death comes knocking door to door
the thought to answer so incandescently present in my brain
so ingrained in my thoughts
but i don’t do it
i sit in agony and watch as death walks away
it’s strange
i miss him
i hope he comes back to knock on my door
this time maybe i’ll answer
this time maybe i’ll finally be set free

i don’t know who i am anymore
i feel myself becoming her
becoming all that i said id never be
the cigarettes i used cough around are now the only way i feel at ease
the alcohol id get goosebumps from is now the only thing to numb the pain in my mind
the razor i had used to feel pretty i now use to free my mind from its torment
the body i used to call beautiful i now see as disgusting  
the friends i thought i’d hold onto forever are now slipping through the cracks
the person i used to be is gone
i’m her now

an angel on a horse
you are an angel on a horse
galloping around a meadow of our memories
the good part of it all
and as the sun touches your face
the blue in your eyes glistening
the song in your heart echoing through the leaves
as it all starts to look up
the song in your heart comes to a standstill
the lush green forest turns into mulch
the
you look down and there i am
with a knife to your heart watching the notes of song pour out
along with the shining velvet of my pain dripping down inherently
it was all a lie
for you are the devil in disguise
and i fell for it

i come stained
unable to wash him away with every attempt i make
unable to reverse the mistake i made
the looks i gave
the flame i ignited
it’s my fault
it’s my ******* fault
although not physical,
i am stained
my heart so fragile, so disposable
that with every beat it becomes more and more empty
my brain eventually letting go of any thoughts it blurts out
until i depend on no one but myself
but how can i depend on myself when i myself am the predator

knuckles tucked under warm sweaters
hugs masking the falling snow
birds all wrapped up in their feathers
watching all of winter grow

melted marshmallows on a stick
family gathered around it all
never once feeling sick
of the surplus of joy not present in fall

christmas carolers chanting lyrics
showing what it means to be
putting aside all our gimmicks
underneath the christmas tree