i cannot stand her wealth of knowledge
or the way her cheeks ***** down to her neck
i hate the way she speaks in multi-syllables and similes
i hate her teeth
and the way she curves her mouth to grow wealthy in attention
the way she reaches out with slick palms and ears disgusts me
i hate her anxiety
and how she thinks the way she holds a cigarette is special
i cannot stand the rumbling of distress under her bones
or the way her eyelids close, laden with anticipation

it's like when you squint your eyes and
what's in front of you doubles
each form hovering in synchronization
moving in and out of focus

i have run out of words and
well-formed sentences
to describe to you how my skin burns
and my bones are knives

what used to be talent
is now a mess of pathetic
failures hidden inside tangles of simple metaphors

and
i cannot stop telling myself
that the safety and balance that i crave
is the lining of the coffin.

what made it all so magical was the snow fall. with squinted eyes, you could spot each individual flake, lackadaisically trailing its brothers and sisters to the ground. they all seemed to travel together regardless. an entire world of movement, and i loved the way simon shed his coat, smiling at the wind. savoring each chilled breath.

skinned knees and reddened cheeks. fingers curled up into sleeves to prevent the kiss of the wind, and ears blushed when met with snowflakes. in this way, the easy cries of the girls, the sound of bodies hitting the packed snow, it was romantic. how the adrenaline bound us together like a drunken pack of fools.

i started to feel the dissonance, the gnawing urge that was dragging me away from the wide pleasure of the snow and companionship. fingers fumbled for damp cigarettes and eyes turned to the sky, hoping to find the answers written in the milky patterns of the clouds.

i turn and turn and turn and turn away
from this ache.

aching to smother this pull with another, something that could possibly ground me to this moment.

i always feel like i'm floating. disconnected from the words and hands and laughter that encase me.

"i only smoke spirits because they're organic."

as if the acrid curl of harsh smoke in my lungs is any easier to swallow.

i turn and turn and turn and turn and eyes draw, mouths form the scarlet color that became my identity and i pray to god that they follow. i pray to every and any deity that their palms won't lose their hold on my slipping form.

my heart murmurs in waves:

if i walk far enough, maybe i'll disappear.
it's not always your job to fix the things that you broke between your hands.
if i walk far enough, maybe i'll disappear.
red. red. red. red.
if i walk far enough, maybe i'll disappear.
i spent six days in that hospital and do you know who called me every single night?
if i walk far enough, maybe i'll disappear.
six days, and only one person called every night.
if i walk far enough, maybe i'll disappear.
every. single. night.
maybe i'll disappear.

sometimes it feels like
the rush of voices
like a screaming river

are too loud for me to hear you
i have fought for safety for so long

sometimes it's in your arms
sometimes at the bottom of a bottle

but some quiet days
i feel so blindingly empty
that i have to seal up my eyes
from the fear of that **** window


i want to scrape off my skin with
the constant gnaw of my own demons
because regardless of my appeals
of my endless pleas

are heard by no ears

i can tell by the way i betrayed you
that my words and silences
that have always been held so
sweetly
are now the source of the anger rattling
your teeth

after every smile and unwanted touch and way in which my heart has leapt for what stings

i think one truthful murmur is overdue

we all know
that my heart strings yank and pull and
i really do this on purpose

because when your tender eyes wash over the guilt and shame that stain my hands like ink

(i wish with all of my heart
that this was over-dramatics)

you and i both know that
i don't deserve this brand of happiness

it's much easier
to ruin it.

are apologies required for the way
my veins pulse and burn for you?
for how your lips gracing my forehead
creates rivers of happiness and safety
within my skin, tentative drops of warmth
cascading down my skin?

it's some kind of shame that the only
way my words spill out is for your
hand in mine but

i know in the hallows of my heart
and the marrow of my bones that this
love is true.

the ache is so bitter after the
sun has kissed the horizon
sometimes it feels so bitingly hard
to breathe without your
body next to mine

please tell me something
am i true?
do you see me and understand that
i a m r e a l
i can only see your face
but whose?
OFF MY CHEST
off my soul

tell me how you want me
make me understand what lies behind that sanguine smile

i want to understand where the content of my soul lies
am i content? honorable? confused?

the way you touch my ******* contests
with the way you tell me
you're my world
what's a world?
what's a truth?
whats the way to tell you how i feel about you?

this isn’t a poem
just a rambling of rhymes by a drunk girl
veins full of whiskey and a home that hurts
i want you to hold me
why wont you understand?

this makes sense
i want you to understand that you are to me and
we are a pretense
please
hold me
tell me that the creation of the sight and
the movement between our eyes is true

i forget that i'm pretty
does my face create need in you?


i miss you
it always explodes
like a hope.


i want to take a nap and fall asleep to you the sound of your heartbeat
do you think of me?
in the night?
when you can't understand your feelings but you know its right?

this brand of  anger boiling inside my bones
makes me lash out because i feel
wronged
by what he did

took my innocence like a twig and snapped it in the wind

i'm sorry
i just want to be something to be proud of

TELL ME I'M WORTH SOMETHING MORE THE WORDS HE IMPRINTED ON MY LIPS

if everyone knew
the things i've done, the mistakes and
places and the ways i've lost my pride and grace for the sake of
sanity



help me please
words i despise but cant help but bleed
one more moment
maybe i'll become something i can stand
but good luck
even the drunk can't recreate again



i guess that's what i thought about him too
“too good to hurt me, that’s why i love him’
GOD WAS I WRONG
HE RUINED MY DEFINITION OF TRUTH
AND WHAT I THOUGHT I KNEW ABOUT
EVERY FACET OF MY SOUL
MY EXISTENCE
WHAT THREATENS TO BREAK AS IT QUIVERS AGAINST THE WIND
WHERE IS MY SAFETY


i’m still drunk
it's because my little girl body is small
the illness makes me weak
and the drugs make me not eat
i drink because it makes the rush of
my thoughts okay

and i can hang over that porcelain without regret


so i hide
in the end