Be my life raft.
I am in dire need of saving.
I am drowning in the absence,
The absence of your love.
A choppy sea of misery.

These waters...
Break me in two,
Splits my rib cage open,
And cover every page of my heart
With poems of love and of heartbreak.

Save me..
May your love,
Burn sonnets into my skin,
As if your hands were made of volcanoes.

Save me...
May your hellos,
Stick to me irrevocably
And may your goodbyes
Feel like explosives.

Save me....
Be my life line , will you?
When you're wit me,
Its like being in a burning building,
Without fire escapes.

Lovely..
Like the sun,
Peaking out of the warm summer sky,
Originating from so much softness,
When nightfall ushers you away,
The horizon mourns your absence,
As I mourn.

Without your mercy,
I will be,
Nothing but a drifting piece of ply wood,
Losing its vigor as it floats,
Directionless on the vast sea,
All because you wont,
Save me.

My fascination of words come from a deep place…
Shards of broken hopelessness,
Discarded in pieces, through metaphors
Seeking life within the lines of poetry.
Wanting to creep out of my soul,
From my veins through my fingertips…

I write for me.
My words are not for humanity…
There won’t be any prophesies scrawled across cave walls
Only fragments of my being,
Refracted in the images I paint on paper,
Printed in blood ink.

My words are release.
There are no pictographs or,
Phenomenon discoveries,
Veiled in my assortment of letters,
Etched in my broken rib cage of fragility…
Printed only out of desperation.

My fascination with words is contingent...
I put in bulks of fleshy bits of insanity,
And I secrete emotions,
Ravaged by war,
Because for some reason,
Pain is equivalent to beauty.

Sometime my words become selfish.
They bombard my mental cavity,
Asking so much of me,
I have to stop in the middle of the street
And write thoughts down
before I lose them.

My words consume me.
I think differently,
I feel differently.
Every sense is heightened in this state.
I lose myself in the worlds I create.
My words are my only escape.

this,
this is what relapse feels like.
sore knees, aching smiles,
bruised shins,
heart's been beating too fast,
afraid to tell mom and dad.
close the door, turn the shower on,
and bow to your master.
shove it down, get it out,
"i'm so tired, **** i'm so tired."
"keep going, keep going,
i promise it'll all be worth it."
my brother is only two rooms away,
but this,
this is the epitome of loneliness.
flush it down, unlock the door,
get out.
and start again.

this,
this is what relapse looks like,
teenage girl with a plastered grin,
this time she's letting everyone in,
maybe she really does have to use the bathroom,
smile, smile, smile, she's full of hate.
"i'm so happy, **** i'm so happy.
recovery is going great."
rip apart the meal plan, swallow nothing but words,
they won't find out this time,
i won't let them find out.
my brother is two rooms away,
but i,
i am the most introverted extrovert.
a master of disguise, pulling the
wool over your eyes.

it's not me, i swear it's not me.
it's not me, i swear it's not me.

i haven't been me in a while.

I love you.
But not in the way it's been rumored that the both of us tend to do.
I love you because you're always there for me.
I love you because when I crash and burn you tell me it'll work out perfectly, just wait and see.
I love you the way I loved my sister before she went away.
I love you the way I would've loved my mother if she'd cared for me in any way.
I don't love you the way I was cruelly fated to love he who hurt you.
I love you the way children do;
Innocently,
Because you're the only one who truly understands me.
When I'm crying,
When I feel like dying,
You tell me I'm strong enough and that I deserve to be happy,
And that you love me.

I wonder if clouds know they're beautiful
When they sit and watch from the the sky

I wonder if they know how dangerous and threatening they are
When thunder cries out

I wonder if they know how they turn colors
When the sun hits them just right

I walk to work wondering if they know

I wish I could live up there with them
I could be puffy and white

And no one would say anything
Because that's how clouds are

I wish I could reflect the sun
But only be full of rain

If I was full of rain
I wouldn't be full of emotion

Clouds don't become angry
Or sad

Clouds don't fall in love
And realize their love wasn't real

I wonder if clouds know how truly breath-taking they are

If I could stay and lay on the grass all day
And watch them

I would

I've driven through clouds once
It was like a dream

I pulled over and felt the fleeting puffs wisp by
I felt the rain wet my skin

I felt the cold penetrate my clothes
I felt the wind tangle my hair

And most of all
I felt the thrill of being in the clouds

I wonder if they thought of me as beautiful
As much as I saw them that way

It's wrong.
That saying
The, "No one can love you until you learn to love yourself."
It's incorrect.
Senseless even.

You don't have to love yourself to have someone do the same.
In fact,
I think it's the people who don't love themselves
Are loved the most.

Others see their hurt
And reach out
Open their hearts

Let feelings of
Concern
Appreciation
Respect
Friendship

Love.
Enter in

The self-loathing one just doesn't know.
Or doesn't want to

They're blind
Eyes covered by a blindfold
Held securely in place by
Doubt
Fear
Hate
Anger
Regret
A past where something
Sometime
Lots of times
Went awry.

They can't trust themselves
Or anyone else because of that.

It's not easy to love someone like this.
It takes
Work
Determination
Persistence
Many different things

Some people will throw in the towel
Say it's too hard
Not worth it
But not everyone

A select few will stick around and love The loveless person
Shower them in appreciation
Cover them with love

So, don't think for
One
Single
Second
That you aren't loved

You are.

By me.
By others.
By God.

And all of us will be here
When you finally remove
The caked on
Mud
Dirt
The blinding debris
From experiences past

We will be here

When you can finally see just what about yourself is worth loving.

Some people have a natural feel for the spotlight,
they know how to handle others focusing on them.
Then there are countless people that are more content
in fading to the back, allowing others to shine.
For we are the forgotten sons and daughters,
sacrificing our sunshine to help more prominent flowers flourish.
At least, that's how I deceived myself.
Instead of just being okay with fading,
somehow that was all I did.
As I sit on my throne of shadows, without a speck of light
near me, no one else around, I question if it was all worth it.
If  labeling myself "forgotten" to give everyone else
an opportunity to glimmer in this world,
was as selfless as I try to make it sound, or just how life is.
The fade is a slow process, but a constant as well.
At this very moment, less and less of me remains,
I can only speculate what happens when I'm all gone.
Then, I truly will be forgotten.