flowers
don’t bloom in concrete
I haven’t felt
warmth in 214 days
your eyes
tell me you remember
three years ago;
an unraveling
of flowers
the hazel
of which
reminds me
of the sunlight
on my grandmother’s
wooden floor.
your girl looks at you
in a picture on your timeline
does she see
your eyes
in the back
of her eyelids
did she ache for 423 days
without you
for your sake,
I hope she did.

" I see my altoids box where i used to keep my razor blades and pins . I see the empty space where my door used to hang . I see my empty wall that used to be full of vibrant possibilities . I see my broken mirror . I see my self inflicted wounds "
" I can touch my chest and feel my heart beating rapidly beneath it . I can touch my collar bone that is jutting out of my body . I can touch the pens that write my words when I cannot speak them . I can touch my tears that are falling down my face . "
" I can hear voices that are telling me to commit ***** crimes . I can hear mice scurrying through my walls . i can hear my brothers sound asleep . "
" I can smell my mixture of perfumes . I can smell blood from my arms . "
" I can taste salt water leaking from my eyes "

Why don't people want you,
who loved you once before
Broken heart's beyond repair,
are lost forevermore
Feelings hurt through emptiness,
they always feel so raw
Severed hearts forever torn,
the one true lovers flaw

A heart that is so delicate,
a life you can forsake
It only causes upset,
when heart's begin to brake
Chains of love have rusted,
links to your own heart ache
Severed hearts are locked away,
within a lovers wake

Sincere hearts are hard to find,  
it's why lovers get downhearted
After all loves riches gained,
why are they disregarded
A lovers pain it never dies,
true hearts are not *******
Severed hearts are bled dry,
when a rejected souls bombarded

If I could mend our Severed hearts,
if I could seal the crack
I'd hold my lover close again,
and get our hearts on track
No one needs a broken heart,
or the absence of love's lack
Severed hearts can be repaired,
if you take lost lovers back

Flights of poison arrows,
the infection of love's darts
Hearts shattered in the fallout,
into a thousand parts
The lose of a true lover,
due to loves cruel arts
All True lovers should remain,
instead of severed hearts

I am scared of taking a bath
Because I’m afraid I will slip under
And drown myself

I am scared of driving a car
Because I’m afraid I will veer off the road
And crash at full force

I am scared of cooking with a knife
Because I’m afraid I will lose control
And slice it across my wrist

I am scared of taking pills when I’m sick
Because I’m afraid I will get tempted
And swallow the whole bottle

I am scared of being near a gun
Because I’m afraid I will point it to my head
And fire it through my brain

I am scared of everyday things
And afraid of trusting myself

I am scared of the world
And afraid I can’t take it any longer

I am scared of myself
And afraid of what I will do

Outside of the library,
On a wet, wet day,
You smiled and said
'I love you'
Before walking away
Towards the platform, where you depart,
And I know that I will always feel this way
About you.

You run your fingers through my hair and with them bring
The cool, fresh air that
I have longed for, all throughout the
Winter.

The green flecks and
The blue hues of your eyes
Connect you to this current season:
Springtime.
Through your warmth and light,
You have given me
New life.

I have been told that said eyes are the window to the soul, so
When we kiss we must never keep our eyes closed;
An exchange of hearts for an exchange of souls that will continue, and
Never grow old.

Numb.
I cannot feel the sunburn on my back.
I cannot feel pain as I glide the blade against my skin.
I no longer feel the spark in my heart.

My head is constantly crowded with nonsense.
All I can see is a little red-headed boy.
He plays with blocks in a sepia-toned room.
I know he is not real.
I have never seen him before, but I know this imagery all too well.
He comes from a photograph from long ago.
He is my reality now.

He lays on the carpet tinted a light green.
He is stacking blocks with different letters on them.
I feel as if I should pay attention to their order.
Is he trying to tell me something?
The letters are blurry, as if I am reading without my glasses.
What could this boy be trying to tell me?
I lean in closer when his image ripples away as if this photograph was dipped into a chemical bath.
Reaching out my hand, I cannot touch him.
I remember he is just a hallucination.
Reality hits me aggressively.

I'm sitting on my bedroom floor, blade in my hand when my phone lights up.
Grabbing my phone, I let the blade fall.
I can feel my heart pound for the first time in months.
I am hoping to hear from a friend.
Instead, a game is inviting me to come back and play.
I know it now.

I am alone.

I am alone with my thoughts and with this boy who isn't real.
I crave human interaction.
I look at the blade on the floor.
I look at my skin tinted red.
I crave being in the same sepia photograph as that boy.
I wouldn't be alone.
I wouldn't be red.
But I only know one way to travel back to him.
I pick up the blade once more and press it hard into my skin.

Numb.
I cannot feel the sunburn on my back.
I cannot feel pain as I glide the blade against my skin.
I no longer feel the spark in my heart.

I cannot stand to be alone anymore.