i knew the moment you messaged me,
that my heart was on a noose,
and with every message you sent,
the closer i got to the edge.
i don't mind my lungs bleeding,
if they're bleeding for you.

i would give you the world,
but it is not mine to give,
and you don’t want it.

how could somebody's eyes,
hold so many seasons.

if i give you my heart,
please don’t squeeze too tight.
it’s still healing from the bruises,
the last one left behind.

here i am,
writing poems full of love,
for someone who’s not reading.

It's sadistic,
but it helps to know you hurt too.
My heart pleads to curl up in your arms,
cry until I can't breathe.

But instead I kiss you.
I need a relief from the maelstrom in my head,
a release of tension in my chest.

I expect you to push me off,
tell me to leave,
but you don't.
Your grip tightens.
I guess you never thought you'd have this again,
have me.

I want to claw at my chest,
give you my heart and show you,
that the scars have already formed your name.
It's yours now,
it always was and always will be.

I know its tattered and bruised,
weak and unused,
abused and confused,
but will you keep it with you?

I know in the morning I will see my marks on your neck,
and want to rip off your clothes and start all over again,
or worst kiss them better.
This was a mistake,
but I don't regret it one bit.

today I felt sad,
so today I took a pill,
and my sadness turned into a dull numbness,
and sometimes the pill makes me laugh,
and either way it protects me from my thoughts that haunt,
but now it’s wearing off,
and I’m sad,
so I will take another pill.

and the cycle is never ending.