you connected the freckles on my arms
with your calligraphy pen
like they were constellations
and i was the night sky

your hand held my arms still as you inked them
and i stopped breathing and started breathing faster at the same time
my mind couldn't remind my head not to fall in love
and my heart was beating in my arms
right under your hand
right under your pen

but the illusion shatters when you say,
don't worry, i torment gwen like this all the time

and i wish it didn't
because ap government is dismal
there's too much reality in there
and i just want to be wrapped up in the idea of you

but that's not fair
so i just stare at the constellations you made of me
and wish they meant something
as i try to stop getting so dizzy around you

i tell myself it works

most cut
others pop pills
a few choke out
but I...
I write

this is my way of handling it

My tears have long dried
my emotions were fried
I just wanted to hide
you shouldn't have lied
it's been months since I cried
three  years since you died
I was never your **bride

simply put: i feel like people hate me.
it's this paranoia that i can't talk about with people because they won't understand.
they won't understand the way my lungs feel like they're on fire, and the way that my throat feels tight as though a noose is wrapped around it. they won't understand the way i try to stay as quiet as possible, try not to make a peep. try not to cough, try not to sigh, not a peep.
i am good at keeping quiet even though i am full of words. i don't speak because nobody cares enough to listen anyway. i wouldn't want to waste anyone else's time.
simply put: i wish i was happy.
simply put: i don't want to be the failure kid anymore.
simply put: please help me.

the Bible says that hell is like a fiery oven.
i believe that the Bible is wrong.

hell is forgetting every single good moment you've ever had in your life and replacing it with every bad one.
hell is never having a feeling for something at all. you can't see color. you can't smell. you can't feel. you lose touch with the things you once cherished.

hell is watching the people you love suffer.
hell is being able to do absolutely nothing about it.

hell is feeling tired all the time, hell is looking at the bags under your eyes and saying, "today. today is the day i will sleep" and it never happening.

hell is anxiety. hell is the shaking of your hands, the bouncing of your leg, the biting of your lip until you can taste the twang of metal in your mouth.

hell is never being able to appease anyone. hell is never being able to appease yourself. hell is being known as the disappointment, the mistake, the never should have happened.

hell is the depression. the white of the mental hospital walls. the barred windows. the tears down your mother's face. hell is writing sorry on the suicide note that led you there in the first place.

hell is just not a fiery oven, hell is now, tomorrow, and every day after.

Hello Weakling
You are nothing
I won't discriminate
I'm not fussy
Anyone will do
I will ravage your senses
And destroy your mind
Bit by painful bit
I laugh in the face of your loved ones
Mock your feeble attempts to evict me
I will fool you
I sleep dormant
Then - I am reborn
This time with more stamina
I pick up the pace
I will take you down before I disappear

What are you going to do about it ?