I look at the mirror
Completely disgusted
My face is too clear
It should be busted

So I punch my cheeks
And yank out my hair
One of my many self-harm streaks
Should I even dare?

A pair of scissors
Right below my fingers
Should I pick it up
And if I do, where should I cut?
I look around my body
And find my arms empty
Of much needed punishment
So I attempt to cut my flesh

But I couldn't bring myself
To break through my skin
So I put the scissors back in
And cried again
Begging for some kind of help
But I never got it
And I never will

The expanse of sand in the desert
Like mortar between bricks
Except the bricks are the people
Desolate but vital
The evolution of understanding
But for a man whose life changed without warning
It is the distance between meaning
And existence that is now most clear to him
Within every grain of sand is a reminder
Of a happier time
When sleep was meant for rejuvenation
And not for despairing
When a new day was for happiness
And not desperation
There is no turning back as every direction is now the same
The crossing is only about movement
For lessons have already been learned
It is now a time for steel to be bent
For our nature is always the same
And if we must live with it then we must suffer because of it
But would you wait to feel the peace you have now
Would you wait until it is gone
For the relief you would feel is upon you
It is inside you
Now
Enough to dance upon the roof of a car
Or quietly read with your child
Sweet relief
Sweet blessings
Unless you must cross the expanse to find it again
And while you remember that you once had it
It will not be until you walk on glass
Glass that does not cut but instead marks time
From here to there
Sand that becomes a liquid
Liquid that becomes glass
Glass that reflects the past
And reveals the future
And upon it you must walk
And through it you must pass
Until the time comes that your nature has changed
And your own forgiveness has been accepted
By you

Does he take care of you?
Does he ever make you feel like you want to go home?
Does he undress you on the page?
Does he undress you in the black of an empty room?
Does his kiss make you overdose at night?
Does he make you feel high even when you're dying to be sober again?
When he puts his fingers to your lips, does it make want more of him before he goes?
Does the need for his lips make you put out the cig that's always been bad for your health?
Does he make you feel full even aftter your parents split and you've felt empty since?
Does he make you feel like you can talk about you parents?
Does he calm your neurosis, even when you can't stop organizing your house and degrading your own body?
Does he talk about each part of your body as if each piece is their own Frida painting?
Does he say how beautiful your mocha colored birth mark on the lower part of your neck is?
Does he know how much you hate your mocha colored birth mark on the lower part of your neck?
Does he know how much you can't stand being up before 2 pm on at day of the week?
Does he know how much you wanted to **** yourself in 2012?
Does he know that was the year your parents started resenting each other and you blamed it on your never being home?

Does he know about me?
Does he know about how much I call you at 3 am?
Does he know I still love you?
Does he know you used to love me?
Does he know I know everything about you?
Does he know I know nothing about you?

I know nothing about you.

Oh my fair mistakes
of the choices that we take
How can I live with the thought of knowing
Where it is we are going

Time be ever so sweet
While I feel the earth benath my feet
I lie in wait for this day to come
My mouth used to drown my burdens with ***

My choice, my mistake
With every breath I take
Who am i to judge
While I feed my face with fudge

I look at myself in the mirror
Hoping to see things clearer
But will I get that answer at last
My choices and mistakes will go by fast

Hurry now or you will be too late
To change this dreaded but unending fate
There will be no secrets to keep
For there you ended up six feet deep.

Pleasing primordial instincts: to blame
Odious constructed mores, or simply
Raptures dwelling within?
Numbing sensations cry out to
Omnipresent nicotine screens;
Gargoyles perch on the ridges
Retching earthly filth and heavenly blessings
Across my fragile conscience.
Paradox in the words I speak,
Harboring images I dare not peek; perpetually ashamed by
Yearnings to please the body and punish the mind.

Wipe me clean of bitterness:
left over is a bland weak limp
thing who cannot stand
out in a meal, gets
eaten for lunch
no consequences for the
stomach that restrains me

My Foe cluttered down the pit
He painstakingly dug for me
         To pitch down
            Head first
                *
             *
                 *
             *
             V
             V