i could make lines somewhere else

but i'm too persistent

and a little too proud

so i'll just type a little harder

You think you’re smarter than everyone else
But you’re not
Nice try though
It was a cute thought

You say anything I can do you can do better
Maybe that’s true right now
But I’ll show you
When I return better than ever

What I will take
And what I will show you
Is not to underestimate me,
You’ll get the clue

When I’ll be on top of my game
And working so hard
You’ll be dizzy thinking about
How I came this far

Watch me
Watch me
Watch me
You’ll see
I’m not doing this for you
I’m doing it for me

i did lines
not just of poetry
it’s the thing that binds
me to myself

“recovery”
is too romanticized,
it’s not taking a bite,
or skipping a smoke,
it’s relapse and tears,
runs for weeks or running for weeks,
thoughts constantly stirring,
never fully recovered,
never really alone,

Sick girl, the doctors said they saved you
but are you really alive?
Your hair is still falling out of your scalp.
There are still scars on your tender skin.
Your mom still cries when she sees you.
Your dad looks at you with worried eyes.
Is that concern just a disguise?
What can you do make it alright?
If open wounds don’t bleed,
and match stick burns don’t sting.
Don’t you think it’s getting old?
How you can save a body, but you can’t save a soul?

My addiction likes to play games with me

I try to hide, but it seeks me

On every occasion, or party

I want to just stay home-

***** it out with a pillow

Till it stops breathing

As I watch too much TV,

Count the drinks on the screen

Like counting sheep

3 pints of *****

2 beers

1 shot of whiskey

I feel myself changing

Between shifts, with no breaks in between

Some work overtime, I hear my addiction breathing-

3 PINTS OF *****

2 BEERS

1 SHOT OF WHISKEY

I would tell you all about it

But it’s a long story,

All guts and no glory

I can only talk about it when I’m drunk

On too early of a morning

Or when my eyes are stuck

On a ceiling fan, when I spin with the room

Words are fluid- like, they used to be

Now my lips are a broken cocoon

The words die behind a prison of teeth

Just old ideas, dead memories

That no one needs to hear or see

Sorry I won’t be seeing you at any parties

Sorry I won’t spill my guts for free

Or wait for you to wave to me

Hit me with the “how are you doing?”
    
Its not that I want to hide from you,

But my anxiety is looking for bullet wounds

Addiction hides in the skin

Of the people across the room

They have been shooting looks at me,

Every eye blinking my direction is lightning

Its striking me; how frightening

How fragile I can be, I’m sorry

Maybe that’s why

I plug myself into a wall

I stitch my mouth shut

And scream through the keyboard

Because I don’t want you to stop reading,

Or stop listening,

Just because

You don’t see me

At parties