You still bring me flowers
Only to see them die
By all the smashed vases you bring along
You keep coming into my life with something new to break
for you to remain soft
for the world to stop
when did it become
a synonym for foolish
for you to stop
in skin so tough
But first, I wish
we did not have
a reason to toughen up.
Can we have a World Kindness Day everyday?
What is contained in those years prefacing our story?
Memory is a fickle thing-
Pieces of mine have been left in storm drains and deep closets
Give me what you can-
the frayed shoelaces from fifth grade and clip on ties from homecoming dances
We can trade these like baseball cards-
the patch of woods behind my childhood home for when you learned how to ride a bike
Could you spare the day your father left?
You can have the time I realized silence is tangible when you want company- it rests heavy on your chest as you sit alone at the table .
I take what we've traded and tuck it between my floorboards, in the panels of my walls, in my window frame
What was contained in those years before us is safe in my woodwork as you gift it to me
And the years to come will hold pieces of me
i think about it every time i get into a car. every **** time. it used to be, how fast can i go? can i time the drop to the ascent?
can i **** myself
can i **** myself
can i **** myself?
i was eleven when i first realized i wanted to die. i was in a hot crowded car with three uncles who i didn’t know, one who caught me changing and stayed a lot longer than he should have. and the air was like breathing hot sand, and i thought i could just open the door and fling myself out into traffic. maybe i'd turn into a bird and fly free on the wind. when i think about cars i see all the ways i could die. i tremble every time i have to get into a car with my father because i know if he pushes me hard enough i’ll unlock the door and end it.
as i was walking to my room on the night of my first suicide attempt, i told my dad i would never see him again. his eyes flicked up from the book he was reading, and murmured out a simple "nice".
trigger (verb): (especially of something read, seen, or heard) distress (someone), typically as a result of arousing feelings or memories associated with a particular traumatic experience.
How am I? I'm good thank you!
Actually terrified you'll find out I'm not okay.
I don't want to explain.
Yes! I'm sure! I'm just a little tired
I'm tired of my life, and of myself,
So technically I'm not lying here.
I can't choke out these words,
I'm not the one who normally does this.
I don't know what I need help with
I do-I have many problems,
I just can't bare talking to anyone about them.
I can't really explain
Actually this is truthful-I can't explain myself
I don't know how
*I need help, but I don't know how to ask. I need advice, but I don't know how to get it. If I came to someone for help, that means major trust was set in place. I need someone there watching me, so I don't slip, but those people can't slip because of me. I keep myself closed off, pushed away for a reason. I am the one who holds people together, that's who I am. Myself comes later. I need help, I really do. But, so do you.
My head is aching as I hear you screaming.
My innocent brain is now full of dirt.
My ear is tired of hearing every swears you've said
My throat is aching every time I try to stop the tear
My heart is always in pain
My soul is full of hatred.
What if I died tomorrow?
Maybe the pain will go away....
wish you'd wrap your arms around me,
or offer your chest or lap for me to rest my head upon -
but I can only sleep if you're here.
Hmm, would love to have her in arms right now :'(
-just being honest
I said I don't wanna write about love anymore
I want to write about anything that makes me happy without that "romantic love"
I want to write about life
I want to write about myself
I want to write about these streets,
But you're the only thing that's in my mind.
I ended up writing about you
I had this story in my head
I had this story on my heart
Where you were with me
Even when it all fell apart
I couldn't picture you with anyone else
But Satan is sweet
Giving me memories that never happened
Like the remains of your kiss on my cheek
I told myself I didn't care anymore
Oh a long time ago
But whether this is real
Or a joke
I'm not laughing
I can't get you out of my head
See I had this image
Where we ruled the world
We were just, brave, and true
You were compassionate too
We raised the heirs to the throne
To be as such
One time I had a nightmare
The kind where you wake in a cold sweat
You were asking people to help however they could
You were getting married
To the loveliest of girls
You wouldn't look me in the eye
Not even when I cried
I woke to tears and shaking hands
I prayed that it would never happen again
I tell myself that all I want is your happiness
But then I turn and think that I'm the only one who will make you so content
I want to only think of you when I see you
But I can't get you out of my **** head
I want to sleep
I'm tired but now that I've opened these floodgates I don't know if I'll shut my eyes until dawn
I have pains in my stomach
I feel knives in my ribs
I want you to love me
But you can't if you never did
Take these thoughts from my head
Give them to her
She's done something to deserve them
She's not just a convenience
Like a mat on which mud is scraped from boots
She's in the right place at the right time to love you and to have you love her too
So now again I feel empty
When I told myself I never should
I feel like I've been used
Though you never touched me like the other boys would
My thoughts are muddled
Like the feelings in my chest
As I lay trying to sleep
One day may I find rest
Now I'll stop rhyming like an idiot
Climb out of the valley in my heart
Find a boy one day
Who has the guts to tell me whether or not he loved me from the start
2:16:15 10:46 PM