You find that breathing
becomes impossible,
so you open your skin.
You distract yourself
from the ache that you
can't quite pinpoint, but
feel everywhere.
I know, I've been there too.
What I wouldn't give
to be able to take your hands
in mine, soothe the pain
we've both felt.
To wrap you in light when
all you beg for is dark.
This love I now carry
was saved for someone
like you, and how I'd
love to be the one to
save you.

Drowning wouldn't be
awful. Holding your breath,
trying to stay alive - that's the
killer. But after that? Darkness,
silence. Calm. Peaceful actually.
Not so bad.

Burning. Just a warm hug.
A warm hug that doesn't want
to stop hugging. Imagine something
loving you that much?

How about a bullet?
Straight into the bullseye
you've painted on
your head. So quick.
Less painful than the life
that you're convinced you're
not really living. Messy though.

I still chose life.
I will always choose
to keep living.

When I met him,
he was two years younger
and at least twice as thin.
I wanted so badly what
I couldn't have.
The first time he kissed me,
I thought maybe I was wrong.
Why couldn't it have stopped at
kissing?
He wanted to touch me,
to run his hands over my skin.
He understood when I told him "no",
but he didn't get it.
I loved him,
and I was terrified to be seen by him.
Underneath my clothes is not
a skinny girl, like maybe
he expected to find.
God, do I love him,
so I will not let him love me.