i should be asleep but instead I'm up
i have been painting and drawing
i am happy
that word sounds strange in my mouth
i havent spoken it in so long
things do get better
you just have to hold on
i wanted it all to stop
and i almost did
but now I'm happy
you can do it too
i know its hard
gods do i know
but i believe in you
and if you ever need somebody to talk to
and to listen to you
I'm here
so just hold on

I'll give you a butterfly and name it after me
I'll tell you not to hurt it its fragile and small
You have to wait to set it free
I know its hard but even if you fall
Don't **** the butterfly
I know it hurts
But don't be the one to make it die
So lesten to the words on paper with blood spurts
Love the butterfly like I love you
And you will get better
Because if you only knew
How much love I put in to this letter

I tried to write your resurrection
with a string of adverbs.
Tried to call breathe
back into your empty lungs with my words.

Some nights I will whisper
your name over and over again
as though the very act of repetition
will call you back.

I have learnt now,
that the walls of your casket
are just too strong to pierce
with similes and poetry.

Last night I cleared the desk.
Laid down the pen,
closed the thesaurus
and shelved the dictionary.

I said goodbye last night.
I shut off the light,
closed the door,
and walked away.

Its November 26 and my mom still hasn't noticed the empty bottles of Tylenol and Ibuprofen under my bed. Those pretty much became the end to hunger pains when I stopped eating. Its not that I don't like my body, I don't really have a way to excuse myself for fasting at all. I guess eating just became another thing I was disgusted with.
Its November 26, in 28 months my dad will be out of prison. I wonder where we will go then.
Its November 26, no one can say they love me without a "but" or apology following it. I guess nothing changes, so ill just change myself.
Its November 26 and I've given up on cutting and moved onto bigger and better things. Why hurt myself when I can down a bottle and avoid scarring? Works for me.

Sleep is gentler when my olfaction is full of
smoke and spice and a hint of shampoo
(like Christmas with you in a log cabin)
And my ossicles still vibrate with variations of my name
and low tones of “I love you”s without the actual
three words.

I find peace in the way our knuckles inhibit that perfect fit
of our fingers, but we lace them regardless.
It seems your thumb on my cheekbone
and your strength blanketing my quivering being
are the only things that normalize my oxygen flow
and slow my racing heart after a ****
memory-mare
(nightmares are bad enough
memories are worse)

And most nights,
when your calloused fingertips paint circles between my shoulder blades,
I wake in the early morning
not with a scream
but with a welcoming sigh
to that crooked smile meeting mine.

A night with you is a night safe from ghosts.

There's no such thing as happily ever after. No harmony lasts that long.  There is such a thing as forever though. Loving someone forever even during rough patches when the harmony slides off key until it gets better. Because it will.

REPOST IF YOU HAVE PROMISED SOMEONE FOREVER, AND MEANT IT.
Please comment I love to read other people's interpretations of my poetry!

If you ever think about me and it hurts,
I'm sorry but you did this to yourself.
I tried, gave it my all,
and it wasn't enough for you.
I don't regret trying and failing,
because you were worth every attempt:
You helped me out of a bad place and,
despite the fact that you put me back into a darker one,
I am no longer afraid of the darkness.
So I'm sorry I was wrong,
and hopefully your decision reflects what you truly desire in life.
I hope you can find light in the situation,
as I have begun to do;
If you ever need me,
I'm still here if no one else is around
to catch you if you fall.