May my heart stay humble,
May it never crumble.
May it always be sincere,
May my heart stay here.

hey, everything will be alright.
don’t need to smoke secretly anymore
no need to cry in the bathtub,
and try to drown yourself everytime.
you will be happier, believe me.
noone will look at you differently,
they accept you now,
no need to cry after school anymore.
little one, no need to cut your hair off
believing that it will bring you luck.
you don’t need those sleeping meds
soon enough your insomnia will flee.
no more vomiting after every meal,
you will accept your body eitherway,
and you will love it more each day.
be strong, past me.
your depression won’t go away, im sorry.
there are no more summer rains
that you could dance in.
i still like sky ferreira, i swear.
you will bring peace to yourself,
with your big heart and tough soul.
no need to bleed for every little mistakes.
i promise you, right now, i am better.
little one, look at me.
you only have future you as a role model.
for you, i changed
please, no more sadness, no more blood
i swear, it gets better.

I thirst with
an ache for
something I
cannot name

So in death I shall
quench my thirst

so, my poems are in no way actually good. I know that. But, if you have any interest in brutally honest metaphors, please follow me or just like something or leave a comment. They make me happy so please just leave something to let me know that I should even keep writing. Just leave a smile in the comments on a poem or on a poem you even remotely tolerated. That would help me I think. So, you by no means have to, you can just ignore this if you want to. But it would mean so much to me. Also, if you have any advise I'm always open to notes.

to the old crinkled paper,

i wish i could pour out
all of the bottled up feelings,
my messed up emotions and
my sinful thoughts to you ;

love,
the bleeding pen

My notes aren't poetry anymore
They don't have the right dates

but they're special
because i wrote them

I wish to stretch out eternity into a more tender, finite time.

If I am not made to do tremendous things, then let my greatest act be that of placing a bench at the very top of New Brighton hill, where the setting sun will spill over me until it grows shy, then do so again the next day.

When I am put beside my heroes, I wish not to be compared to them on the grounds of substance, but instead, the frequency of essence.

The distinction, simple and succinct enough.

As I peruse past words of great design, I feel as though I am writing them again, and what a feeling that is! To be imbued with the power felt ages ago, and to be made less sterile by it. That is how I will step forward in older age, and older age upon that, until oblivion.