in the grand scheme of things, he’s the trees and I’m the river and the stones are always, always covered in blood

2. he keeps looking at me over his shoulder and I don’t know if it’s because he knows I’m lying or if he’s checking to see that I’m still alive

3. he told me I was a god, some free and ruthless and holy thing and I told him he was the sun and we’re both waiting on the test results to see who won

4. he smiles like an animal, too much teeth, gapped and bleeding, too much dirt stuck to his gums, lips sticky and eyes burning holes into me

5. I never thought I’d be afraid of the way the light hits the earth, quietly and all at once, but I am and it feels like I should be on my knees and praying to something I know doesn’t exist for me

6. in the grand scheme of things, neither of us is a bird or fragile or something precious to hold onto, and both of us know this, which makes it worse

7. he isn’t some winged holy thing

8. he hung the stars and told me how lovely I was in the lighting

9. he put a gun in his mouth until I could taste the sting of it, metal coating my insides, until I was the one bleeding iron bullets

10. he handed me his plastinated heart and told me to swallow it whole so I did

11. he said a lot of things and I mostly don’t remember them because I was too busy knitting us together at the seams of our broken bones, two skeletons in the same grave, some kind of poetic fate

12. or, that’s how I’ll say it happened

I used to admire Van Gogh for how lovely he could make simple sunflowers look,
But then I saw you,
and I wonder how jealous Van Gogh would be of your beauty.

The most beautiful day I have ever known is not the day we first kissed,
Nor the day you first said that you loved me.
It was the day that you said three different words.
That night in your old bedroom when you told me I was the one.
I had never known what it was like to be so happy that I'd cry,
Until that day.

I will not compare thee to a summer's day,
but I'll compare the day to you
Every night without you I'll shiver because no amount of warmth will compare to feeling of having you lay down next to me.

You're the "he" in all of the writings,
and the reason why I write at all these days.
You're in every song I hear
and every movie I see.
You're the one who keeps me up till 1 a.m in the middle of the week because I was thinking of writing this very poem for you.
You're the reason why I finally understand why I never died when I attempted suicide,
and I'll keep you in mind every time I am able to eat without worrying about the calorie count.
You're the reason why I know why people cry from happiness,
You're the only reason why I can picture a future for myself, and that future is with you.
I'll stare into you're eyes for hours,  comparing them to the coffee I drink every morning,
and wake every morning waiting till the day you are there.
I'll lay in your arms and dream of the day when goodbye's won't last for months at a time.
When my home is your home as well,
and when all the distance is nonexistent.
To when I can see your smile in more than just a picture,
To when goodnight kisses turn into good morning kisses.
To when you can hold me at night if I start having panic attacks again,
and to when you can remind me to eat dinner when I forget.

They say that if a writer falls in love with you, you can never die.
Yet I feel it is the same for writers themselves.
Falling in love can be the inspiration behind works of art.
Your love is the very reason why I breathe,
and the motivation behind every stroke of my paint brush,
and every word I type or write.

You will be the "he" in all my writings,
& I'll spend days comparing you to things in nature.

& spend hours trying to figure out exactly what shade of brown your eyes are.
I'll wake up thinking if your morning was bright, just like your smile.
   Falling
          Falling
                  Falling
How is it that you're in every love song I hear?
& Every novel, poem and movie

You can make the sun seem sunnier,
Colors seem brighter

Being with you is like living in a constant state of euphoria,
and without you is endless.

I remember the moment I fell in love with you
& the moment that I knew you were the one.
            Thank you for letting me be the one too.

pretty pretty girl
all wrapped up in pretty pretty ribbon
like a gift

an object

wrapped like an object
stuck in a pretty pretty box
a pretty pink box
dance on your tippy toes
raise higher
higher
higher, darling
break your pretty pretty pink toenails

i want to hear the snap your bones make when you bend backwards trying to please the people all roughly wrapped in blue

pretty pretty boy
all wrapped in pretty pretty ribbon
can you hear the whistles?
can you?

that high pitched squeal that shatters your ear drum
it beats like the bang of a drum
march, soldier
march

open your pretty pretty eyes
all sewn shut

shove purple paint down your own throat if it helps you

pretty pretty pretty girl
pretty pretty pretty boy

pretty pretty people don't exist

i was born with a sickness that dripped from ***** blood bag
she was born with gold ribbons tying her skin together
i wish i could have pulled a little harder
unraveled her from the outside in


she said i was small and insignificant


i told her to water me
give me incisors
sharpen them like the knives in my kitchen drawer
you won't recognize her  


can you drown in the forced love of yourself?

i love me i love me i love me i love me i love me

is that why i can't dig up the old roots that she buried inside my chest?
i am filled to the brim with artificial self love
where does the love for other people fit inside?
im a broken puzzle piece that only fits inside itself
i thought i had found all my pieces but really
it was an ampersand
trying to make a bridge to cross from one life to another
smooth sailing


oh mother

oh father

you created something that looks like how scratches on a chalkboard sound
i am
so
so

sorry

It's been a year since I had a drink,
but three months since I had a cigarette

Each day I feel myself slowly fading away,
and I am scared I'll end up slipping back into my old ways.

The panic attacks at night come back,
and all I need is a way to rant.

I turn the music on full volume,
because I need something louder than the voices in my head.

I stare at my bedroom walls till past 2a.m on a school night,
I blame insomnia, but my mind is the reason why.

I can't stop myself from thinking back to when I actually slept at night,
and when my hands didn't shake all day long,

I feel like I am just a pair of eyes,
watching as the world goes by.

I am just a bystander,
while everyone keeps moving.

I started to feel nothing again,
letting things go on while I stood still.

I constantly always heard the cliche saying that nothing lasts forever and eventually all things come to an end. For so long I never cared and in the past I didn’t care about anything that happened to or around me, I was simply living like a bystander and I was nothing more than a pair of eyes watching things come and go. Even when my grandmother died, I was always told that “everybody dies in the end” and that made me wonder why all of this matters. Why do we try so hard when in the grand scheme of things, we’re all going to end up just a memory to those we left our mark on, and even memories fade. I asked myself this question for quite a long time and even now I think about it, an answer that I have yet to fully give myself. It took a long time before I realized that the point is to leave those marks. I read a book about a year ago that made me come to this realization and start to appreciate the fact that while I am alive, I should focus on living instead of dying. The book made me understand that we all leave a mark on this world and some people spend years trying to find what they really want. I don't want to just be content. I don’t have my memories rush back to me as I still fear dying . I don’t want realized I never actually lived.  Filled with every mistake and missed opportunity. I don’t want to regret not following my dreams because the fear of death murdered me before I was even old enough to drive.