If I may be so bold
What would you do if you were told
That your emotions can't be sold
For more than your weight in gold?

Your eyes are dry and black,
Your feelings indeed lack
An emotion that is slack;
And without it, you're off track.

I do it too often gotta lock my pen up
Put it in a coffin
It happens when I talk to anyone
Tried to stop it but my gift is on its own time it keeps on going
My constant writing gets annoying And everyone keeps on pointing
Wondering when my time will come
And then I can laugh in everyones face rejoicing

I am recycled like a paper bag

who is used over and over again

i tend to carry too much weight

that sometimes I'll begin to break

meaning I can no longer hold all of that weight

and i hope and pray it'll all go away

but it somehow seems to stay.

Wounds that never heal
Do I deserve this torture?
Whatever, I'm fine.

today
      smells of
              cut grass
                 stuck to
             flesh
     in the heat of                                    
       summer                           you
                                             tasted
                                          so
                                     familiar
                                   and i
                                  thought
                            your glass
                       would shatter
                             if i laid
                            my hands
                               on you
                                    so
                                     i'll pretend
                                         you're a ghost
                                                instead          
                                                  and say
                                                     something like
                                                      my river
                                                       is on
                                                     fire

You little ****. Who gave you the right to decide that for me? I am my own person, if you don't like my choices then leave. Talk to me and we'll figure something out, that's how easy it'd be. If you would help me out, rather than call me out, sobriety would be an easier goal to achieve. But no, you shout and you shout, telling me I've done wrong. Commanding me to change rather than asking how to help me stop... You don't know half of the things I've seen and I've done. What happened to me to make me want to replace the missing pieces. The dark parts of my childhood, how I became a woman at the age of eight. How my step father touched me in that place. That place no little girl should have touched at that age. How dealing with high expectations that I know I cannot meet, not because I don't want to, but because my disability ties down my hands and feet. Feeling trapped by what happened to me. Living with that monster, pretending it's all okay. Controlling all my flashbacks and panic attacks. Pretending to be strong for five younger siblings who look up to me. Setting a perfect example, wearing myself down, ripping myself apart to satisfy everyone's needs. Trying my hardest to keep everyone around me happy because I know what it's like to hate yourself so much your pores ooze self doubt and insecurities. So sorry I drink and smoke **** and I don't meet your religious needs. Just let me finish this last cigarette please.

I want to be real
Not fake
Something so good
You can't take a breath
Breathe
Love me for me
Not something I'm not
I'm far from lonely
And you're all that I've got