What’s it called when someone doesn’t want to get better? When they don’t necessarily want to get worse, but they also don’t want to better. Scratch that. Maybe they do want to get worse. Maybe they deserve to get worse. Maybe they deserve all this pain. I deserve all this pain. I am not good. I am not kind. I am not strong. I am everything but. I am a body built on anger and shame. My hands hold on more tightly to this sadness than the love of my life. And I can’t bring myself to let go. It feels like the tighter I hold onto this feeling the farther away you get and there’s nothing I can do to stop it. I can’t stop hurting the people I love. I can’t stop hurting you. And maybe it’s because there are days when I wake up and I don’t feel anything unless I’m hurting you. And I need you to hurt because I need to feel something. I NEED YOU TO MAKE ME FEEL AGAIN. And I know that’s too much to ask of you. I am too much to ask of you. What kind of person wants the one they love to hurt? What kind of person makes other people suffer? What kind of person tells someone they don’t love them anymore? Why would I tell you I don’t love you, when you’re the brightest thing in my life? Why do I need you to hurt to make me feel better? What is wrong with me? There is a monster living in my brain and sometimes I can’t keep it quiet. I promise it’s not me. But sometimes I can’t tell the difference between the thoughts in my head and the truth. I feel like a stranger in my own skin and you are not safe here with me. YOU ARE NOT SAFE. I cannot promise you love and beauty and kindness and joy. I cannot promise that I will wake up everyday and kiss the sunrise good morning. I cannot promise that I will be calm. I am full of natural disasters and chaos. This body holds a ******* storm and I don’t know how to protect you from it. This body is not beautiful, this heart is not kind, this soul is not gentle. I am not gentle. I’m sorry I can’t love you the way you deserve but god made my body into a palace, and the monster in me turned it into a temple where love goes to die.

Do you remember the night you never came back?
When you gave yourself to someone who didn’t deserve you?
And by gave, I mean he took
He took and he took and he took
Until there was no more you to take 
And just like that you are empty 
No one wants a girl who’s got nothing to give 
You have to have learned by now that giving and taking are not the same thing 
Just because you love him
Does not make it giving 
He is taking everything that you are
And he is destroying it
STOP LETTING HIM TOUCH YOU
You’re too young to give him what he’s taking 
And now it’s gone, you can’t get it back
You are no longer special 
You’re going to be washing him out of your skin forever 
But jokes on you 
**** doesn’t wash off 

I’m still trying to wash you off of me

Can I give back this life?
I don’t want it anymore
or maybe it doesn’t want me 
I can never tell 
if I am too much 
or too little
All I know is 
I am never in between
and maybe that’s why 
nobody stays
This body holds a tornado 
and it destroys everything 
it touches 
Matches always burn the brightest
before they burn out
and maybe that’s why 
I’ve been told my smile 
is so bright

Memories like broken glass
                     fill my heart                    my sensible soul
                                    shards of you
                                                                     remain
                  Tattering this perspective
                                  Leaving a broken person
                                                       behind                        these eyes
                  This Kerouac perception
                                       mounted on confusion
               for                                                      feelings left
                                          undisclosed
            Baffling me like a child
                                                         Thunder and rain my
                    only solace
                                                       dark clouds             my psyche
mutually bound
                                      Like hurricane Galveston
   ripping apart               these thoughts                 these transgressions
                                     mortally comforting
          like cigarettes on Sunday
                                                             reaching forth      
               grasping at straws                                   so they say
                                                 they always say
but do they feel                                                  as I've felt?
                            alone                &                 tempered
                                       as glass
the glum periphery                                engulfing
                                        melting me down                     eating away
       into a pool of nihility
                                                   to harden              to break these chains
feels outdated          unscripted nonsense
                        in the background of my memories            souvenirs
      a setpiece             based on untruths

created        
                 into
                               this
                                          sheer              crystalline              matter

They call
                                                    Glass

Perhaps I am
just a window
for everyone to see through,
to lift me up for their own vanity
only to put me down when
the world grows dark.

I
don't care
anymore.
I feel myself hollowing out
as the world grows bleaker
by the day.
These people
are termites and I
just don't care
anymore.

I would rather
face the sun than
face the shadows and demons
buried deep inside.

I flew above the horizon
Soar high with the eagles
Flew up high to cross the great sea
With my magnificent wings

I joined the clouds on the skies
I flapped and flapped tirelessly
To reach the paradise
On which I can almost see.

The eagles gracefully flew over the mighty mountain
They reached the other side
They have entered their destination
A beautiful paradise.

It is my turn to ascend like them
I charged, pushed myself higher
But I lost my grace, I hit a tree
I fell down to the dirt

I tried to rise from the ground but I can't
Tried all my might but my wings are broken
I can no longer fly
I can no longer land on paradise.

Colored men don’t talk,
Like in the history books.
Their job is to work *****,
Expect (less) what they deserve.
Their potential doesn't matter.

Young men don’t talk,
Doesn’t sound right for their age.
Their job is to stay back, observe,
Let someone (egotistic) mature talk.
Their competence doesn't matter.

Emotional men don’t talk,
People hate tears.
Their job is to **** it up,
Have a (stone-cold) strong heart.
Their credibility doesn't matter.

Unless they accept the truth,
That the world we live in is,
(Racist, narcissistic, bland.)
Perfect in every way.
Their words don’t matter.

Dear diary;
I am my one
and only enemy.
Somehow,
I am content
and depressed
about it all
at once.