Don't go across the world for me
Because I will only find a way to make you leave
Even though my sadness is too hidden to see
I promise you, some nights I find it hard to breathe

Don't set yourself, on fire to make me smile
Because after a while, I will decide it's too hard loving someone who gives me what I desire
And I will only want you to go the extra mile
Though it's shocking to me that someone could love a person so dire.

Don't blame yourself, because I can never trust again
Because I run away from anyone who sees through this grin
And all I think about in this brain
Is that you didn't feel like loving an entity as vile as me was a sin.

He says he's getting feelings,
and I'm oblivious to what he means
even as my skin prickles and itches,
like there are flies crawling over it
and leaving their grubby, microscopic footprints behind.

He gets nasty about it,
and then I get it. Funny, that:
I only ever understand things
once demonstrated with aggression,
violence.
Or maybe not so funny at all.

And it's funny, because I just
don't believe him, and yet I do
at the same time.
He's a player and a cheat, but
he has a heart as he tells his side of the stories,
and I kiss his frown away.

Funnier still: they all have words to say about
him―the player, the cheat, the *******, the guys that
leads their friends on-
they talk about him
as if he dangles bait from the end of a string
in front of starving mice
so he can snap them up in his jaws and
swallow them whole,
only to spit them out later,
mangled and broken.

Perhaps a little like him.

I think they forget he has feelings too.

Even funnier still that
I feel like I'll be the one that breaks his heart
because I'm all well and good for liking him,
but my heart belongs to another,
and my friends, they like me, think me better
than the way I advertise myself;

I know they're wrong, because I know myself.
Always without intention, though often
without remorse, too,
I break the people closest to me,
snap them like twigs,
chew them up like defenseless mice
between my gnashing teeth,
and spew them up later
with the bile-burn of self-loathing,
mangled and broken.

Perhaps a little like me.

I think I forget I have feelings too.

fantasize about the veins in your wrist popping
like his eyes did when you said the words
"i love you."

grow uncomfortable with the lasting silence
within yourself
an itch that you can't scratch.
a self that you can't love.

know that though it may be temporary
you feel like glass has settled in your lungs
a metallic edge to the blood in your heart.

Waiting my turn in
----------------------------- line
for the golden star
from Self-Gratification.

Now to find the shortest aisle.

3 AM, I roll onto the floor;

No use trying to sleep anymore.

Anxiety shakes me to the core;

I walk to the bathroom, I lock the door.



The raven pecks at the window, so I let it in;

It tells me there's no escape from my sin.

It says that I've failed, and I'll fail again,

It says it never lasts when I try to repent...



I humor the raven, I listen to its lore;

I begin to think it's right, as my head grows sore.        

Will I ever different from who I was before?

Quoth the raven: "Nevermore".



Once upon a midnight dreary,

A midnight I have dreaded dearly,

I crawl to the sink, and I can't help fearing

The raven's words I hated hearing.



"I'm sorry!" I cry, "I want to do better!"

But how many times have I written those letters?

How can I ever pay? I'm the hopeless debtor;

And I can't always hide in the fabric of my sweater.



The raven tells me I'm a figurative *****;

I'm huddled in the cabinet, writing metaphors.

Will I ever have a mind free of blood and gore?

Quoth the raven: "Nevermore".



Why won't you leave me alone, you Godforsaken bird!?

To hell with you, and your pessimistic words!

I'm sick of being beaten, broken down, and disturbed;

You might be right, but you might be absurd.



I will try to change once more, as the night gives up its reign;

For a short while, I will return to being sane.

But the night will come again, as the sun can not remain,

And with it comes the raven, waiting at my window pane.



Why me!? Why me!? What does it bother me for?

I tried to do what's right! I can't take this anymore!

Will it ever stop peck, peck, pecking at my door!?

*Quoth the raven: "Nevermore".

lackluster, with a sad smile
i wade into the deep ocean of self hatred
with my head anchored to my spine
in only the most casual of ways
lips curved into a hint of what could've been
a smile

as the water reaches my throat
i swear i could hear the click of her patent stilletos
against the sides of my ribs
as i try and recall
the way your calloused hands
brushed against my shoulder
released all of the world's winds
into the small of my back

i can't help but laugh
at the way mirrors seem to destroy me from the inside out
my brown eyes seem to condescend
at what i fail become
as i watch you fall in love
with all that she is
and all that i can never be

i drown.

i watch her lips move as she speaks
the symmetry of her face
stained glass eyes with cheeks of rose
a complexion as flawless as a fresh spring day
my heart is broken with every word she speaks.
for i feel my imperfections resounding more clearly in her beautiful frame
than i ever could in a mirror.
legs longer than any lie of self-love that i could ever spin
her waist narrow, molded into galaxies that boys will dream of grasping.


if she is spring, than i am the middle of february.
my skin is clear the way that the sky is green
my figure an ominous cloud of a long winter
lackluster, abrasive
daring those who look upon it to find themselves immediately disinterested

for i hold no fear for the oblivion of darkness
would march into the depths of the sea without glancing back
pretty girls are my sole fear
for i know that by the end of the day
you will look to her and, much like myself, not find a single flaw in her effortless effervescence,
and i will go by without so much as a passing glance.

Please hold me,
Tell me everything
Is going to
Be okay,
As I sob
Into your chest.
Hold me tight,
But not too tight,
For I am fragile
And pieces of me
Are already missing...
I don't think I can
Afford to lose anymore.
Is that too much to ask?
I'm sorry.