Don't give me a razor
as a 'gift'
and expect me not to use it

I don’t want
I love you
To turn into
A common commodity
An overused expression
Of sorry.

he used to be my everything
bright like summer rain
he has a new girl now and
things just aren’t the same

she says that she loves him
utterly and truely she swore
and it hurts to watch him love her
as if it wasn’t you before

...

i still get cravings when i'm happy

...

She is the ocean
Between two warring islands
Not involved in the conflict, yet
Most of the gunfire hit the water
Belongs to both, yet
Neither shall pick up the white flag
To save the ocean from drowning herself
Polluted and corrupted, yet
The perceived saviours are really just pirates
On little boats, but who dares cross the sea.
Can't you see that she's damaged enough?
Real saviours offer no solution,
Offer no ignorant reaffirmations of
It'll all be fine, because
They know that forcing the sunlight onto the sea
Will only burn her, yet
A slow shed of light shall warm her.
I am the ocean
Between two warring islands.
And my soul is lost at sea.

there are days
where all i want
is to be wrapped up
in your bedsheets
with you

anklets and
bloodlust
what an unsettling concept

i miss him
           not like
                  when you lose someone close to you  
but like
       when the last petal falls from the last rose
                  when you know spring is over
                              and you wished you'd played in the rain a little more

You drink to forget
I drink to remember

I get mad at you and it feels like storms brewing inside me
But you are not the cause
Merely an attempt at a sweet remedy
Sit still and wonder.
Know that I miss you and I’m not sure how
Or what to do with these emotions see I haven’t felt
Anything
In quite a while and this, well this is a tsunami when I’d hoped to start with just a
Wave.
Of clarity the storm clouds I wished would clear became stronger because now
Now
I can feel but it means I can feel sadness and regret and hurt and anxiety and missing you.
A lot stronger than
Before.
Know that I love you and what is more than that is that  
I feel that too now.
You make me feel alive but being alive does not just mean happy please
Please
Try and understand the madness and if you cannot please
Try and accept it.
For I want nothing more than to love you with this fire in my belly rather than be angry
Mad
Hurt at words you aren’t saying
Keep me at bay.
Keep me still.
Keep me calm.
You are my remedy
And being away is giving my time to think and see how ******* blessed I am and then
Then
I get mad and how
How can I treat this one this special one like he
Should know me when it’s been months
Of course he doesn’t.
At least he wants to learn.
Learn me each and every crevice in my mind every little loop of despair
And I wonder to myself now;
If I asked him what colour I loved
Would he know the answer?
Being away from you is hard when service means a shoddy good morning text at noon; a photo is a “look where I am today” and a call comes from the ****** phone box that takes my golden coins
But ******* I need your voice more than wealth so
I
Miss
You
And I don’t know how to comprehend it but my instinct is to push you as far away as I can stomach
So I can stop missing you
Quite so much.
So believe me when I say misplaced emotion betrays me and I’m sorry
I’m sorry
I’m trying  
I love you.
More than you know.

i can't help but be disgusted
the way you used to place your hands on my body
i was so young
so innocent
doing things little girls shouldn't
seeing things little girls shouldn't
and it stays with me
even now

It has become customary to press a blade to the inside of my left wrist when she tells me I am worthless.

I ache for the blood to seep from my damaged skin, pumped through my body from my damaged heart.

I sit in silence and wait; for him to come in and comfort me, to show me care and compassion, but he doesn’t.
Not anymore.

It’s hours.

I made a plan in seventh grade that the anklet would stop the burn of silver.

Anklets break.
Promises break.
It all becomes okay.

After the death of my grandmother, the last time I thought I would do it, I found a red string.

Tied it around my ankle.

Promised myself I would never do it whilst it was on.

But bad days exist.
And so do scissors.

And everlasting stress that never leaves and an easy way to feel without feeling.

Blood bubbles when it seeps through the gaps in your skin.

And it hurts but what hurts more is the ache in your chest when she tells you
you're stupid
             you don't respect me
                        you owe use
                                    we own you
                                                I want to hit you
                                                            c­hange your attitude, girl
                                                            ­            Watch out
                                                             ­                       Obey me
                                                              ­                                                             I AM YOUR MOTHER  

as if mother, was a synonym for god.

Guilt and hurt and god how did I end up here again?

It's knowing the answer.

Its knowing blame is bad and modesty is good and pain is for the ones who love but love is for the ones who are free from pain.

It's having to keep silent because asking for support is like giving her another bullet
            another thing to say
                        another reason to want to die

And when you pick your own crying body up off the floor, bruises from biting and pinching and hitting and clumps of hair and tissues of blood,

It's being alone.  

Its the eerie silence that follows.

It's concealer on wrists. It's looking down to avoid eye contact. Its wishing someone would ******* notice.

it's structured loneliness.

it's the skills you had to learn all alone.

It's fighting for breath, not knowing whether to stop or breathe.

It's about helping others

                                                               ­         before ever helping yourself

It's being called worthless at the bottom of bad days

It's your own problems magnified because you don't hide them well enough

                                    It's hurting
                                                                ­       and I want it to stop

I write as the blade is pressed to my wrist once again.

im angry.

i have no right to be.

but im stressed and im scared and im alone and im worried
about you
i should be worried about my exams pushing myself to the very breaking point breaking down breaking through
alas i spend my hours in an exhausted mess trying to think of how
how
how to fix you.
and im angry.
because you give advice you dont take
we all do
and im angry
because as much as i try
to put pieces together and be there for you and give you space and fix your problems and be your escape
i cant
not like you need me to
maybe we dont fit
maybe i cant cope with your stress outs and maybe you get sick of my constant sadness and maybe one day one of us will just get up and leave.
and this time not come back.
see i love you like an addiction but i see how you'll ruin me
i see how much detoxing from you is going to **** me
you will **** me
and i cant get the image of you leaving out of my head and im angry

because 'please baby' wont appease you
'stay' wont make you
'i love you' wont mean anything to you

im scared of you and im angry
im scared of you
and what you do to me
because who else could make me fall half as fast but twice as hard as the last?
who else can set me on fire yet provide the ******* salvation
im scared of you
im scared youll break me

and maybe heartaches meant to
but thing is i think you can walk away unfuckingscathed and oh **** baby
that makes me angry.

i say fix you like its a problem about you but its not about you its about your situation but thing is the way i see the word fix ?
youll push me further and further away
you warned me
so i cant be angry
but how far can i be pushed before i walk away
defeated
you warned me
and i can promise to be your saviour but im not sure
how
and that makes me angry
i want to be your saviour
and the truth is no matter how far you push me ill always always be there when you come back
no matter if were not together
if its 10 years down the track and i barely remember your name but i remember your lips and the marks you left on me and the words you said and the way you make me feel and how much my heart jumps when you look at me and how much i love you

how much i love you

thats the thing

im angry because i care
im angry because im scared
because i love you
and ive never loved someone like i love you
so when i say im angry
i mean
please dont leave.

Ill sink into you
not because you asked me to
not because i let go of myself

ill sink into you because i want to
and i need to
i need you

you touch me
like a child
eyes bright

i play the same melancholy songs
that I do when we fight
sit with my legs crossed
or pace in the pretty light

i don't want to be the wounded wife
the small smile sly im fine
i look in the mirror to see her
smiling back at me, she tells me
its fine
you learn to swallow the pain
instead of fighting back

i loathe my fight
the roar of my emotions unchained
but without it
i look empty
devoid of emotion and passion

is that what I'm destined for?
stuck with a man grey,
structured, solid, un-movable
when i'm expressive as the sky
in all her beauty

how do I breathe when we are so different
I crumble while you stand tall and fine
even if you did crumble you wouldn't want me there
a signature of we
are not a team

i could send you my words
explain to you through them
how i feel
the way i do best
but you'd be just as blank
just as confused

so maybe
i swallow my hurt
give a small smile
and say im fine

The place between your arms is where I belong
Falling asleep to some stupid cliched love song
We laugh, grin, then share a small kiss
A small free kiss in the dark.

The place between your arms is where I belong
I say I don't feel pretty and you strive to prove me wrong
Point out the pieces of me you say are perfect
And baby for you that's all of me.

The place between your arms is where I belong
That for thy right myself will bear all wrong.
We make love and poetry all in the same ways
For love with us is everything to me.

There are no words no expression clear
To express my love for you, my dear
So hold true the pieces of my heart
And so will I, my dear sweetheart.

Friday's at yours are special to me
Whether we're going out to the theatre
Whether we stay in to watch movies
Friday's at yours are special to me
It always starts with tea and ends with a kiss
and theres always a cuddle or three
Friday's at yours are special to me
You are my stormboy
You are my light
Friday's at yours are special to me
You are all my favourite love songs
You are the epitome of safety and fearless
Friday's at yours are special to me
Curled up, no matter where we go
In your arms safe and calm and happy and
free.
Friday's at yours are special to me
We laugh and kiss and look and love
We discover new things about each other.
Friday's at yours are special to me
you play with my hair and I scratch your back
and we kiss like nobody else exists
Friday's at yours are special to me
you walk me out in just your socks,
kiss me tenderly,
wave goodbye.
Friday's at yours are special to me
Going home, leaving you alone in your room
kills me. all I wish is to fall asleep in your arms and
not have to wake up
alone
Friday's at yours are special to me
i get home and we're still talking
talk until we fall asleep
alone
but happy
Friday's at yours are special to me

I doubt you’ll read this and call.
But call anyway.
Don’t say anything.
Just call.
I dont know whether to delete your number or keep the hope that we’re still alive in your heart.

I wanted you to be the one
But for now we can’t have that
Everlooming fights and
grasps for attention
We aren’t “us” anymore
Im not “me” anymore
and we need to find that again

Right now you cant love me and I cant love you

but maybe one day..

“You’ve almost been ***** twice now!”
As if
It is an indication
Of my strength

and lack of it.

She asks how i do it.
How i love you with such a
fierosity
but also such an 'i dont care' tainted calm

I tell her its nothing
nothing of experience and
nothing of being 'prepared'
not something you learn from a book
but something you learn from love.

i love him with such a fire in my heart
that sometimes i choke in the smoke
and it leaves me breathless

when he runs his fingers up my thigh and
kisses me slowly
teasing me,
tainting my lips with the fresh taste of
strawberries and mint.

a fire brews in my belly
and as my eyes roll to the back of my brain
lulled in ecstacy and desire
and never quite being able to pull him close enough
to be satisfied

when i look in his eyes and see
passion
raw
*******
passion
as we make eachother lose ourselves
between the bedsheets we play between

when he texts me
how much he needs me
my lips
my hips
between his arms
in a dim winter morning
my heart skips a beat and the thought
of him
plagues my mind all ******* day.

i love him like a fire that is not phased by
rain
or tears
in fact we love stronger through it all.
for if i am gasoline he is the spark
that ignites us
and leaves us burning through the night.

but i love him calm too
calm like safety
a boat softly rocking on the horizon
under a starry night
where the moon shines for you
for me
for an us we indulge ourselves in

what we cant seem to accept
is the sheer fact of
we deserve this.
we
are
deserving
of
this
love

and what matters not is
how
or where
but ask away my love because i love feeling
like you cant believe how
******* ******* lucky we are
to have found a home
in such a broken place

i love him calm because
he fills the spaces of me
i believed would stay empty
but **** it feels good
to feel closer to whole

i love him calm because i know
i dont overwhelm him
as much as i overwhelm myself

i love him calm because
he is human
and deserving of everything
happy and free
and maybe
maybe
i can be that

loving him calm isnt about not caring
its not about the
'he can wait for now, im with you'
as its not out of care
its out of a pact to stay more in the moment
and i know he understands

he brings a calm to my chaos

he hasnt seen the best of me
but i love him calm because he
holds me close when i need him
and when i dont
and when i call him falling apart
he answers
tells me to stop apologising
reaches through the line to dry
the tears
cascading down my freckled cheek.

i love him calm because i
dont need to fight for his affection
or love
or attention
i love him calm because when i need
a break from those things
he does his best  

we're a fire and an ocean
we are the sum of the sun and sky
and we are both the thunder that rocks the earth
and the lightning that burns the sky bright

and i wouldnt change it for the world

I’ve always written poetry,
Ever since I was little
Little Shannon writing lyrics to love songs when ****,
She didn’t even know love yet.

I wonder if anyone’s figured it out
two unconnected poetry accounts on the same site
Look closer and you’ll read the tale of our love
Poems written at the same times
Watch us unfold
Without knowing when we started where we’d end up

So take a look
Look back
Craft the timeline of our falling in love
and of the out
When we started losing ourselves and stopped writing
When we swear we fell apart,
but didn’t.
Then really did.

Craft the timeline of our words.
We are but words here.

Maybe one day we can write poetry again.
Maybe one day it won’t hurt this bad.

My baby.
You’re wondering about the type of women you want to be. It’s a sad and soggy Sunday and you sit by the railing while it’s raining and the wind sighs at your presence.
You long for love, and peace, and mystery and excitement and you long to be wanted for who you are not who you could be if you were small.

My baby.
Everything you want isn’t everything you see.
Damaged isn’t pretty, my baby and maybe it looks it but the pain, oh baby the pain is like nothing you’ve ever felt.
And maybe you crave the mystery, maybe you crave the smudges mascara and the hunger pains.
But honest to truth my baby
Being this ****** up ain’t cute
Being this ****** up isn’t safe.
Being this ****** up makes you wonder what in the world is.

My baby there is nothing like the ache of being empty,
The sad and solemn nothing, the pitiless void that seldom empties but when it does you put stars in his eyes for he is the only other person with the key.
And a lot of the time the key doesn’t fit your locks,
The walls you’ve put up are brick.
Solid.
And for every brick you stack he takes one away, eager to pull them down he tries and baby one day you might stop building.
Maybe it’ll be on a soft and sunny Saturday when both of you are laughing and you see it within him.
You’ll stop building and he’ll smile knowing that
Yes.
Finally.
Free.

My baby your walls are thick and strong,
Most of the time,
Sometimes they fall but you pick them up and rebuild don’t let anyone see the truth.
He knows.

My baby the boy you love will never quiet fill your cup and it’ll break you but it’s not his job to.
You have to try too.
Because baby I know you hurt and I know you just want out of the cruel ******* world but now no.
Now you have someone to love you.
To love you for who you are and not who you would be if you were small.
Someone who loves you so that to go would be to take a piece of him with you.
Maybe that piece is the spark you fell in love with.
Baby no now you have someone to live for.

My baby I know you think smudged mascara and running away is desirable and makes them want more but baby.
On the good days you feel like a well oiled machine, task after task focus, seem well act well everybody laughs, smooth machine yet still lack the basic humanity that should consume you.

My baby on the bad days, broken down, some days you manage to trudge your way out of bed and into the daytime, empty but there,
Worse, the days where you can’t get up. Where you open the window and stare out into the garden you’ve always seen and you let the sadness and elusive sleepiness win until you’re exhausted with sleep.
Days where blades help you feel and help the anger inside you escape when the blood bubbles through your torn skin.

My baby the overthinking will drive you crazy, where the concept of an ear is weird even when he whispers sweet nothings into them and tucks that little stray piece of hair behind them.
Where *** is a mechanism by which sounds so wrong but feels so right but baby do not use it to cure the sadness.
It will always win.  

My baby home is haunting.
The ghosts of who you used to be haunt you, taunt you, and the love you used to feel is gone. Home isn’t home. Home is a house in the hillside.
Home is the space between his arms where your head rests against his chest and he breathes in to smell the coconut in your hair, home is the way he stares at you and smiles, home is the way he plays video games with you in his lap, home is his dilated pupils, home is the weird way you hold hands on the train, home is short jokes and home is when he looks at you as if you
You
You my baby
Are just absolutely spectacular
Even when you feel like a fleck of dust on this pointless world.

My baby though he is home, mental illness and distress isn’t pretty.
Panic attacks and ugly crying in public isn’t pretty. The disability of breathing isn’t pretty. Being perched over a toilet bowl isn’t pretty. Not eating for days isn’t pretty. Pulling out clumps of hair isn’t pretty. Being clumsy because you are so anaemic isn’t pretty. Passing out isn’t pretty. Wrist scars and bloodstained sheets aren’t pretty.
Being sick isn’t pretty.

Baby I wish we’d stopped when we knew.

Baby I wish help meant something because though you’ve tried,
Nothing gets through.

Baby when it rains it pours, and through every storm I have you, my hand is there to hold.
So we’ll call Noah’s arc and we’ll start a new world.
I know you’re hurting.
But my baby I promise one day we’ll be safe.
No longer shipwrecked.
My baby one day
One day
We’ll be free.

Let me be your phone a friend
When you feel like you're going to lose
Yourself

i steal your shirt that i know you didn't wash
just for me.
i wear your shirt and it turns into the embodiment of safety  
and i wear it to sleep in your bed;
and takes me back to that safe place when i am alone in my own.
i steal your shirt for the smell and the feel
the knowing that its touched your skin now mine
the smell, oh
the smell puts me to sleep faster than the pills do
and the love.
love in each and every fibre.
I sit here with the fabric pressed against my nose
breathing it in
breathing you in
because although you are not here
when i need you
you are here

who knew fabric could smell so sweet.

Fourteen never tasted you
But I still need you like a crutch
Like something to keep me afloat when I feel like
I'm drowning

You see, the pretty, skinny girls
The ones who are allowed to fall apart
Pieces of you they exhale
Leave a solemn marker on this saddened planet.

You see, pretty skinny girls
The ones who suit anorexia so **** well
Wear a pretty shade of starving
And cry themselves to sleep within stark hospital walls

You see, pretty skinny girls
The ones who don't take up any space
Praised for their alternative music and long socks because
Hey.
At least they're alive.

Do you see how different we are.
We are the freedom seekers who never get justice
We are the ones that got left behind
We are the ones who's diagnosis didnt fit
Simply because our numbers didnt
Into the category of deathly

I need you like a crutch
Because nothing I have
and nothing I am
Quite equates to their criteria of needing help.
No matter how quietly i whisper to you under bedsheets
Or scream it out to my father, those three words
That are already hard enough to ******* admit
no
no.
They are still.
Still.
Not enough for you.

I need help.

Fourteen learned to roll cigarettes when she was seven
But made an oath to herself of never ever
but now she needs a salvation

It's like I've been fighting the ocean for long enough
Finally decided c i cant fight alone anymore
Yet the lifeguards only saved the one who was visible in the sea
Oblivious to the fact fourteen was on the brink
Of drowning in her own tears.

Fourteen looks up to the sky and counts the stars
Like marlboro lights she counts the flamed atmosphere
Wondering how life could get worse than this.
And she waits for something to come
something to save her
A helping hand or a speeding car
Lying in the middle of the road often carried that risk.


She's in love with him and its a ******* tragedy
She doesnt know if shes too much for him or not enough
She's being abused and its a ******* tragedy
She doesnt know if the bruises shes acquiring are just in her head
She's losing touch with her friends and its a ******* tragedy
She knows they arent paying attention.

So what more can she do
But dream of feeding herself to the ocean
A current in place of a current affair and
A slow and fulfulling peace.

Fourteen stares at the sky with the
soft ripples of sand beneath her feet
counts the stars like marlboro lights
takes a breath, and gives herself  
One
more
chance

You make me feel
and want to be
alive

we talked
last night
a **** pastime of a conversation
where new things were discovered.
maybe we're okay in the night time
just as we are as day.
maybe i'm not crazy.

but your descriptions set me on fire.

I am lulled by your ecstasy
and your desire

                                            Hold me close.
    


                                                                        before i shatter

and i put my phone in aeroplane mode
so i dont hear it when you dont call.
is that selfishness
or self protection.

I’m hurt
But always from the point of my own sword
The problems cease to fade however skin unscathed leaves me unfulfilled.
I am a disease to my own mind,
Falling deeper into this depression, not falling, walking, I have the power to change direction but don’t know how.
Happy is threatening.
Happy is unsafe.
Happy has never been safe.
Happy means danger is hiding around the corner and if something else doesn’t cause it then it must be thine wounds that cause another’s.
Unhappy in love yet I am perpetually the problem. An outsider sabotaging the loveliness, a few days apart and suddenly a knife is drawn at the throat of an undeserving victim.
Because happy was never good enough for me.
Empty and jarring and sad and sorry and a passenger to the being who wreaks havoc and distraction, the builder of walls and the entity that pulls, no, snaps the strings holding my heart together until the final
Snap
He won’t get angry
He won’t budge
In efforts of sanity and peace he lays down and takes your anger and your resentment though most belongs directed straight at you
And he doesnt say a word.
Takes your bullets and your dagger and your sword and doesn’t breathe a word of anger. Not one of discontent.
Envy and anger and black putrid feelings ebb out of my skin and touch him yet he is not the rightful barer of my wrath
I am.
The sole disaster belongs to me.
I bring the storm to the bright days.
I bring the hail to perfectly smooth bumpers.
I bring the underworld to heaven just because it’s never quite enough to keep me full.
Empty and empty and empty.
The tin man’s cries have yet to reach the emerald kingdom.
And I have yet to find my peace.

i just wanna make you so **** happy
you cant help but show me off to the world

i just wanna make you need me so
you kiss me like the oxygen you need

i just wanna make you love me
like im the only one for you.

Paint me like stars
And I will shine for you.

Hi.
You know better than anyone that I hate to be a coward
But I also hate confrontation.
You see I don’t see this conversation being any better face to face.
And after all, you know me better than most,
Better than everyone really
So you know this isn’t easy for me.
We’ve been through a lot together. Some good ups, some horrific downs.
But I think I’m done.
I can’t do this to myself anymore.
I can’t keep sacrificing myself and my happiness for you.
I can’t keep breaking down because of something you’ve said
Things you’ve made me do
You’ve worn me down, let me lean on you through my darkest times.
But I think I’m strong enough now to stand on my own two feet. I think I’m strong enough to let you go, to remove you from my life, for a better me.
We’ve been together so long now that you’re inhibited a steady portion of my life, but I just, I don’t think I can be this unhappy anymore.
So I’m letting you go. Setting you free. I can’t be what you need and I’m sorry.
I’ve slept in your bed of regrets and I’m ready to wake up
This is hard for me. I never thought I’d get to this place but I’m here and you can’t be here with me.
I’m not happy and I’m sorry
I don’t love you and I’m sorry
I never have

I'm tired.


and I don't mean the tired of slippery fingers and prominent yawns

I'm tired of life

I'm tired of living without a pulse my blood
running cold and
mechanical the light in my eyes no longer
there.

The blood
that runs through my veins is thin
slippery like the oil that makes the wheels
spin
without the squeak.  

I see the world as a machine
cogs turning well-oiled nobody asks you whats
wrong
outside its fine
inside the storm brews
and I'm so tired of love songs that never
explain how angry
and sad
you can be when you're in love

and how your anger isn't caused by
him
at all
yet why can't I accept that.

im jealous and im sad
that he doesn't care enough to ask why
work through it as i would him
there are certain things he doesn't
get

but since when were you easy

its not his job to know you like the back
of your scarred hands
or to make your eyes blue
they've been grey for months.  

feeling a bit Billie blue
the days get darker and yet
his reassurance does nothing but
make me fear the burden that grows with each
kiss why did i let him fall for me
why did i let him make that sacrifice
maybe its better to leave him maybe he has a chance
at happy where im not there
god knows I don't make him happy anymore.
i cant even make me happy anymore

im tired of not knowing how to love you right.
im tired of being upset.
im tired of being angry
im tired of living in your shadow
im tired of not being good enough for you
im tired of being your burden
im tired of being tired

so listen before i go

it was never you.