My head is behind on the rent
The eviction notices never end
Overflowing
Choking me
Smothering me until I can't breathe.

The lights are out  
and the bills aren't paid
it's been months
a few weeks
or days?
too long to be sure.

My fridge is empty
my ribs are bare
my cheeks are hollow
and I'm losing my hair

There isn't any water
So I can't wash away
the pain of today
and yesterday

I'm so cold
and my fingers are blue
my heart is black
and numb
at this point
my entire being is done

I'm going under
there's no hope
I have reason
to not swing from this rope
So please remind me
just one more time
that you believe that ill survive.

I am currently going through
A rough time.
I have kinda been saying this since elementary school.
At first, it was the death of grandmother.
Two weeks before my eighth birthday.
I guess that was God was saying,
“Happy ******* Birthday, expect the rest of your life to ****.”
That Christmas, I found out that my “daddy”
Wasn’t my daddy, but my stepdaddy
And my real father was a pill pumping *******
Love you, dad, xoxo.
New Year’s my stepdad leaves my mom
And kidnaps my brother
We are homeless
My mom starts drugs
I am assaulted by my uncle
He sticks his finger in my mouth
I cry.
He leaves too.
We move in with mom’s new boyfriend
We starve
Get hit
Listen to them wither.
I cut myself for the first time
Foster care
Drunk man tells me I’m pretty
Until he found out I was a ******.
Maggots crawl through my floor
I write my first poem
I move.
Stop my mom from suicide
Stop myself from suicide
Drive a car for the first time
Mom meets another man
For my 16th birthday
He wants to make me woman
He touches me for months
Takes my pants off
I cry.
I don’t tell my mom
Then I do.
She kicks me out.
I live with my boyfriend.
My grandfather, finalizes his will
On thanksgiving.
I spiral down to the point that I hate holidays,
Find no joy in the regular days,
Feel nothing any day.
Hell.
Is what I am living in.

I don't want to talk about you anymore
because my lips hurt.
and my tongue burns
from the taste of you.  

I don't want to think about you anymore
because my head pounds
and every single sound
sounds like you.

I don't want to see you anymore
because my sting
and water
when you are gone.

I don't want to smell you anymore
because my nose is clogged
and everything smells foggy
and old.

I don't want this anymore.

My chest is yours to crawl in
You constrict my lungs
Play patty cake with my heartbeat
Make yourself a nest in my ribcage
When I speak too loudly
Or jostle too much,
You turn into a hurricane
Where I feel the rumble in the back of my throat
But I dare not kick you out
Cause you have embedded yourself behind every vital *****
Where if you go, they all do
Bye bye kidney one
Two
Bye liver
Heart
Brain
Your hands lace through my bloodstream to find yourself once again
Touching me
Everywhere I don’t want you to
My stomach
My thighs
Every place I swore to change for you
You never fret
When the times are good.
When I lose my voice for the sake of convenience
Or not gaining too much attention
Or when I don’t ask for love letters.
Or romance.
Or presents on holidays.
We get along fine when I let you have your way
Let you tell my spine when and where to show up
And when I never ask you to invest yourself in me
God forbid you go to thanksgiving with me to my family
Or to Christmas
Or my grandmothers grave
I don’t like letting myself get low,
Cause you always turn yourself into a rock
That sinks down into the pit of my stomach
So heavy
Becoming just another weight to carry

The door is locked
the key is gone.
swallowed.
sorry.
Can't help you.
Or you.
I helped myself.
I felt as though I deserved a chance
and by giving myself that chance
I took yours.
My stubborn little brother
I am sorry.
My words fall flat on your ears
you miss me.
I'm living.
I was so breathless there,
constantly giving.
I took and now you're without.
I'm sorry.
You called to ask me how my day was.
I can't give you my answer.
I'm sorry.
Forgive me.
I love you.
I'm sorry.

I looked into my chest for a reason;
weaved through the vines
and flowers rooted in my lungs.
I searched beneath the butterfly intestines,
the flowing river, and  
I ignored the drifters floating by.
I searched for what seemed like hours,
though it may have been but a minute.
I wanted so badly to find it.
But I didn't.
Instead.
I  found my mother's necklace.
The one that I gifted her on mothers day
and she threw back on a later date.
I found the four notes that I wrote
when I hit rock bottom.
I found the time I fell into a creek
and felt the air leave my lungs
before my grandmother pulled me from the water,
then was pulled from me into a sickness.
I found the hands of every man who ever touched me.
found the first poem i ever wrote
found the razor blade
found the ripped jeans
hairbands
car keys
but I didn't find my reason.
I didn't find the reason why she left me
the reason behind every lie.
The reason why I can't sleep at night
but she is sleeping tight.
The reason why I can roll so smoothly off her back
while she does nothing but stab mine.
I don't know if i ever will.
But I'll keep searching.

How can you still
Hold my hand while
stealing my breath?

There are things inside me that are broken,
shattered by my own  hand.
Parts of me that are open
to the travelers of the land.
A part of me is willing
to go where none has before.
Somewhere the woods are silent
and I can peacefully sleep on the floor.
Tell me your darkest secret
and I will whisper mine.
Only in those moments
are our hearts intertwined.
We have become divided,
distant on our own.
Being right beside her
while wishing to go home.

Take me to a place where the air stands still.
Where I will be but a whisper
heard only by the stars.
Where I will be trapped in my bones.
Held down not by earthly conventions,
but by my will.
Where there is moonlight leaking through every window.
Where the ground weeps for my footsteps,
the sky aches for my grace.
Take me where I am can become my own cave,
feel the serenity of being
against the feeling of survival.

She crackles like a campfire
Looking
And listening.
Still feral.

Wild eyes.
Big as moons,
And a maze.
Piercing.

She moves with purpose
But stops to smell the roses.
Feels but never touches
Hears
And always tastes.

Leaving copper on your tongue.
Debates spark at her footsteps.
Hello she says
Just as fast as goodbye

Lightning with no storm
She is beautiful.
In every way

I want to feel like the other half of him.
but
instead,
I feel like the lesser half of you.
You are always one step ahead of me.
ready to pull the trigger
before I even know you have a gun.
I walk in your shadow
and no matter how many times I pay the electric bill
I am never seen.
Every movement is yours.
my tongue is lost in the phrases you once said.
my eyes show clips of you.
your laugh escapes my teeth.
It is your hands encircling my throat.
your legs guiding my feet to the grave.
I am never able to breathe without asking your lungs.
I am never able to think without asking your mind.
I am never myself, but
always you.

I promise I will get better,
if you give me
time.

My Little Pony makes me think of papaw.
Weekend visits with Saturday cartoons,
We’d sit in the living room together and watch tv
Or read the newspaper.
He’d whistle so softly that my ears would strain to hear it.
Then he’d fall asleep and small snores left him in
Tiny puffs of breath.
The newspaper lay forgotten in his lap.
Eventually, he’d wake up and try to act as though
He’d been awake the whole time.
“That one is Applejack, right?” he’d ask
And although it was obviously Fluttershy,
I would ask playfully if he watched it when I wasn’t there.
But, overtime
The snores darkened
And the breath more shallow.
I began to listen more to his breath than the show,
And watch the rise and fall of his chest instead of the screen.
I waited on edge for him to wake up.
And he would.
Except, he stopped waking up last year.
His snores evaporated
And his breath died.
And with that,
So did my love for my little pony.

You made it just in time,
For me to reminisce.
Looking back through the glass
I vividly see your face.
Your smile
Your hair
The way we’d encase our love
In midnight conversations.
You were
And still are
My love.

with your upturned nose
so naturally, you were born to be ******.
Your hands so genetically set at a predisposition to
wrap around your own throat.
Whilst your heart yearns and aches for every heartthrob story out there.
You walk around like the world is inside you.
As if you are neither too good to be on top,
but not good enough to uphold it.
You act as if you represent human nature in all of your flaws
instead of admitting to yourself that you have low impulse control.
I noticed you haven't been wearing shoes lately
you pretend to like the way the textures of Earth feel on your skin
but I am you
so I know you're only wishing to cut your feet.
The world looks so small through your telescope eyes,
so far from the ground even though you are standing on it.
Nothing makes you more special than the times you look away,
when the light hits the scar on your forehead.
Of course, you don't know this.
You're too busy thinking of other things,
wrapped inside your mind like a blanket.
This is a reminder to breathe.
To look in the mirror like you love it.
And to let yourself feel something beyond what's fake.

you asked me to stay home while you worked.
I would take care of the house and the baby.
you would give me the money and I pay the bills.
I went to school and did the paperwork.
I cleaned every room.
You told me that you hated your job.
So now you stay at home while I work.
I still go to school.
I still take care of the baby.
I still clean the house.
I still do the paperwork.
I feel drowned by the promises you didn't keep.
Your video games wake me from my daydream.
Your voice soothes my anger,
but it never leaves.

At what point does love become love?
When the butterflies become eagles flying in your stomach,
And your heart skips too many beats?

Does it start when you come together
and your eyes connect like old friends.
your hands meeting like they’ve been apart for too long.
When there is too much distance between your knees
And not enough time in the day to look at them.

Does love come after you’ve carved your names in the sandstone behind your house?
wrote their name on the corner of your paper,
As if they are your new sun.

Or is  love when you talk to them while they ****.
And sit naked to talk
Or after you adopt two dogs,
Begin step-fathering a cat
Begin the process of adopting another cat
And mourning the loss of two pups along the way
All while having a child of your own

Is it when you agree to argue,
because the relationship is so perfect, it leaves no room for anger?
When passion is so bright that marks are left and cherished?
And each day is the first time that they smiled at you,
The first time you kissed, touched, yelled.

Love is hearing that people knew you two were getting together
Long before either of you did.
Knowing what the other wants without even thinking about it

Love is buying socks for Christmas
And not being disappointed.
Buying candles that you both like.
Never cleaning the house when you say you will.

Sleeping with two blankets but never feeling separated
Compromising on the small things
Struggling together for the big  

It is seeing them pack on a few pounds
And wish they would put on more.
Because each pound in another that you can love
And hold.


Love doesn’t come from the big infatuations
the loud confessions on rooftops
Or swimming pools full of rose petals.
And diamonds on a weekday
It is the soft shelled,
Gross
mess
that makes every day more amazing than the last.