but when she drew
that portrait of herself,
it didn't look anything
like her
she drew glimmering green eyes,
yellow flowers in her dark hair,
and a smile
she drew a genuinely
happy girl
and it was that right there
that caused her to
not see the resemblance
because she was so
used to seeing
an emotionless face
with sad eyes
without much character
in the mirror
that when she drew the smile,
she didn't recognize herself

~t.s.

ride or die
you keep me alive
giving me power and devotion
day after day
and honey, you're so dope
yet so elegant that
you may be compared to what
fills my eyes
and what hovers over the
unseen land of the deep blue sea
that we like to call
the bottom of the ocean
drizzling down my soul
to the dark gaps of my heart
darling, i see right through you
clear as day,
dark as night
you keep me here
yes, you keep me on my feet
supplying me with
love and emotion
like a druggie feeding it's body
the *******
it craves

~t.s.

don't let it sink in
don't let the love get to you
but it's hard when the
connected lips are all you think of
think of freedom
imagine intensity
how do such things
cause such beauty?
you kiss, then quit
and sometimes it turns into
a repeating cycle
kiss, quit
kiss, quit
and some how,
no matter how many times
you press your lips upon his,
the effect stays the same
and you feel the
butterflies flying,
birds chirping,
and the lions rawring
all because of a thing called
love
and love is always beautiful
unless you turn it ugly.

~t.s.

is the sun too bright in your eyes,
or does the fatality weaken your horizon?
only you can taste the salt draining from your eye lids.
does it sting your cheeks and make your dark makeup smudge?
fatality, define fatality.

do your ankles shake while your mind wanders?
black and white or colorful, are your dreams.
are you yourself, or are you this serial killer you've snuck around to be?

do the tears come from sadness or madness,
only you can perceive them through the eyes of their beholder
and you question yourself,
you question everything.

because all along, you knew he was the reason he is dead
opposed to technically, you are who pulled the trigger
however, his disloyalty is what drove you insane in order to reach this point in your head

and now you're living with the sight in your mind of
you standing with a smoky barrel,
blood dripping from his head,
and you crying all because you didn't provide him with the
intensity that he had in mind.

~t.s.

you act as if my heart was made of red clay found in the ground

cutting pieces out

molding it to your satisfaction

scratching it and patterning it the way you feel it needs to be

and now you've left it dripping with blood

with battle wounds worse than ever

and you didn't even try to fix the damage you had done    

you destroyed me beautifully

yet i feel so ugly.

come make a masterpiece out of me,

come make a masterpiece.

~t.s.

does your presence matter when
you're breathing
but not truly living?
no, you cannot help it
only your madness can,
only your madness can directly control your mind
but if you're not truly living,
just breathing,
then how would it effect your soul
when you're
not here to notice it?
and when you don't notice something,
you don't taste it,
or hear it,
and you can't reach out to touch it with your pale
fingertips
that crave texture and the warmth
of another individuals hands
and maybe just that
holding of the hands
will let your madness hide away
and will make your presence
feel mattered
and maybe,
you will truly start
living

~t.s.

she nearly cried
as she turned her back on
the horizon
because something about
the warmth and texture
that she felt
as she sunk into the sand
reminded her of the way
her body lied on his couch
in his arms.

and there was something
about the way the crisp air
brushed over her lips like he did.
because he was like
a long, electric, gust of wind
that kissed her lips so softly.

so, now he remains in her broken mind
snapping the lose threads
and creating a mess
because he knows he has this
nomadic strength over her soul.
and he knows he is her
darkest muse
singing her lullabies
late in the night
about why she didn't live
up to his expectations
leaving bruises on her frail skin.

and now she cries and apologizes
endlessly to a man
who is only in her mind
because he tied her beliefs
around his pale, veiny finger
to convince her that his ways around satan
are the same we must use to
reach heaven.

~t.s.

1) You told me you hated the way my hair fell into my face, so I parted it the other way and cried out apologies, hoping you could at least pretend to like me enough to stay. We drove for hours and although I was shy, I let you touch my thighs. I cried to my mother that night and insisted I wasn't worthy of a boy that would show me respect.

2) You liked girls who wore too much black and looked sad, so I colored my hair three shades darker and stopped smiling at my friends the way I used to. I dressed myself down to black lace in front of you. I still don't think it was enough.

3) You only talked to girls with dark pasts, so I ripped out my insides and laid them on your kitchen table. I think you left because even I was too broken for you to fix.

4) You whispered things in my ear that made me want to cringe, but I giggled at them anyway and fulfilled all your fantasies, wearing red lace this time because you were only captivated by *** appeal and all I wanted was your attention.

5) You drove with your knees because your hands were always occupied by beer bottles and when you offered me one, I remembered all the times I saw my father stumble into the house at 3am and pass out after yelling things he pretended to regret later, but I took one anyways and drank it to try and **** all the butterflies you put in my stomach.

6) You hated the color of my eyes, so I never made eye contact with another boy again. I let you scare me into new insecurities and turn me even colder than your touch.

the venom running through my veins
you sicken me,
making me see satan when i glance at a mirror
you're stellar with the way you flow through my body
so silkily slick,
tired yet energized.
are you red or black?
red as hell,
or black as my soul?
pick one, please pick one.
because id hate to go to hell
with a black soul.

~t.s.

why the sun is out, we will never know
perceptions of the yellow glow all differ
and who loves it and who doesn't all depends
but what would the world be without it?
we depend on it, just like you do with
his eyes
the warmth we receive from the sun
is the same you gain from his stare
glancing with the ocean blue gleam
"i know you, i walked with you once upon a dream"
and as you float back to reality while gazing into his world viewers,
you notice your life is this dream you dreamt
and you're walking with him
as the sun takes the background
and there you have it,
all the warmth a human could sustain

~t.s.

where the mind began to twitch
all together in the same house
where dying came last
as we aged and as she did too,
so we never left that house.
because mother feared the dangers,
and we didn't have many friends,
we kept our mouths shut,
even when we had much to say.
mother had her expectations,
because we were her kids after all.
"don't mess up,"
never came out of her mouth.
"what a lovely painting,"
i drew and drew
until i reached my stages of madness
because she didn't seem to care
but that's okay
not only was i insane, she was too.

(read from bottom to top now)

~t.s.

our love was reckless
yet admiring at the same time
he was my best friend
the one id call
the one id kiss.
his mind was clever
iconic,
nomadic
yet torn between
love and hate
because for him,
there was no in between,
there was nothing that
slivered through the cracks.
it was a one way go
and if he loved you,
you were lucky.
because it takes a lot for him to open his mind
to someone besides his demons
and there's nothing more
important
to him
than his demons
because he always said
"they are what keep me true to myself"
but never did he ever think
that they'd be the reason
that his soul would fly up to
the gods of his perceptions.

~t.s.

I pressed my lips onto yours so hard I could feel your teeth beneath the flesh. My face was cupped in your hands and we were so delicate. You were a daisy, a daffodil, a sunflower sprouting in my mouth and ******* I didn't realize I swallowed the poison called heartache until seven months later. I'm still scared of losing you although you're already lost and I'm scared of my hair never catching on fire again, but **** it's different when the fire is in your lungs. I can't breathe and I'm suffocating in your scent, and although you're the only one I see in my dreams, you're also who I see in my nightmares. Now you cup every girl's face in your hands and kiss her so hard that she swallows the blood from your chapped lips and you swallow her pride. And as she walks away from you with snakes swimming in her stomach, you smirk at her sister as you feel her freedom sink into your fingertips. You left me with cigarette burns and bourbon lingering on my tongue, and late at night when the moon is as bright as my eyes used to be, I feel the snakes awaken and I scream into my thighs because you poisoned me with this wicked curse of not knowing if my father means it when he says he loves me.

long nights of
strange men
and ***** water,
you can't see any further.
and you can't read your watch to tell the time
for you sold it
to a family who needed it
more than you did.
but that's just it,
you didn't need it
but now you do
you've gone somewhere
of a dark glow
not knowing which corners to turn
not remembering your childhood
because you keep thinking you'll find it
at the bud of a cigarette
or the bottom of each bottle called
jack daniels that you like to sip at
you don't find it odd anymore when those
strange men role down their windows
knowing you'll hop in with no second guesses
and you don't find it weird anymore that love hurts
because you keep convincing yourself
that these aged men love you
but who gives a ****?
who cares about who loves you?
you don't
and that's why you keep finding the emptiness of bottles
and ends of cigarettes
because your life is in that container of poison
and your life is in the nicotine of that drag
and once you take your last sip,
or your last puff
you're at the end of the road
with blood tracks that you can't wipe off
and now you're laying there with no pulse
because you thought
life was meant for the unstable

~t.s.

and if i fall too far
into the excessive arguments
between my heart and knowledge,
who will we blame at all?
because every beat my pulse gains,
the more i want him.
but every brain cell i have
declines the fact
that love will help my torn
soul
recover back to
colour.

~t.s.

you, so shiny bright
are who i walk to,
you take away my fright.
and i hope when
my soul departs,
you tag along
because i can't be without you,
and i hope
you are who i see
as my light.

~t.s.

thoughts that shatter and crumble before my eyes,
oh, the ones i despise.

you glitter and gleam in my mind,
tell me, why couldnt you be kind?

you left purple love marks upon my skin,
don't you know that is a sin?

i loved you through it all,
even though you made me feel so small.

~t.s.