you told me once I was bright
insisted on it as I tried to tell you I wasn't, tried to show you
You said you'd hear none of it
I mistook your wish to not listen as a promise you saw, saw me
I know now, you never did
you were holding a candle, mistaking its glow for my own as its heat warped my reflection
the orange haze altered the way my skin looked, made the shadows retreat out of sight

I had to think back hard
trying to remember when you began to alter reality’s way for your comfort
I think it was from the start
You brought the candle with you from day one
I see you carry it everywhere, erasing your own darkness with it even now
It makes sense, I saw the glow on your skin
i believed your praise so wholeheartedly
i assumed it was my own shine bouncing onto you
just as you said, insisted
with time of course, your eyes adjusted to the light so much so you could see me
the shadows zoning back in, everything too clear for your liking

and so naturally you moved the candle closer and closer and closer
Hoping its heat would keep changing and morphing that which you hate
would soften me, melt away the harsh edges I had spent years sharpening,
strip me down into something smooth, something pliable, someone you could claim to love
and each time it had less and less effect

It didn't hurt for a while if i’m honest,
sure, sometimes the heat made me sweat,
but I just assumed it was that warmth people talk about when they talk about love
there was not one butterfly in my stomach, just smoke in my lungs from where you were burning me,
lit me on fire in hopes whatever charred remains fit your fantasy
You expected me to be a Phoenix, raising pure from the ashes for your entertainment
as if that didn't mean I had to die first

And you know, it all makes it so much more hurtful to remember
when you walked away from the fire you started
sunglasses on claiming it was too bright for you
you took your stupid candle with you
always wanting to search for what you’re missing in someone else's flames

Here's what you don't know
In trying to light me up, you only managed to cast an even darker and bigger shadow,
behind my back where nobody sees, but I feel it's cold constantly
It almost makes me wish for the burn of the candle
tell me, is that not the cruelest part?

I think I love you
More in my mind
Than I do
In real life .

The way you smile,
I don't know why,
But I romanticize you.
In my mind your perfectly mine.

I have a story,
A perfect script for you to follow.
Like a romcom I wrote
But that's not real.

I not a realistic person.
I want perfection.
Your not perfect.
Neither am i.

As the early morning sun is peeking
behind the mountains in my backyard,
I begin to romanticize a day where I do not doubt,
a day where I do not indulge in self-sabotage,
a day where I believe I am capable of achieving my childhood dream.

She told him
That she had a timer
That her story would be short lived
"I don't have enough pages for you to read"
He said that was fine
Some of the best stories are always short lived and end in cliffhangers
A signed contract
Two agreements
Willing participants
It's been fifty six days
He's watched the ink
Encircling her wrists
Oxidizing
Black flaking off
Skin growing more sallow
Edges looking as if they've curled in
Brittle
Brown with age
She told him
He wouldn't have enough pages to read
Less is more
He silently thought
The book closes

You can have everything you've ever wanted and still want to end your own life.
That is not beautiful.
How do you build a life for yourself when all you've ever known is darkness?
How do you make yourself happy when it's so comforting being sad?
That is not beautiful.
You decide when you're fifteen years old that it doesn't matter if you succeed in school because you wont live until you're eighteen.
You based your entire adult life on the chance that one day you are going to succeed at killing yourself.
That is going to be the one thing you're successful at.
That is not beautiful.
Having to explain why there are deep scars on your body is not beautiful.
Having the people you love and care about visit you in the hospital and seeing the sad and tired looks on their face is not beautiful.
It's sad, and it's awful, and it's exhausting.
It hurts. It ******* hurts.

romanticize our problems
until they are colored in pink and purple hues
baby blue mornings filled with you
fantasize our perfect life together
what if reality is the fake
coffee, music, and solitude can be found
any Saturday safely in your arms
awoken by kisses soft and gentle
until clothes end up getting lost somewhere
dancing around the living room
in our pajamas, without masks on
I wish this was still true
but this is not reality, this is not truth
this is me romanticizing past loving
like dreaming of Paris in the rain

"You're really good at poetry!"

*"ha, I'm good at romanticizing toxic situations"

Born into this world,
Tears at the end, tears at the start

Never going back,
My story becomes a piece of art.

Unprepared and free-handed,
Keep the paint flowing.

Cover up any mistakes,
Who knows where this story is going?

Do I love? Do I lose?
Do I laugh at the pain?

Do I bite? Do I bruise?
What does my heart gain?

How will you decorate it?
Choke a bit on glitter.

Have you ever tasted paint?
*It tastes bitter.

Hide the scars
draw a heart
on your arm
take a picture
add a filter
kiss her scars
"stay strong, love"

Only discuss what your feeling,
never share the real meaning
maybe someone will like you if you have bigger problems
joking with yourself when they barely even hit the quantum
Must've wanted to see what was so attractive
Picked up a blade then blamed me after
words are painful
piercingly baneful
Dug a deeper hole so you can bury me, just haphazards,

So immune to what your saying
you lied to me
so focused on what you're really hating
wanted to get into a fight
so you poisoned me at night.
think you're so poetic?
stop it.

It's pretty hard to stay clean
Looking in the mirror is so much harder than it seems
hard to keep on trucking
when your so bloodsucking
your actions are the kind that pull the noose up the tree
I wish it had all been fake
you put your heart out on a plate
for everyone to sample
if only they knew how you're never organically explaining
serving things the people should be disdaining

You have no idea
romanticizing for whoever's listening
when they say your so **** talented, your face must be glistening
You don't understand me
and this life you've created for yourself
writing about a life you know nothing about
how many times do I need to say it to get it in your head
You'll never understand the feeling of waking up
and wishing
you were
dead.

Hide the scars
rip the heart
on my sleeve
take your picture
add that filter
hope you're happy
"stay strong, dear"

I've never been one for romance
For so long that's been my stance
With attempts to avoid what caught my eye
Which we both find now to be a lie

I've shared with you my favourite place
Where we can both come when we need space
I now prefer it everlastingly more
Even the comforting silence cannot bore

Spontaneous moments call for plans
While I hope this won't get out of my hands
Since I crave to know I'm in control
Your "Forever" isn't quite my goal