Stuck in the swallowing
emptiness. Unkown envy
screams from within my 
shuddering bones.
I breathe and try to ground
my mind as it skips among
the fields of hellfire
that surround my very being.

Of course, I always find
everlasting comfort in their
warmth.
As they burn my flesh
from my bone,
I am reminded of
the welcoming numbness.

You always made it known
protested with a ***** and moan
about how my lips curled around cigarettes
when you aren’t home.

Testifying in a patronizing tone
that someday I’d end up alone
if the habit wasn’t thrown.

You just envied
the way they were slowly ******* my life
wishing you still had that power.

​Anger, the seductress
Lips as red as sin
A swirl of flames fall to her shoulders
In curls of scarlet ribbons

Envy, with her scowls
And eyes of darkest green
Insecure in her olive skin
Ever the angsty teen

Fear, the wallflower
Mousy and so pale
Delicate hands atremble
Half-hidden under her veil.

Joy, her golden locks,
Dripping into her eyes
A daisy twirling in the meadow
Full of sunshine and surprise.

Melancholy, with her lovers
Countless as the stars
An enchantress leaving behind her
A trail of broken hearts.

I don't talk about my problems because I don't want my problems to become yours.
I don't want you to adopt my destructive habits and thoughts. The way I avoid questions and disguise bad situations.
I don't talk about the things I have had to experience, not because I don't want you to know those things about me, but because I know that they will change you. In some way. Maybe they will change the way you see me, the way you treat me, or maybe even the way you see the rest of the world and yourself.
I don't want to tell you every detail about my relations with men because I don't want you to fear them as well.
I don't want to tell you about the harassment and torture I endured throughout the years because I don't want to reveal the things that hurt me.
I don't want to tell you about my eating disorders and the way I think because I don't want to give you an instruction manual on ******* yourself.

I avoid becoming too personal with people because it makes me vulnerable. I do not favor being used.

I get irrationally angry when I see that my friends are going through the same problems as me. Maybe it is because I care about them, or it could be because I am jealous. I honestly don't know.

I feel like I am doing a lot and not enough at the same time, and I hate myself for it. I punish myself with restless nights of crying and bleeding, torture myself with challenges against successful people, push myself to the brink of pain and defeat because I know I am cable of being successful. So why do I not just do more?

I want you.

Let me make you the girl I write about,
Let me make you the one they envy -
Give it a chance and take me.
And I’ll be honest,
I’m really not that handsome,
but my loving heart’s a mansion.
Let us be together,
and I promise I’ll love you forever.
I’m really not rich nor do I drive a supercar,
but I know you’re worth more than the stars.
I would take a rocket and fly a million miles,
if it meant I got to be up close for your precious smile!
Life’s tough, but for you I’ll be tougher,
I’ll never break your heart, I’ll end the suffer.
You’ve gotten it all from me,
possession, confessions, temptation -
Let me heal you of your deprivation.
I’ll make it up to you in time,
but first let me call you mine.

blue and white
cast upon you
like rice at a wedding
they follow
wanting
lusting
calling
cursing
but how to ward them?
when you ache
and plead
with yourself
your empty bank account,
god
for something you find beautiful
in another
yes, the evil eyes are always watching
because
they are yours.