A warm summer day
Me, in a blue denim dress
Counting your eyelashes
Soft touches
Lips grazing
A whispered declaration
One single moment,
expanded into our personal eternity
You
and Me.

I kissed your lips and I tasted his smile
Caught between morality and a lack of basic human functionality
But when it's just you and me
alone in a sea of blankets and whispers that graze my lips
warm promises that wrap themselves around me
until there is no room for thought
Lost in your arms, I feel my self-restraint leaving my body
I can't even begin to retrieve it.

I still like you.
Rather, I still have feelings for you.
In a romantic way.
And I don't know why I'm saying this because it doesn't matter and it doesn't change anything.
And I know you don't feel that way about me anymore.
But it's the truth.
So i just thought you should know.

I talk about you way too much,
I often find myself with a big dumb grin on my face when I look at you.
I want to hold your hand and kiss your cheek.
When I see your smile the world stands still, and when you're in my arms I feel complete.
I find myself thinking about us living together, what our kids would be like.

Most of all, I want to spend every minute, every second with you.
I know I'll never find anyone else quite like you. You're so special to me.
I'm sorry. For everything.
I know this all doesn't matter,
I know that there's no chance to fix things.
But I still love you.

Nothing changes
You have accomplished nothing
You are nothing
Nothing.

Thoughts settling deep inside me
In the pit of my stomach
I can throw them up again tomorrow
But the words come back
Nothing.

Try to shift focus
Ignore the painful pull
Forget the words devouring your sanity
A sharp sting at your wrists
Quick relief
Until the illness drowns you

No escape.
Can't breathe.
Nothing.

I fall asleep with
scars on my skin and worries
under my pillow

I cut myself up
many ragged pieces hit the floor
torn and frayed beyond repair.
You hurry to stitch me back together
before I become unrecognizable
before the remaining scraps are too worn for recovery.
Reassembly is valiantly attempted
but the pieces don't fit
rips and tears that no longer form a whole.
You can't find me again.

I miss you.
The urge to reach
across the void possesses me
I desperately want to
close the space I have created between us
pull you flush against my chest and
shake you until it sinks in
and you come to realize that
I MISS YOU

But a hypocrite I am not
So i retreat
back to my own side
and hope that my thoughts
will penetrate your doubt.

I don't use beautiful, eloquent language
that softly tumbles from the mouth.
I don't write unique metaphors
that make the world seem profound and meaningful.
Life is short and simple
and that is how I write.

Your car was in a parking lot. I was immediately paralyzed by fear. A sigh of relief escaped me when a young woman opened the door.
2. I saw you in Elliot Rodgers. How he believed that women exist to fulfill his needs. When he took out those who didn't.
3. Your face appeared in a dream. Patronizing me, chastising me. Blood blossomed from my wrists. I woke up disappointed.

I'm very tired
but my head is full of you
so sleep eludes me

Life is dreadful but
who knows if death is any
more desirable.

I can’t be the girl
that’s got it all together
managing all that life throws at her
and still keeping a smile on her face
I’m the girl with a panic attack around every corner
who manages to turn a small task
into a mental breakdown

I can’t be the girl
who’s happy just to be on this earth
smiling at your sweet words
even on the worst of days
I’m the girl that wakes up most days
wishing she never existed
because that would be better
than living as a complete failure

I can’t be the girl
who believes you when you say
“i love you”
accepting your compliments
and knowing she is beautiful
I’m the girl that sees every part of herself as a flaw
and can’t understand how you could love
someone completely worthless

I can’t be that girl.
I'm just me.

what i'd really like to do
is cut into my veins
to search for answers
about how to make my heart stop beating
how to stop feeling
how to find the courage
to end it all

for now
i settle for reality tv
and gorging myself on junk food
but the thoughts still linger
eating away at any sanity i have left

special skills? well, i
write depressing poetry
late at night, sometimes.

thin lips
fat cheeks
dull eyes
blotchy skin
uninviting
grotesque
lackluster
young

ugly

and picking at the imperfections
only makes them more prominent
until they are all i can see

I feel empty.
Hollow.
Sometimes it feels like an improvement
better than the pain
it's deceiving in that way.
Because what is the point of it all
if I feel nothing?

Pain is better.
Pain is something.
Pain means I'm still living.
I want to feel.
Anything.

So I dig
deeper and deeper
but I find no secrets hidden within my flesh.
Empty.

But for a second
before the pain fades away
I can pretend.

Sometimes when I look at myself
all I can see is
ugly
worthless
****
I learned this from you.

You taught me that nothing I ever did was good enough
not for you
or anyone else
I would never be enough

Most importantly, you taught me what love is
That to love someone
I have to give away everything I am
my confidence
my body
my self-worth
until I am only an empty shell of a person
so they can hold power over me

Sometimes
when I can’t find these pieces of me
I can see your face
contorted with rage
insistent, pleading until I obey
or
smirking, condescending
I can hear your voice
you can’t wear that, you look like a ****
I’m the only one who really loves you
I did it for you, you owe me
I don’t owe you anything.

I taught myself how to love who I am
Reassembling all the pieces that you stole from me
took everything I had but
I am beautiful.
I am loveable.
I am worth something.
No one can ever change that.

The physical act of putting pen to paper
is something that I try to avoid.
Because
It makes my wrist hurt and
I collect a fine coating of graphite on my hand and
I'm bound to mess up at least once
And the eraser leaves those smudges
That make the perfectionist in me shriek with displeasure.

It's not until I force myself,
journal in hand,
To sit down and move the thoughts out of my head
That I remember why I love writing.
It takes this jumbled mess of
feelings
words
thoughts
And turns them into something.
It turns me into something.
And it's worth all the
messy hands
sore wrists
and mistakes in the world.

I remember when we were children
And they told us
You can do anything!
and
Dream big!
And the kids would speak of
astronauts
ballerinas
doctors
and for me,
writers.

I remember when they told me to follow my dreams
And the world seemed limitless
They say that coming down to "reality"
is a part of growing up
Did we grow up and out of our dreams,
or did they force their "reality" onto us?

Sometimes it feels like
I'm on vacation and soon
I'll wake up at home.

Yes, I still crave dad's
approval. Maybe I'll strip
my way through college.

How dare you.
You are full of lies.
Pretending that you love her because it's
"that day"
And people have
"expectations"
of you.
It's insulting that you could possibly think you are fooling anybody.
Anyone could see through the cheap candy and drugstore card.
You're only pretending.

Sometimes, when it feels like I am drowning in my problems,
I wish I was five again.
So I could just hug my teddy bear and all of my problems would disappear.
Like magic.

He frightens me.
McMurphy.
It’s been a very long time since I’ve felt true fear but
He really scares me.
Not him as an individual of course,
In a one-on-one battle of wits or physicality
I would come out on top.
I have the resources.
But I see how he rallies the others,
and that poses a threat to my control.

I like control.
Even more than that though
I crave it, need it.
I must have control over this hospital.
Most people have control over their own lives,
It keeps them sane.
Not me.
It was taken from me long ago.

His name was Paul.
My mom brought him home one night,
calling him my “new daddy”.
I was only eight years old,
Not old enough to know this was more of her crap.
I just trusted.

I figured it out
Soon after he started hitting me.
He wasn’t any sort of father,
But he had just as much control over me.

After that I just remember
an overwhelming feeling of helplessness.
Years passed,
more men came and went,
None of it mattered.
My life was no longer my own.
I would never control it again.

When I turned eighteen,
The best part of my life began.
I joined the army.
It changed everything.
No,
I did not regain control of my life.
But I learned a way to cope.
To ease the helplessness.
I learned to take control
Of others.
It was enough
to at least keep me sane
for the remainder of my life.

And then I ended up here.
At this hospital.
An easy way of life,
Controlling the weak.
Society has already worn them down
I just need to keep them that way.
It keeps me as happy as I can ever be.
I won’t let him ruin it.
He will not take away
My last little bit of sanity.
I will have
Control.

Normally I'd hate to use cliches
But for you, I have to make an exception
Because you take my breath away.
There, I've said it.
I'll admit it's corny.
Nevertheless, it's all too true.
It's that heart skips a beat,
I can't think straight when you're around,
I want to spend every moment with you kind of love.
You make me experience a whole bundle of cliches,
And it gives them real meaning.

He calls me a *****.
Gotta love being at home.
It's where the heart is.

Congratulations.
You managed to **** me the *******.
That's very hard to do.
Someone should give you a medal.

It's been so long since I was broken
I had nearly forgotten what being a useless ******* feels like.
Thanks for the reminder.

I'm in sync with you,
and you don't even recognize it.
Your foot taps out a rhythm on the floor,
little do you know there's a matching song in my head.
The smile etched on your face
is echoed on my lips.
Meeting you breath for breath,
inhale and exhale in time to yours.
Unconsciously, you form a connection with me
Your only tool being natural instinct.
I already feel you so close to me,
But when you say those words it makes it that much more real.
I know that you feel me too.

The shadow hangs behind me
Stalks me, skulks around me in the brilliant sunlight.
Not even attempting to hide from me.
It's always hanging around, pressed to the sidewalk.
I become accustomed to its constant presence,
Forgetting that it still lingers at my feet.
But when it makes itself known to me again,
I freeze.
The knowledge that he is always there,
Fills me with dread.

I've learned to think you're not real.
It makes the situation easier,
It takes the edge off the pain.
Everything is clear cut
When the person who hurt you is a character.
When you created them only for a good story
That replays in your imagination.

But when they speak your name,
It occurs to me that you exist.
A person who walks these halls,
Just as I do.
A person capable of hurt and love.

And when the story is real,
My thoughts are that much more scattered.

One year, two, three
All of it blurs together.
My whole childhood,
gone in the blink of an eye.
Washed away with the waves of Huron.
In this moment,
the last of an era,
I want to stay.
I want to gather it,
pieces and fragments of seventeen years,
Into a blanket, surrounding me.
Close to me, within reach,
So it can't escape me.
Like if I wade in this deep blue,
Further and further,
I won't grow up.

The time has come,
To face my past.
The people I shared my life with,
are no more than faces.
Places that used to be my home,
are now unknown to me.
This life is a thing I don't recognize,
Have they changed, or have I?

What does it feel like
to be abandoned by hope?
A hole in your heart.

All the nights of my life
Blend together to form one time.
The same routine,
Constantly repeating.

Until you came along.
Then everything was different.
Each night was special, unique.
The stars smiled at me from my window,
The night sky blessed me with thoughts of you.
Even the moon put on its best dress
For us.

Until you left.
It all evaporated.
The nights mashed back together
Into one sloppy portrait
With so many missing pieces.

I went to that place today.
You know the one.
The one we went to together in the midst of a freezing winter
For some hot food and seclusion from the rest of our world.
The one with the school across the street
That we snuck into in the fleeting night
To climb the castle and have our first kiss at the very top.
I went to that place today.
The one filled with you.

Could you just jump back into my life?
The easy conversation, laughter, smiles
Dry up when you're gone.
My world is dim when you're not there.

It all amounts to
an awkward brunch and a wave.
Glad it was worth it.

I know
I'm not her.
I'm not your special girl
anymore.
I'm just some girl
who used to be your world.
But please
Try not to forget me.

I don't regret you
All I want is peace of mind
And to move on, alone.

The hardest part of
being alone is learning
to love who you are.

Tears roll down his face
Plip
Plop
They splatter on the ground
Crushed
Just like his hopes,
for an "us"

An arbitrary
term, that's what a "best friend" is
The words mean nothing.

You cannot be him
He is the one I think of
Every day and night.

Devoid of feeling
I'm lost inside of myself
A wandering soul.

There is a morgue in my bedroom.
Past all the happy memories,
Hidden in my closet,
The dead lie, waiting.

It contains deceased memories, relationships
Expired love.
In the form of stuffed animals, cards, notes, pictures
I hide my grief.

Some may call it a cemetery, but it is not.
It is not a resting place for the dead,
but a place for restless memories to skulk.
A haunting ground.

I want you gone.
Removed from my heart,
Erased from my brain,
Eradicated from my skin.
As if you were never there,
Your fingertips never traced my lips,
And your words never wound their way into my memory.

If only I had known our love wasn't made to last,
I need never be ruled by the ghosts of my past.

Turbulent
Some would say
Rocky
Was the word people used
to describe us
Unhealthy
Hurtful
Pointless
And sometimes I couldn't help but to agree.

We were
Up and Down
Back and Forth
Round and Round
But I did not see it as
Painful
To me it was
Passionate
It was
Love.

So much to think about,
My mind is spinning round and round.
Who am I, who will I be
If I release the real me.
Hidden away I am safe from the world,
But there will be a time when all of me is revealed.
I am scared to let myself be free,
No one would ever love the real me.