i feel pain for my soul,
you were always my dream
i dreamt of gold. the beauty and simplicity that would be our relationship
because we. we were meant to be.
i dreamt of autumn, harvesting one anothers minds, bodies, souls.
because, as i said. we were meant to be.
i still believed this even when he insulted me, and told me i was just a girl.
i still believed this when he ridiculed my passions and laughed at the art in the middle of the MET.
and later that night, forcing shots of alcohol down my throat until i blacked out in the bathroom, i still believed this.
he even told me not to. but i was blind, and maybe, just maybe the hurt was comforting.
i believed it even when he did not ask me to do it.
but when he grasped me i was gone
for i was neither happy nor sad
when he was doing this i felt numb
my spirit hovering in thin air
he would be the nightmare i had for the rest of my life.
and then i realized. it all seemed too much.
you were too scary.
monsters, answering with his breath.
my dream had transformed into my nightmare.
i loved you.
but i couldn't afford to stay.

I hate how old people look when they drink water
I hate when a girl with Irish skin makes my chest hurt because she’s not mine
And I hate not knowing how I feel

I hate how pretentious all my ******* writing is

So here’s something honest
About loving your lips
And the way your head fits on my chest
And loving to kiss your wrists
But still not loving you

I ******* hate how much I love the Smiths
And how I can’t tell the difference between drugs and mental illness
And how scattered my brain is
But she’s still so stuck in all the pieces

I hate the back of your car
And the way it makes me vulnerable

And I hate when my mom cries because she’s watching something she created die
And she can’t help save him

And I hate when babies are boiled in blood
But I’d hate not giving woman a choice with their body

And I hate God for not being real but making more rules than politicians who just manipulate money and religion

And I hate to complain, but I do it anyway

i swear to you i really do try but on most days I really just don't know how to handle myself.

i mean just the other night i was trying to fall asleep but i kept worrying about the hundred billion ways i could die and then when i finally fell asleep, i woke up the next morning contemplating enacting on one of those hundred billion ways.

my brain is filled with a tempest that i try so very hard to get rid of but even when the storm is gone the destruction it caused is still there. my bones have gotten used to the shaking and my head has gotten used to feeling like a lead bowling ball. i can't tell from reality or daydream and when i learn it's not a dream it sickens me to a point where i decide to live in a different reality for a while.

i once heard that reality is based on perception. once a reality is created, it cannot be changed, only your perception of it can change. well i hope to god that the realities i've created can be destroyed as well because i don't want to live in this one.  

-m. j. g.

our sick minds, they get no sympathy.
you can get caught in the civil war
your mind wages against itself and
emerge victorious night after night,
who cares, no one's looking,
you're not supposed to show off.
but cry for three days straight
and everybody loses their ****.
i don't want to have this sick mind,
i didn't ask for this sick life,
i'd rather take it all and sell it
to the devil.

My bones will ache
When I awake from my deep slumber
Slow heavy breaths leave my lungs
I wish each one were my last

I plead to God
{if there is a God}
That he will take me
That I might die before tomorrow

Reflecting upon my life
Looking at how worthless
Meaningless I truly am
I abandon all hope to surviving

I use to know what it was like to have a soul
And to look forward to life with purpose
Now all I feel is a hollow chest and no hop