Couldn't you spare a glance?
Couldn't you spare a smile?
Couldn't you spare a hey?
Couldn't you spare an indicator that you acknowledge my existence?

I give you my all
But sometimes..
It's like I'm talking to a wall
You're so afraid you're gonna fall
But don't you see I'm here to catch you
You never seem to hear
All you do is fear
You're a brain washed
Something of a girl
You're thoughts are just a whirl
You can't get yourself together
Love the ones who ignore you
Ignore the ones who love you
That's all you do
It's nothing new

I thought it would matter
to you
if I could pen something


~stunning~

the way you always do,
without complications,
problems, or any thoughts
at all.

I wanted my heart
to talk for me
and my soul
to finally roam the way
it should

~free~

Words don't come so easy,
hearts don't have
voices,
souls don't have wings.

I try and I try
to be something I'm not
so maybe you will
like me...

Nights pass and I dont sleep,
days are for learning things
I'll never use
and creating scars
that might never

~heal~

and maybe then
I will know how you
felt the first time
that you

~fell~

All my pens are out
of ink,
my pencils seem to
be missing their
lead tips and
my computer eats

~thoughts~

the way you used to
when you actually knew
who you were.

Time flies,
I don't know
where I am...
What's today,is it
night or is it day

~again~

Am I alone the way it feels
or are there others
out there
sitting in silence
trying to please

~you~

when everyone knows
that they will

~never~

be good enough
for this monster you
became in the darkness
of the world
and the fear your father
instilled in your veins

~blue~

like the tears
streaming down my
cheeks when you
weren't looking.

Does it matter that I'm
writing this in blood
on my bedroom wall
in hopes someday


~someone~

anyone might see
how much you mean
to me?

I write and I write
nothing sounds good
none of this feels right,
so what's the point it's

~not~

like you'll find this
anyway you never
were the one to seek
out your admirers.

~Anyway~

my dear,
the phone is ringing
as if someone actually
has something they want
to say to me

and my mom is
knocking on the door
asking if I'm alright,
the answer is no
though I won't tell her
that, at least not

~tonight~

Kids are laughing
as they toss rocks in the
street and moths
are tapping on the window
longing to get out

I think I should help
them, after all I
know how it feels
to want something so
much and still know
that it is the thing
that will be your very

~end~

I would say I
love you
though it feels
a it like

~hate~

and I know you're
off in ed somewhere
with a girl who will only
last the night

dreaming of all the
things you have and
wondering why you still
aren't happy.

maybe if you met me
if you gave me a chance,
saw me doing everything
for your

~attention~

and learning to write
the way you do
even though each word
kills another cell
I never really had
to begin with.

~Good~

night, my love,
maybe tomorrow will be
better and you will see
a new path to make you

~happy~

in the mean time
I think
I better go now.

I don't like being your
shadow when its already
a dark midnight of horror,
pain, tears, and a lack
of true

~love~

Keeping your eyes closed
While your reflection is trying to see you.

This plainess that I feel right now,
is really quite an art.
The people yelling feverishly are all but just a part.
A part of this humongous ocean tide called life.

It seems like just a day ago, I felt I needed more
I needed visibility, love, and more, more, more.
It feels like just the purity and carelessness of life
is that what I so needed in my attempts at living life.

It turns out you dont have to worry
you don't have to think
about your looks, who loves you and about what you should think.
Apparently this stillness, this plainess that's inside,
this easy going carelessness that you don't have to hide
is just what people notice about you wanting more
about you craving love and attention and what's for you in store.

They'll crave for your attention
and will want to be with you.
It's funny how instead of you
They're the ones craving more.

What if there was another way,
to pass on these raw feelings inside,
not to just pass away,
but to find some way to confide.
I do not want to die by my hand,
but the act I know will shock you,
but I want to continue to stand,
while getting these thoughts through.
I am to great to destroy myself,
at least that is what I always lie,
but if there was a third option,
I would take it rather than to die.
But for now these thought will lie,
ripping at my skull and ribs,
constantly filling our conversations with an ad-lib,
While wanting to break and cry.
I will lash out as the pain erupts,
I cannot control it, although there is regret,
why can I not get over it?
So I will tear myself up inside,
I will not speak, too much pride,
I will have a facade which you will see,
but it is never actually me.

If it gets you through the night,

you could sit there on the couch and pretend that I’m not listening.

We’ve been over this time and again, yet here you are flipped

from side B to side A. I hope your tape breaks and this message

is flipping in the wind on a tab with a marker

marked red. I hope you understand.

My life feels like vacation but my… well everybody

will promise you violence over practically nothing

and I think I deserve a better planet. Instead I’m here.

It’s marginally all my ego, but mostly I just want to disappear.

I swear; If I break a heart I’ll fix it, but I’m a disease and a symptom,

and I stick like bad religion. Worshipers take shelter from this cult.

I’d even stab you if I had proper motivation,

and I didn’t treat myself like my own martyr for nothing.

The “real” me may only be what you make of me anyways.

My image of myself only exists within my head,

and in that image I am rotten with perfection.

My only corduroy is torn and smells of bleach,

but I’m too sleepy to change into my skin.

I swear I’m more than just an ordinary sin,

just because I’m also my own martyr.