every word i ever wrote is for you,
every breath i ever took is for you.
you're the version of me that lives on in my head,
kept alive by the lives that i haven't lived.
you're the reason why i'm still here.
i'm afraid,
i'm afraid of the stillness that captures the thoughts
and refuses to give them back.
there you are.
all these years between us, but there you are.
there i am, all alone, cold and terrified
of the day that will come, but i'm still here,
locked up in a room inside my mind.
you're alive, so alive despite everything,
and i owe you a second chance at life.
you're the reason why both of us aren't dead.
every breath i ever took is for you,
every word i ever wrote is for you.

there's something wrong with my head.
minutes turn into days, days turn into nothingness,
fall through me like i'm made of holes,
scars form where grass used to grow.

i'm in the middle of an uninhabited desert,
i'm in a crowd, so dense there's barely room for a breath.
my thoughts follow their own footsteps,
caught in a game of hide-and-seek with myself.

i should've paid more attention to chemistry,
because i think my brain is missing some vital element,
one that would finally show me how to be whole.
but there is something wrong with my head.

Talking abundance
Or
Be abundant?

World of difference!

I was born
with questions in my mouth.
Why do wolves howl?
What do bees dream?
Will I ever be held
the way that the ocean's depths
hold secrets?
*
I pressed my hands
into the cool dirt of every mystery,
removed them to find earth under my nails,
ink on my palms,
and a smile I still cannot explain.

They tried to tell me:
not everything needs to be known.
But how could I keep from exploring
when every whisper of the wind,
every caw of the crows,
every daisy's petal,
tells me there is more.

They tried to tell me:
Pandora's jar is just Eden's apple
wearing a new name -
blooming only sorrow,
but can we really know the light
without the dark?

Hope was the last thing breathing.
She was caught in the looking glass,
unable to speak,
and I thought her reflection
looked an awful lot
like me.

I am still a work on
progress,                                                        ­                      
                                          ­                                                                 ­       
some mistakes but no
regrets                                                          ­              
                                                  ­                                                            
Pushed myself through the
unknown,                                                         ­       
                                                                ­                                                 
 proud of this person &, how I've
  grown                                                         ­     
  I hold my head up, stand up
  straight                                                      ­                      
                                                                ­                                                  
doing my best, no inner debates                                                          ­            
                                                    ­                                                                
No excuses made as I forge ahead                                                      
                                                                ­                                        
Learning & changing everyday                                                         ­                 
                                                                ­                                              
loving myself, I'm on my way

In the quiet hum of a world that rushes,
Where footfalls echo on broken stone,
A voice still sings in the hush of hushes,
A heart still beats, though left alone.

Oh, cruel hands of time and trial,
They twist, they turn, they seek to mold,
Yet something lingers, tender, vital,
A warmth untouched by bitter cold.

The world, in its grumble, its clatter, its din,
Would etch its sorrow upon your skin,
Would carve you sharp, would make you steel,
Would teach you nevermore to feel.

But hush, dear soul, and hold your ground,
Let not the world make you unkind,
For in the hush of love profound,
Softness reigns, yet never blind.

Take pride in light the world denies,
In sugar spun from sorrow’s thread,
In laughter ringing under skies,
That some might call a dream long dead.

Oh, wear your sweetness like the dawn,
Let cynics sneer, let shadows call,
For even when the world moves on,
A heart that loves outlives them all.

I want this to end
please everything just stop!
I'm begging you oh! God
i can't deal with this

I want to cut myself so deep that all i  become is bone
I want to smash my head against the wall
make paintings with my blood
PLEASE STOP!

You tell me that you're concerned
but then why do you ignore me
like a pig on a street
is that what you think of me?

I'm done trying
My legs broken from carrying this pain
my windpipe punctured by the comments you make
My skin crimson form the cuts i create

I get hooked with a therapist
but instead of help ,all they blab is *******
that makes me question to my broken core
Am I going mad?

Can you ******* shut up
all i want is to be alone
all i want to be is held
by someone who loves me unconditionally

you say your love is pure
but is it? you manipulate me
I love you, but do you love me?
You made me question everything

Your ******* homophobic mindset,
its so revolting , I feel ashamed to be your son
You say no matter what happpens you are my son
but the very next second you spill your guts

I'm sorry i disappoint you constantly
I'm sorry, I bleed
I'm sorry, I'm weak
I'm sorry, would you ever forgive me?

Deep in the middle
of the Irish midlands,
my essence is all over.

You’d put one foot inside
and say I haven’t changed—
hoarding sentimental knick-knacks,
all valueless, all lovely,
all me.

You’d put one foot inside,
it’s ***** and it’s warm,
all irrelevant, all lonely,
all me.

On a cold November evening, she met herself
Her reflection was shivering; confident,
Her lips cold; her smile warm
On a cold November evening, she saw herself

Her eyes sparkled with humor in time with the gentle dance of the snow,
Each snowflake a waltz reflecting her mood
And she asked herself, how did you get here, me?
How did you escape your cage?

And she answered, oh darling, I never did.
The cage simply outgrew me, and the iron bars scraped my arms
I hurt myself no longer, but I still hurt
And yet it was all worth it, to see that look in your eyes

On a cold November evening, she walked away
Those iron bars so far from her hopeful face -
A cage so big she didn’t understand how she could ever leave
And yet the phantom pain on her arms was a promise
That this wasn’t forever.