Sometimes
I wish one of us would die
Just to end this mess
To let my hair grow out
To become someone else
Again

see, i've never been good at letting things die.
my heart has been fractured into all the fragments needed
to carry every single person that has ever laid it to waste,
ever made a home there.
if i just keep holding out hope, everyone will come back around,
right? i don't know how to guard my heart.
not when i never ask for the broken pieces back.
i don't know how to take people out of my life,
not without letting them take a piece of me
with them. what if they come home
one day? what if they don't?

And everything will crumble
In the walls of my mind
In the halls of my inner eye
As we bleed out
Perhaps you'll see
How beautiful you are
Compared to everything

One by one we fade to black
petals falling from a cheap bouquet
we're gone too soon it seems
victims of the black parade
a field of roses a shallow grave

in my mind
           all i really
      wanted
      was mind enough
         to say no...
                  and yet
as i had knelt...
and as i had pleaded..
     all i could ask for
                                    was ignorance
               and all i could say
          was thank you
                          for all the venom---
                   still
           it
                              feels just
              a little bit sad
                                  i couldn't
  ask for more...
                               more drops
                          by
              drops
wishing
  ­                                wanting
                         ­                                              waiting
                   washing down
       falling



       even deeper






       ever faster
    






                                              ­intoxicating
sating myself more and more in this
scrumptouos feast of more and more
                 and with every single mouthful
i take in
                  my appetite begs for more and more
       yes
                           i am a wolf.
           the lowest of the low
                     in a tripartite soul.
and i can't help
                            but fill myself up
     no matter how much
                  i weigh myself down.
                                      i just want more.
                          more of bullets
       for every single word you say
                  more of icicles
              for every single awkward touch
more of daggers
                for every single glare you look me
                 down with
                                   more of poison
       for every single lie you make me swallow
        forcefully down my own throat saying
        that you've always been true
                                                           ­  more of you...
for every single night i waste
away lying wide awake lying
to myself about not regretting
every sound i taught, trained
my tongue to incarcerate until
you were no longer there to listen
                       more of flames.
        the feeling i get whenever you
         quench my burning aching hunger.
                more of flames
that blazing glimmer i become
when everyone looks at all my
scars with disappointment.
                               i want more of flames.
                     and i just want to burn it all down
along with you.
                  and then
                                   i'd happily engulf myself
     engorge myself
                                  on all our
shared
                     pain
                                                         and
                                misery
     knowing that no one will ever
           knowingly share anything else with me...
                                                                let me bask
                     at least one last supper
in the blissful toxin
                                   of our cannibalism
                   and one last time
                       we'll cast a miracle and
     burn
                               in the gluttony
of our lustful intersuffering
                                                  ­drowning drunk
        from the deathly fermentation
                        of our own flowing blood
              knowing
    we'll never again
                          have to wake up
                 with a killer of a hangover tomorrow.

today i listened to music.

not just any music but The music i would call my life
when i was younger.
there i sat,
singing along to songs that made me feel like i'm not underwater again,
sitting here almost 17,
looking out the window thinking "man they were right
when they said your worries now won't matter as much
in a few years".

today i listened to music
and realized i will never be that young, fresh kid
who knew about life at a way too young age.

The boy bellows his sound...screams loud
“come one come all the affair is now”
The words the nurse said ring hollow so dead
“Cancerous sores”
“Carry on carry on”
For he swears he’ll sleep no more
Night terrors are real and if he survives the fabulous killjoys will suffer greatly...to no ones surprise