You said
That I can tell you anything
You said
That you are always there for me
Well it doesn’t seem like that

The other day
I told you a tiny snippet
Only a little drop in the sea
About my anxieties
About my irrational fears
I wanted to tell you for so long

But I am never going to do it again
Because the face you made when I voiced my feelings
That hurt

Your expression said that I don’t make sense
That I am crazy
That that’s totally ridiculous
That I am making it up

I mean, I can tell you the basic stuff
The everyday problems
But not about my mind
Not about my real reasons to cry
You said you want to hear
But you actually don’t

You know
it would be fine
If I had anyone else
to talk to
But you are aware that I don’t
And you make me think
that no one will ever want to listen.

I was birthed into darkness
An aura inside isn't right

I was constructed from darkness
A broken down youth resurrected as a hopeless adult

I am surrounded by my darkness
A spotlight that is a black hole

I join others
Laugh, connect, smiles all around
I have to distance myself
I hide, I cry, I am rude and ungrateful

I have also felt the need to leave
Flying, soaring, far

They clip my wings
Judge, condemn, shame me for 'not putting myself out there'
I'm trying my hardest

To be happy, to enjoy, to find a purpose
the hate drives me back to my place

I cannot leave and I only see darkness on my horizon

I hurt with the pleasure of carving knives
plunged into blood-lusting hands.
Standing in the storm of stab wounds
and searching for Gods dressed in human
to give me mental medicine
for wounds that they must trust me to see.
I am the glass-tongued mediator.
I am the vortex that turns worlds to ink-soaked scenery
and words to black noise.
They gurgle out blandishments like they're true! And to them,
I'm a glass door to better days;
they put their famished hands
onto my handle and tug for good luck.
I open and warble out what they want to hear;
a fortune teller who cries courtesies and fills her glass ball
with a concoction of
tears and liquid caution.
I don't want to lose them.
But I choke on their
distorted, glazed looks,
I stuff my throat with gauze,
my chest fills with blood
as they throw their clocks into the garbage
and raise me on glass pedestals
and drool praises as I cry for me
and for them and
for us
and for-
Useless. I am useless.
Wasteful. I am wasteful.
Broken. I am and should be broken.
Did anyone ever realize? How would they
when I am so selfishly unselfish?

Tighten chest.
Stupid fest.
Hated feast.

Shaking hand.
Can't breathe.
Heart hurting.
Continuous gasping for air.

" I am so stupid. What did I do?"
"What am I doing!?"
"You foolish hag what are you doing?"
I am hardly free from this anxiety.
Free me...

I can't write this with words softened.
You're up and down,
In a  Myriad of ways.
You see my heart, its doors opened.
You know me too well.
It's killing me, just a bit.
I wonder if you're what they cautioned.
Difficult to handle,
But you give me such a buzz.
You have too many pieces, horizons broadened,
But still, I still come along with you.
In a myriad of ways.

windows in train cars
full of grime and stray fingerprints
we exchange glances
via our reflections
distorted through glass
and our own warped perceptions
of those around us

no words are spoken
the silence revered

we exist in bubbles;
no, not bubbles
we are trees
we whisper quietly
words of no meaning
and we reach so silently
for each other
but cannot move

You’ve made your way to the party.
Your heavy limbs were sending you signals of something else—
every step towards the door sounded like two velcro strips detaching.
You persist anyway.
The welcome shots of ***** tasted more like a welcome to leave,
and the kisses you receive by your friends on the cheek felt almost strange—
but it also reeked of nothingness.

Home was a recurring thought
but home was also four walls that make you feel disposable,
claustrophobic, and home shouldn’t even be called home
when your demons take up most of the residence
only to kick you out;
and if you are lucky they don’t follow you out
when you should be happy and with company
but today was not that day.

Home was lonely.
But people for peers
and peers for bulldozers were too much for you.

So you tiptoe your way out;
slithering out of your second skin — dead and unwanted —
flipped switch, getaway car, calculated answers to future interrogations.
But every car is a getaway car
when you’re always trying to get away.
And every getaway is useless when you end up in the same place—
where the quiet is too deafening
and the noise is loud enough
to turn glasses into shards and smithereens
you sometimes daydream about
behind bathroom cubicle doors
where you could’ve sworn you would’ve had your final getaway.

And when you get there,
they’ll tell everyone they should’ve been there.
They’ll tell everyone they should’ve believed you.
They’ll tell everyone they shouldn’t have made that joke about you.
They’ll tell everyone they should’ve done something.
They’ll tell everyone they should’ve,
when they could’ve,
but they didn’t.

And maybe that was why it reeked of nothingness.

- mgv

2 a.m. and I don't  understand
can I help you go to sleep?
can I show you how to dream?
your body's full of thoughts but I'll fill your thoughts with me

just tell me something like you've known me forever
because I've never been good at the getting to know you part

tell me something that'll make me remember
because I just can't seem to forget

tell me something that'll make you feel better
because I've never been good at showing I'm there

tell me something like you know it all
because I really believe that you do

talk to me like you waited all day
touch me like you care
hug me like you need some relief
I'll hold you 'til you're calm

you can run through the field 'til your legs fall off
and I'll be your scream into a pillow

you can be the lost kid, hidden in the darkness
and I'll be the darkness that took you

fix me like I'm the drink to soothe you
that way you'll take me in

see I'm pretty broken
and yeah I broke you too
but if we can glue our halves together
the light might just show through

now, sleep
please
show me the way to dream