You came at me like quicksand and all I could think was after this there wouldn't be a single piece left of me if this ended wrong.

You were supposed to stay away ( no matter how much I wanted you). You were supposed to be strong enough to let me go... Because we both knew I wasn't.

You came back so suddenly I didn't have time to comprehend what was happening. I can't even stay mad at you when I want to!

You are a ******* disease.
You are the reason I'm so dysfunctional.
You are the love of my life
& for that I'll always forgive you even when I shouldn't.

if people were made of glass i would be the expensive vase sitting in your grandma's dining room. the white one with the tiny gold flakes. the one you accidentally knock over when you're thinking of only yourself. the one that now lays in pieces at your feet, too broken to be glued back together.

I dont trust people
as much as i used to
Knowing i'd get stabbed
In the back anyway

And now i dont even trust myself
Because i know i'd stab myself
Through my heart
To numb all these lonely feelings

I wrote a poem about Alzheimer's..


Too bad I forgot it

BOY #1
his eyes were as blue
as the deepest sea
his touch
exciting
his voice
as beautiful as Beethoven's symphony 5
the things he said could make any girl
believe that he loved them
only thing is
he didn't give a ******* ****
about me

BOY #2
his hair was as puffy and soft
as a baby bunny's fur
his words touched me in ways
only hands should be able to
his lips fixed wounds I thought
only doctors can fix
a moment with him was never dull
the stories he told me made
me want him more
"i had to jump the wooden gate
the cops were after me"
I couldn't help but smile
I gave you me
and you gave me you
but did you give yourself
to me like how I gave myself
to you

BOY #3
the height of Mt Rushmore
the style of Skateboarder's new model
your jokes were funny
but the way you treated me
after you got what you wanted wasn't
we laid in your bed and you held my hand
I rested my head on your shoulders
I trusted you
but I wasn't anything important to you

BOY #4
skin
dark as night
innocence
like a child
you were different
I wasn't attracted to you
but you liked me
so I let you give yourself to me
and before I knew it
you told your mama I was "a mistake"
we were the talk of the school

BOY #5
his hair was as puffy and soft
as a baby bunny's fur
his words touched me in ways
only hands should be able to
his lips fixed wounds
I thought only doctors can fix
and by now you would assume I
would've learned already
but this boy like no other
this boy excites me
I cant help but want his attention
****** allure maybe
whatever it is
I need him

(not done)

It is sad to think that I actually wrote poems about you.
I always thought you would end up being the one
you would kiss me when I am blue
and tell me you love me when I see you
and now there is honestly nothing I can do
but cry
and think
maybe I should let you go too

I am flabbergasted, ashamed, and angry after philosophy homework
which straight up flabbergasts myself because I’ve always questioned everything
after reading a selection of Seneca’s letter’s ( ancient spanish philosopher)
Spastic Fury is an understatement
I understand this was written in a different time period
but I have to discuss this **** in class.
**** like why crying is for the weak or
how practicing habits less fortunate
than one is subordinate to
will strengthen thy noble soul for future preparation of fortune/misfortune
blah blah blah
I get all of that **** I understand the validity of living a pure,
un-judgemental, strong willed life.
what I can’t get out of my OCD head
is all of the **** I’ve been through
that was and continues to be detrimental to my sanity
and no it’s not out of vanity you naive ******
it’s called PTSD and it can be debilitating.  
I know this portion of reading is designed for
the average freshman unsoiled mind, free from
trauma and full of promise but I’m not your average person.
I never will be
I remember the times I didn’t want to be a ******* person
and those moments remain anchored right on top of my mangled innocence.  
Seneca claims crying is a form of selfish weakness
I claim crying is stronger than taking a razor to the skin
crying is stronger than puking until you’re dizzy
crying is stronger than getting high until you can’t
remember why you started crying
in the first place
It took me 17 years and disgusting amounts of therapy
to accept my hurricane emotions are not a form of weakness
because everything I feel is a million times more real
than the ******* we hear, see, or talk about
I know tragedy occurs everywhere to anyone
unfortunate enough to be there
but in terms of my salvation
there is an expiration date on
how long I can play in the sand before I’m choking
and gasping “i’m sorry’s” in-between scratchy breaths
I knew college would be hard,
but at least in group therapy
there was actual motivation to speak up

Oh, so I was pretty?
Or is this all because of pity?
I was a strong lady?
You're telling them I was dainty?

Tell them I will be remembered
Tell them you didn't get into my head
Tell everyone we were friends
Tell everyone everything false

Oh, so I was beautiful?
I was one of the people who made you whole?
Sweetie, that's alright
I just died. You don't have to lie.