I refuse to be the puppet
That you dangle on the string,
I refuse to be the person
You always count on for things.

I refuse to have everything
Dumped on me,
I refuse to always be the one
Begging on her knees.

I refuse to be lied to,
Purposefully ignored;
I refuse to be the one
Who is left out in the storm.

I refuse to be left out as refuse;
Worthless, forgotten trash
That you threw out your window,
Scattering my soul to ash.

You take it all out me,
want more than I could be.
What’s the difference between friend and foe?
How thick’s the line and how far does it go?
Handcuff me to my sins, they’re attached anyway,
I see the smirks and grins, can’t hold them off at bay.
The skies are grey, and that’s how they’ll stay,
until the next break of day.

One day I should sever the ties
if I wake up, suddenly clever and wise.
To hell with history,
I’ve got it all memorized.
It’s never been a mystery,
sweetness sprinkled with lies.
There’s no prize, no highs,
no compromise, just goodbyes.

What’s the difference between friend and foe?
I give the answers to questions I don’t know.
You say you care but it’s something you don’t show,
I doubt the sentiment’s there, but it deals a heavy blow.

You take it all out of me,
want more than I could be.
Draining my energy
till I can’t stand or breathe.
The skies remain so grey,
and that’s how they’ll all stay,
I’m fighting for one single sun ray.

One day I should sever the ties
if I wake up, suddenly not hypnotized.
To hell with history,
I’ve got it all memorized.
No note, just a list for me,
to advise but the size,
exposes your true guise.

I won’t even try to pretend,
that we both haven’t went off the deep end.
So what’s the difference between foe and friend?

One day I should sever the ties
‘cause you’ll never wake up or realize.
To hell with history,
I’ve got it all memorized.
And oh, how you’ll miss me,
when no one listens to your cries,
or your sighs, or your lies,
or goodbyes.

I’ve been holding you afloat,
trying to keep you from drowning
in your tears.
I know you secretly have a boat,
but you’ve actually been dead for years.

It may seem like

you're burning away  all  your  worries

                                   that you feel lighter

and it just helps you escape depression

                                               momentarily

                          but continues to eat you,

                  darken, what was once pure;

and push you more

towards the point of no return.


Ask yourself.
Is it the best solution?
Is it really worth it?
Is this the help you need?

Some things should never be burned away.
(And some things can't be.)

I walked myself
off of the cliff
over the edge.

And for you
it still wasn't enough.

It only lasts for a limited period of time, coincidence this just describes my happiness or the beings in this life. It's crazy how nothing never lasts, I've forgotten the sound of my laughter. I fall for a temporary high, my temporary escape; what I think I need to get by . I want anything but temporary, I crave for something that will be permanent. My soul acquiesce to anything temporal, but I now renounce all that. I just despise how confidence seems to vanish right at the time you need it the most, I mean there will be days where my dear friend confidence will be there but what's the use of her when she'll just disappear the moment a remark would be made about me. Whenever that angry voice in these four walls in my mind would tell me "you're ugly" "you're too skinny or too fat". I tried to recover, I tried my best to get better but somewhere along the way I realised it was all temporary. I fell apart again, I lost again and they'd laugh at me! Crying myself to sleep seems like the best option but I go with the unhealthy coping mechanism; slitting my wrists. The pain seems acceptable for awhile but what happens when you got so used to the blade that you can't even cope without it. I thought it was temporal, I thought I'd manage without it but I'd tell myself "one cut upon that wrist means a step closer to goodbye".

Fly–Floating away
Toes gripping the earth

“Not today.”—and I sway

Rush 2 grab what little I have
                                                            ­                                  Are you mad?
3 to 1
And the bottle’s gone

Fictitious lawn
Fumbling home
Stare deeply—oh dead-eyed drone

Screams turn to whispers
My mental blisters—take haste and heal
Inevitable scars?
And still I a–peel

Shoot up
                                                              ­                              Good morning.
Blinded by salty I’s
Higher eye rise

                                                           ­                            You must be mad.

Surprise!
Skies contaminated by cries
Ensuring an anticipatory demise
No way to sur–                                                             ­                     prise!

Heart drops
Incohesive thoughts

Towards regrets
Plunging until the earth is met

Shoot up—Grounded
                                                     ­                                           Not for long.
And I sway

sitting across from you
at the white kitchen table
or cross-legged on my side of the bed
is someone hollow.
not as sweet as a fig. not as dead
as the inside of a black rotting trunk
but close. i do not hold beautiful things
like a terracotta vase. inside my head
is a seam ripper that splits everything
down the middle. sometimes
you are standing in front of the bright window,
glowing like a saint. sometimes
i let you fall into an algae-lined pool
that i will not pay to have cleaned.
everything is floating within me.
i haven’t figured out
how to anchor this stuff down.

no one ever taught me how

I know what ensues.
It's a bitter fact,
Pain, hate and abuse.
It hurts me to say that
You're monstrous.

Just how can I hate you?
You were my hero once.
I cannot erase you,
You're the air in my lungs
But cancerous.

There’s nothing worse than a girl desperate for love:

A girl that pities herself enough to think she is so intrinsically broken
she couldn’t even connect with someone biologically destined to love her;
A girl stupid enough to learn that love is a reward that she must earn,
yet frantic enough to always work too hard for it;
A girl that overcompensates. Begs. Forces.
A girl that claims she ‘Doesn’t know what to do with love’
when it comes along, so that, naturally, she can smother it;
A girl who’s biggest fear is abandonment, yet is an expert on expecting too much;
A girl that’s waiting to be saved, but would tell you she doesn’t deserve it;
A girl that still obsesses over ways she has been bruised
when surrounded by people that have helped her heal;
A girl who’s self involved, with no sense of self;
A girl that cries. And cries. And cries.

There’s nothing worse than a girl desperate for love.