the absence of you
hits like ecstasy

in the lake of my tar-black pupils
you can see the regret

my teeth chatter loudly
but you can still hear the sound of goodbye

right before the crash

dark rooms lead to
darker thoughts
i keep waiting for the sunrise
but it never comes

my stomach hurts
the music is from freshman year

everything ******* hurts
the floors have dust on them

sorry i am bad at poems
there's just really a whole lot
of nothing in my
life right now

i wrote you
a letter every day
letters to tell you
just how i feel

written in neat, curved
writing i told you
just how sweet
i thought you were
how you made my heart
glow

letters in which i wrote
with various colors of ink
pouring out my whole being
to you

i wrote you
a letter every day.

i wrote you letters in which
i told you how you made me
bloom.

eventually
i found myself
pressing harder on
the paper
than i had before.

creating tears in them
similar in shape
and size
as the ones
inside of me.

i began to send
letters
with creases
and bumps
and stains
splattered with tears

pouring
from my eyes

as i wrote
the anger
bubbling within me.

my last letter
addressed to you
contained
no words

but was blank.
because
i had none that

could reach
as far

and deep

into the cracks
of my
heart

to describe
just
what you

had left
of me.

Mental illness is like burning paper in the daylight.
You can hardly see the flame, but the pages disappear.

I used to believe
he had eyes the color of the ocean

I’m not so sure about that today

but I know his heart
is the color of the bottom of the deepest sea

everyday is the same
but
inside me a
rose is blooming

they whisper
whathappenswhenitdies?

they forgot that
dried petals
are beautiful as well