobody.
different names never changed
a **** thing.
we could see no people
to/who/that learn how idle
doesn't mean "still".
they've made a god of progress;
progress is toothpaste in a sink.

who couldve sown those ideas
together had they not been
all blinking buzzing neon sign
in the window of the page?

probably quite alot of folks
had they not been so busy
wiping dried blue Colgate off
of porcelain.

simple, remember?

so it goes.
always.
dosey doe down long hallways,
around puddles of ****,
singing songs long faded
to ambient noise.
please, mumble a myth for the void to posion.
the void in your avoidance.
the void in the poignancy.
the void on the points of stolen steak knives stuck in the hearts of the strigoi
shuffling outside our windows
day and night.

drip gold from the mouths of memorial statues,
we need that.
badly.

what is that strange other end
of somehow?

Zeno's favorite number?

The sun shines down, taking in slowly
Thoughts swirling in my head
Too many to sort, falling in a hole
They say I won't change

Just circles like a vulture
Just a dumb smart girl
Nothing to show that is good
My truth is hidden within

My feelings pushed down
Tounge feeling like a ton
Twisting my words why don't you
It's not like I can bleed much longer

Is this me
what have I become
corrupted by darkness
it seems so long since the scarring begun
I thought I would heal
from the torment and hate
mentally and physically
cut with double edged blade

should I just stop now
pain has me hooked
I have no tears left to cry
I cover it up, overlooked
but deep down inside
I try so hard to hide
but scars can last forever
inside, and outside