Warm bed.
Suffocation.

Lukewarm water.
Drowning.

Dishes upon dishes are stacked.
Tumbling.

Down.
Down.
Down.
Down.

Another day, another relative in the grave.
Salty tears can't turn back time.

I never caressed, I never cared.
But I did care.

Wet pillow.
Drying.

Cry.
Cry.
Cry.
Cry.

Take a watch and turn back time.
Where would you like to go?

Go back to everybody you forgot existed?
Or maybe spend more time with the people you didn't?

Help out your family more often?
Because you never did so before.

Never.
Never.
Never.
Never.

You can't go back, you know that right?
Why are you crying?

They're dead, they all are.
It's over now, forget it.

No matter how many times you say it, it's meaningless.
"Sorry."

Magenta lights flashing through my window.
Muffled groans and cries echo from my pillow.

Humid air, kicking off sheets.
I can hear cars driving on the streets.

Birds singing happily in the night sky.
I sink into the bath and begin to cry.

Lavender scent, filling the air.
Scrubbing my body, my body is bare.

Red marks wherever I scrub.
Slowly but surely red drips into the tub.

No matter how hard, how rough I've been.
I know it in my heart, I'll never be clean.

Small, silver tool on top of the sink.
It all happened so fast, happened in a blink.

Submerged in the water I breathe.
Across my flesh, I feel the metal sheathe.

The water is now red.
It shows how much I've bled.

I tilt my head back and look out the glass.
I can see the sunrise, bright green grass.

Birds are singing outside cheerily.
I close my eyes and exhale drearily.

Bathing in crimson, my heart starts to sink.
The only thought I have is what my mother will think.

Addiction.
It's a filthy word that taints your tongue.
I'm not a normal addict.
I'm not addicted to beer, or to regular drugs.

The only drug that fulfils my desires.
Is you.

You are my drug.
You fill my head with morphine.
You take away my pain.
But when I wake up in the morning I feel sick.

I take you every night.
You've helped me in ways you don't even know about.
Even though I can't swallow you whole.
I can break you and take you piece by piece.

No matter how I devour you.
You always help me.
I taste the bitterness on my tongue.
But a cool sensation spreads to my head.

Being in love is a powerful thing.
Addictive?
Yes.
But you?

You're a chemical.
You make up my bright side.
You make up my best days.
You make me feel numb when I bleed.

I was never one for drugs.
But when it comes to love.
I dove in head first.

White room.
In the centre of it all, an overflowing bathtub, with lilies floating atop.
It's a beautiful, yet, unsettling sight.
The water continues to flow, drawing me in closer.

I cautiously dip my hand in.
The water is cold and ***** me in.
It's a blue place, shrouded in darkness.
Lilies float past me, but I am paralysed where I lay.

I close my eyes and breathe.
It's suffocating.
Where are you?
I'm cold.

When I open my eyes again, I'm in the same white room.
In the centre of it all, a piercing red chair.
It's ominous, but it draws me closer.
I breathe a little easier.

I sit down, my head in my hands.
I close my eyes.
It's hot, I'm sweaty, burning.
I open my eyes to the sight of fire, surrounding me all around.

I hitch my breathing.
It's suffocating.
Where are you?
I'm hot.

I open my eyes one last time.
A black room, with a photo of you.
You're smiling a goofy smile, just like you.
I trace the frame, remembering the past.

This eternal torture isn't too bad.
I get to see you every night.
But when I wake up you will be gone.
And back to torture where I belong.

Chocolate coloured eyes.
Mesmerise me every time.
Your cherry red lips.
Your moonlight glow.

Everything about you makes my heart swell.
It's twice as big.
I can feel it pound.
Every beat resonating.

Is this a teenage dream?
You make me so warm inside.
My face goes red.
And that's only when we talk.

Even though we're worlds apart.
I can feel you near me.
The sky we see is not the same.
But that's okay.

I can take a white rocket.
Go wherever you are.
The clouds and stars in the sky.
Are nothing compared to the beauty you are.

Every time you smile, a love song plays.
You do something crazy to me.
I try to hide what I feel.
But I can't whenever I'm with you.

I don't usually write poems.
Not for other people, at least.
But for you, I'll write these words.
My soul imprinted on your screen.

You mean so much to me.
Calling me something tame like "Cutie" kills me.
Do you not realise how much power you have?
You're the reason I wake up in the morning.

The seasons will change.
But my love will stay the same.
My feelings haven't lingered this long before.
So just read these words before I forget how to say them.

You've got my eyes.
Captured my heart.

As if a love deity chose you for me.

You always lie.
But I cover it up.

You always cry.
But I cover it up.

Your lips drip red with all the things you spew.

You've got my eyes.
Captured my heart.

As if all the stars in the sky pointed to you.

You always hide.
But I cover it up.


You're always blind.
But I cover it up.

Lungs filled to the brim with lies.

You've got my eyes.
Captured my heart.

My entire being is owned by you.

You always lie.
But I cover it up.

You always cry.
But I cover it up.

Choking on your lies, burning from the inside.

You don't have to say
"I love you."

Because when you take a kiss from me.
It's just us filling this landscape.

Colouring the outlines of a dull world.
In bright pastels.

Our entire life is one big memory.
Reliving our love over and over.

Please rely on me a little more.
Don't go crying in a split second.

You don't have to say
"I love you."

Because when you take a kiss from me.
It's just us filling this landscape.

A dream world that consists of only us.
This world is a story about us.

Please don't leave me.
Where did you even go?

Life flashes before our eyes.
Running by so fast.
So I press pause.
And rewind back to the start.

You don't have to say
"I love you."

Because when I hear it I go cold.
It's only us.

I never want to wake up.
From this dream-like escape.

Don't take me from your warmth.
Close the blinds - the suns too bright.

Give me five more minutes, please.

Empty bathtub.
Where you and I sit.

The memories that were once ours.
Now stain the mirror in blue.

Slow dancing into an embrace.
Leaving marks on your neck.

No matter how much we touch.
I can never fill the gap.

How can you bathe without water?
We sit - exposed.

You kick me for something I did.
I light up a cigarette.

Screaming in my ear.
Something about cheating.

I pop open a bottle of whiskey.
And pour it in the bathtub.

You ask to break up.
You found another man.

When you leave I can finally breathe.
I stretch in the bath.

It feels a little empty.
I pour more *****.

So many people.
Have been bathed with me.

None with water.
None pleasantly.

Still, even now.
Every body reminds me of you.

I remember your smile.
Your smell.

I’m tired of this by now.
So I lie down in the bath.

And let it overflow.

The people talked to you again today.
You said they made fun of your body.
The only thing in your eyes was humiliation.
You told me they make you feel ugly.

But baby, I know you don't see what I do.
Because anything that is beautiful.
People want to break.
Unfortunately, you are beautiful.

You told me that you're ashamed of your body.
They said you're disgusting.
They told you that you were fat and unworthy.
But I'll love you no matter what form you take.

But baby, I know you don't see what I do.
Because anything that is beautiful.
People want to break.
Unfortunately, you are beautiful.

You need to realise one of these days.
The body you have.
Is the perfect one to me.
You are beautiful.

It's hard for me to focus.

I don't hate the work.
I want to do it.
But I can't focus.

I fidget.
With my books.
With my pens.

It's not my fault.

I was always blamed.
I didn't try "hard enough."
I didn't "care enough."

I do care.
I do try.
But it's hard.

I'm really trying.
Please believe me.

I trusted you.
You came into my dark life.
Brightening up the world.
Like throwing open curtains.

You tinted my world a pastel pink.
Every word you spoke to me.
Was like music to my ears.
Was it like that for you?

But when I turned around, it was all dark again.
You were the stage-light, casting the play.
Making me happy every single day.
You turned my stomach, made my heart flutter.

I never knew love was so bitter.
I trusted you.

I know you didn't love me.
But I was alright with that.
I knew you liked someone else.
But I was alright with that.

I know you hurt my friends.
I'm not alright with that.
You played with my heart every single day.
What the **** were you doing?

This isn't a play.

You knew about my feelings.
You said it was alright.
But you kept drawing me closer.
Like a moth to a light.

I know what you did.
You hurt everyone.
Stop beating around the bush.
Take the blame.

My heart aches writing these words.
I thought you were different.
That my voice was heard.
It went in one ear and out the next.

My heart sinks deeper into my chest.
Wet eyes and shaking lips.
My knuckles are sore.
I need a rest.

I tolerated you.
Loved you.
And this is what you do?
**** up everyone's life.

You were the sun to my Earth.
You cast warmth to me.
But now I see you never intended.
On setting me free.

All your lies taste bitter on my tongue.
I hate that I loved you.
That I had once loved.
My poem I wrote, I shared my feelings that day.

But what do I do now?
I don't know what to say.

Where do babies come from?
Do they come from the bright blue sky up above?
Up where the doves sing and shout?

Do they come from a bright world full of hope?
Do they come from angels in love?
Saints blessing the world?

They come from tobacco-ridden men,
They come from girls who want to grow up too fast,
They come from demons in lust,
They come from broken homes.

They come from broke dads in debt,
They come from girls who beg to be left alone,
They come from pleading, screaming,
They're an accident, from centuries ago.

But in this day and age, aren't we all birthing addicts?

A black and white world.
Devoid of colour, devoid of feeling.
No sound.
Only silence.

Then I met you and my heart beat fast.
I couldn't breathe without you near.
I wonder why.

The dreary skies suddenly turned blue.
The wind blew stronger than ever.
The birds began to sing.

I could hear music pound from my heart, whenever you came close.
The streets full of chatter, full of life.
Colourful clothes.
A radiant display.

When I touch you, my world's on fire.
I feel content and burst into tears.
Your lips on mine make my heart sing.
I love your warmth.

Holding your hand, I cry.
Crystal blue tears seep into your skin.
I wonder why.

Your hand limps.
The world is black and white.

White wings.
Desperately flapping.
Living its life.
Pure soul.

You rest upon my shoulder.
You're so light.
But my chest feels heavy.
I cross my legs.

My face warms up.
Can you hear my heart beating?
Give me a moment.
I'm a bit ****** up.

White butterfly.
With a blade to its wing.
Cutting a slit.
Kissing it.

I'll stick my tongue in it.
Make sure you can feel it.
Right down into your stomach.
Crimson cheeks.

So fragile.
So beautiful.
So weak.
So innocent.

You trace my limbs and lips.
You raise a blade to my skin.
And begin to cut little slits.
You open them with your fingertips.

It's such a delight like this.
You say this is the love everyone should find.
So don't cry.
Don't worry.

You're supposed to bleed the first time.

Lying in a field of flowers.
I’m plucked by a needle.

Something sharp that was hidden.
Nothing I suspected.

Oozing with blood, the field stains red.
A reminder of the pain I went through.

I can’t look at daisies.
Without thinking of you.

Is this the curse I must bear?

I see your name in flashing lights.
Your face in the streets.

Every place we used to meet.
I drop down to my knees.

The agonising needle that pierced my back.
Corrupts my once pure heart.

Giving me chest pains.
I cannot endure.

I never knew death could taste so sweet.

As I lay here in pain.
I reminisce, my dear.

About the memories we shared.
The life we lived.

And as I hold your warm hand.
Within my frozen fingertips.

The needle falls.
On a bloodied bed.

Bright lights!
Neon signs!
Pounding sounds
with citrus scents.

Focus on me.
Zoom in.
Zoom out.
I'll be all they see.

All eyes on me!

Wet cement!
Handprints!
Deafening silence
with the smell of freshly burnt oak.

Focus on me.
Flashing lights.
Blinding colour.
I'll be all they see.

All eyes on me!

Big billboards!
Magazine covers!
Spotlight on me
and the crew sets up scene.

Focus on me.
Dig your nails into me.
Leave your scent on me.
I'll be all they see.

I'm everyone's favourite.
I'm in control.
The society is crumbling.
They hum a lulling beat.

With their eyes on me.

If you're a saint, I'm a sinner.
I'm willing to do anything for you.

Pools of blood drip from my wrist.
It's a spicy and agonising feeling.

You lick it all up.
Pushing me down inside you.

Love hurts like a *****.
Guess we must be sadistic.

Every morning is a break for the wicked.
Because I lay with you in comfortable silence.

But I know that you'll let go.
Untangle your fingers and flee.

But you'll always come back.
Because without my blood you're thirsty.

Round and round,
we go around,
on the carousel of love,
we'll never hit the ground.

Chasing a goal,
I know I'll never make.
Leading me 'round the nose,
but it's fine, I don't mind,
'cause it's you who's doing so.

Hey boy,
I'll be the jester,
entertain you,
just don't leave.

I don't care if you hate me,
just let me love you,
I'll beg on the ground for you,
just give me attention,
and you won't regret it.

But when I fall off the ride,
and bleed from my knee,
the hand that helps me,
why is it yours?

Counting the steps you take.
Your fingers touching mine.
These walls I built up over time.
Slowly, you take them down.

This violent facade.
Eating me up inside.
I want to scream but I can't.
This is who I am now.

I distance myself.
Scared of getting hurt.
But you approached me.
And became my world.

I still detest how I acted back then.
I pushed you away.
When you tried to understand.
But the facade I made.

Crumbled down.

The only one I loved.
The only one I trusted.
You stood there, captivated by me.
Wishing I wouldn't go.

Everybody's words.
Like swords that cut deep.
I can't forgive them.
Can I even forgive myself?

So I let go of the anxieties.
Because despite my actions.
My true nature is love.
I love you, Shuichi - this is to be known.

These lies I built as walls of protection.
Break down and cover me.
Suffocate me.
I let myself be crushed under the weight.

Much like a hydraulic press.

Even after death, I will still love you.
You spoke to me, loathed me.
But I still love you.
And that will never change.

You ask why I lied.
I lie all the time.
It's my only defence.
From the people outside.

I know you don't understand.
Maybe you never will.
But that's okay.
My heart is open for you to accept.

After all,

"I" am just a "lie" that makes up "me."

A crumbling god lays in my grasp.
As he lay coated in my tears.
I can't help but hope they heal him.

He said we'd ascend.
We'd leave our flesh vessels.
To watch over them like gods.

Yet, with all the power I've consumed.
Why is the body I'm holding stiff?
I've become a god, all you've ever wanted.

When you said you could join me.
Was that just a lie?
You said we could rid the Earth of filth.

What do I need to do to tell you I love you.
Would it take mere words to bring you back?
Ashes to ashes.

A tall man came today.
Coated head-to-toe in black.
He said he could bring you back.

For one small price.
If I gave up my name, my identity.
For that, you would return.

I accepted.
I await your arrival.
While you rest, I caress you.

I need to rest, I've been awake too long.
You may not remember me.
But that is alright.

For you see, my dear.
As long as you are here.
We can be gods all we'd like.

Blue.
Red.
Yellow.
Green.

Little hands, touching a static screen.
Smearing lipstick and singing into a hairbrush.

Bigger hands, tracing a phone screen.
Wearing lipstick and standing on stage.

Holding hands, walking down the street.
Holding a clutch, walking a red road.

Black.

Long karaoke car drives with friends.
Quiet flights amidst a night sky.

Cranberry juice with girlfriends.
***** martinis in an apartment alone.

Friends with everyone.
Friends with the flashing lights, reflected in eyes.

Blue.
Red.
Yellow.
Green.

Lovers.
Tabloids.

Smoking.
Coc­aine.

Break-up.
TV Shows.

Black.

Waking up in a cold sweat.
Your heart bursting through your chest.

Diamond jewellery to your left.
Empty cigarette packets and beer cans to your right.

Asking yourself the same thing you've asked since.
Are you still having fun?

Pools of ink drench white paper.
Darkness covering a world of light.

Your piercing red body shone through a bleak world.
And as you approached me I turned blue.

You were the only colour in a world full of white.
Every time it rained you never got stained in black.

The ink never touched you.
Never filthied you.

You always stayed vibrant.
That perfect scarlet red.

You finally approached me.
A pastel blue boy.

Your smooth, tender hands all over my body.
Marking me in lilac bites.

The dull world outside shunned us.
Because we were different.

But I find comfort in your coloured arms.
Because when I'm with you, I'm no longer blue.

When you touch me, I explode with colour.
I become a lilac man.

I can hear the crunching of your skull.
The remnants of it being split on the road.
I frantically take all the pieces.
And pull out my glue.

I can barely recognise you.
Your face is a mass of ****** and broken bones.
Your warm hand is now stone cold.
And your fingers feel like twigs.

The scars that cover your body are no more.
All the flesh you were full of is gone.
All that's left is skin and bone.
And your beautiful face remains in my memories.

I hug the rags that you wore.
They still smell like you.
But now I've stained them.
With tears like a salty sea.

I can't rebuild your bones.
Because I know I'd snap them accidentally.
My glue isn't that strong.
Because my heart's already breaking.

creaming soda is a pleasant drink, don’t you think?
the pink aesthetic of it, the sweet taste.
the way it tickles down your throat with each gulp.

it’s like a small exciting adventure every time you drink.
few things feel as good as drinking some creaming soda.
except, being with you.

somehow, for me, it exceeds the limits.
i no longer taste that fleeting sweetness.
it’s an overwhelming flavour that melts me down to my core.

i’ve never been much good at writing.
if you keep your pen in one spot, the ink will pool.
you and i both know that well.

but for you, i keep it moving.
whether or not the outcome is good.
i move my hand and write for you.

being with you feels like a time out of space.
a place that nobody except us can reach.
where we laugh, watch and love.

i bet you weren’t expecting this.
and i understand how you feel.
i just needed to tell you.

writing is a passion of mine.
so telling you like this felt right.
plus, you always said you liked to read what i write.

i would love to take you by the hand.
and dance with you, round and round.
until our heads feel heavy ‘cause we’re dizzy.

i know you don’t feel the same.
and that’s okay.
because as long as i can stay by your side.

i’ll be alright.

let us dance.
hands joined.
in the pink waves of an ocean of love.

"Why are you crying?
You knew it was going to die."

Humans are strange creatures.
I've known that from the start.

You were no exception.
For the time being.

You cried over everything.
Animals dying, falling over.

Whatever it was, you'd cry.
In a way, I thought you were pitiful.

But I have grown since childhood.
Remembered who I was, once upon a time.

I'd cross worlds to protect you.
Even though you contradict me all the time.

You don't like what I say.
I never understood why.

I killed all those humans for you.
Those heathens.

But even then, you cry.
You cried and cried until no more tears would flow.

I remember the words to spoke to me.
Each one slipping out on a sharp tongue.

You had no more tears.
They had run out.

You hated me.
Despised me.

So we fought.
I thought we could reconcile.

Begin again.
Life brand new.

But when I turned to you to speak.
What stared back at me was dull.

A hollow vessel.
Void of a human heart.

You wouldn't speak to me.
You wouldn't breathe for me.

No matter how much I yelled.
You would never hear.

And for the first time in my life.
I cried.

"Hey, Akira,
What are these feelings?"

What defines love?

It's viewed differently when compared to every other person.
I could say love is an intimate feeling.
While you could persist that it's non-existent.

What does love really mean?

I believe love means you're willing to devote your life to a certain person.
It's an intimate feeling - but it comes with stress and fear.
But you can rest easy if you know the other party involved loves you too.

What does it mean if you don't love someone enough?

Is that a real thing?
Because I tried my hardest.
But it wasn't enough.

Isn't it funny how a lot of fears.
Have never been seen in reality?

They fear clowns.
But have never seen one in person.

They fear the ocean.
But have never drowned.

They fear heights.
But have never fallen.

I think it's funny.
Because a lot of people fear demons.

You've never seen a demon.
Yet, I have.

Demons aren't that scary.
They're just like you or me.

They long to be loved.
To be appreciated.

They want to feel valued.
They want to feel worthy.

At the end of the day.
Don't we all want that?

So put down your pitchforks.
Put down your torches.

Grab your closest demon.
And give them affection.

Warm arms cradling a cold boy.
Reassurance is only temporarily comforting.
Tears stain the boy, seeping into his soul.

He knows they care, but they cannot help.
The scars covering his arms are apparent.
But he doesn't care anymore.

It helps him relax and washes away his sorrows.
The warm arms grip tighter.
"I won't go away."

He knows they care.
He's well aware.
But from beneath the warm cocoon.
He picks up a razor.

In a world full of people, nobody can help.
You live in isolation; full of self-doubt.

I have a very limited diet.
I survive off sweet and nutritious thoughts.
The compliments that taste like candy.
I devour them whole.

Put a little icing on me.
I could use a personality.
What do you want me to be?
Something sour? Or something sweet?

Cut me open, limb by limb.
Tell me good things.
Eat me and tell me how good I taste.
I crave the validation.

The bad thoughts have my stomach tied in knots.
I puke them out until I'm hungry again.
I could use some sweet things.
So all your thoughts get shoved down my throat.

Order anything you'd like.
I'll be whatever you want.
I'll make sure to consume perfection.
You are what you eat after all.

Am I good yet?
Am I too much, too little?
Too sweet, too savoury?
I will take in your thoughts and make you happy.

I'm filling up on too many thoughts.
But I'm starving.
I'm overeating all the nice things you say.
My insides are an overflowing shipwreck.

What flavour is my personality?
Should I just scrape it off?
Everyone will like me more without it.
Everyone will like me more without it.

Devour me whole, tell me I'm pretty.
Take a bite of me.
Call me the perfect identity.
Do you enjoy me?

I purge your thoughts and change my flavour.
Why aren't you happy?
My stomach is empty.
I've forgotten who I used to be.

Sometimes at night.
I look at the glistening sky.
The sky shines bright with thousands of stars.
Each one of them reminds me of you.

One star is your eye, shining when you’re happy.
Another one is your mouth, your pearly teeth when you smile.
Yet another star for your big, blooming heart.
And one more, a flashing star, for your silky laugh.

Sometimes we meet in my dreams.
We hold hands and dance on a road of stars.
We count the stars as we step.
And by the end of the road, I’ve woken up.

These stars and these dreams are all I have.
Since you live across the sea.
But know that I would travel far and wide.
Just to hear your laugh again.

You make me so happy I can barely breathe.
It’s hard to describe the way you make me feel.
Even through poetry.
You leave me wordless.

That’s why this poem.
Is a bit messy.
A bit wild.
Pretty all over the place.

Because there are so few words.
To describe how special.
And important.
You are to me.

I know I say it a lot.
But I really do love you.
And the day you said it back.
Was the best day of my life.

These stars and these dreams.
They’re enough for now.
Because one day.
I’ll be there.

Taking a plane across the world.
Just to see you smile.
Then those stars won’t compare.
To the most beautiful sight before me.

Soft music, echoing from a phonograph.
The distant smell of tobacco and white wine.
Comforting, yet, unsettling.

Smoke fills the room, blurring visions.
It's warm, feels safe.

Raindrops can be heard hitting the pavement outside.

Is this a dream?
Am I dead?

I can feel myself float above lukewarm water.
Drifting away, my skin cold against the air.

My head is light and empty.
It feels nice.

Better than being awake.
This dream world is a safe haven.

Who would want to be confined to a dark reality?
When you can get everything you want,
                                                                just by closing your eyes?

Cold, violet skin.
Red rose petals fall from my wrist.

The scent is pleasant.
It makes my head spin.

I spew eucalyptus leaves into the overflowing river.
Oleanders flow down my throat.

I puke out the petals, now stained red.
The river flows red as the lilypads sink.

Monkshood flowers cast shadows over my porcelain skin.
I pluck and I pluck and I pluck.

Until my fingertips are stained purple.
I lick them clean.

I weep tears that take the shape of an angel's trumpet.
They sing me a soft lullaby as they seep into my skin.

Pretty foxgloves draw me in closer.
I touch their shell and inhale their scent.

My stomach turns inside out.
Skyflower petals seep from my mouth.

I hadn't noticed until now.
That my entire body was a wilted rose.

Tracing the lines on your thighs.
I look into your crystal eyes.

Our bodies stick together during humid nights.
Your eyes are stories; bright coloured lights.

Connecting your freckles like constellations.
I try not to give into my temptations.

I reach for your hand under the black sky.
In the dark, nobody can see you cry.

Rest your head on my shoulder and let it out.
I hate how you say you love me with doubt.

We've all got problems, issues of our own.
Nobody needs to go through that alone.

I love you, I touch you every night.
Your neck covered in love-bites.

The only problem I have is loving you.
When you leave, my soul turns blue.

My body radiates like sunlight with you near.
So please, stay tonight, just tonight, my dear.

Why do I live?
I can count the number of times I've been happy on both hands.

Why don't I die?
It would be really easy to **** myself, I realise this.

But when I press the cold steel to my flesh.
I hesitate.

Death seems to be the ultimate thing I crave.
But my greatest fear.

I've spent too many nights sobbing into my pillow.
So I ask myself.

Why do I live?
I like seeing my family happy.

Why?
I like seeing my friends happy.

Why?
I like seeing anybody happy.

Why?
I hate seeing them upset.

Will I ever be truly satisfied?
I doubt it.

But, I want to try.

Why do I live?
I live not for myself. But I live for others.

Why don't I die?
Even though I don't believe it, people will be upset once I'm gone.

So when I press the cold steel to my flesh.
I put the knife away.

Death seems to be the ultimate thing I crave.
But if I let the urge completely erode me I will never be happy.

Happiness doesn't start once you die.
It happens when you learn to live.

Crying softly, I rest a hand on your cheek.
"Everything's going to be okay."
"You didn't need them anyway!"
Until your face turns into ashes.

An unrecognisable mass that once was you.
What happened to the you I knew?
I hear glass shatter.
As your silhouette gets further.

I don't understand why you always look so sad.
Life would be so much easier if you were glad.
But when I touch your pretty face.
Your porcelain skin starts to break.

I look through the glass.
"I'm doing okay.
I am okay.
Even though I needed them, anyway."
Then the glass breaks.

Words echoing through the cave that is my mind.
Trying to put all the pieces back together.
But they can never fit just quite right.
It's always you, but not the one that I knew.

"Today is a good day."
I lie.
"You can do it."
I lie.

"You're stable, happy with life.
One day, you'll make the perfect wife."
I look into the mirror.
Then my face turns to black.

A distant daydream,
a memory I can't escape.

No matter how hard I try,
It always catches up to me.

A garden that floods,
as soon as I'm awake.

The cheering of a crowd,
that I can't make out.

Loud noises,
distorting my thoughts.

I try to forget,
But I'm dragged right back.

Am I real?
Is this real?

I can't escape these dreams,
It doesn't matter if I'm awake.

So I go back to bed.

But I can't see.
My whole vision is a blurred, red mess.
My blood is soaking the string.
Dripping onto the marble floor.

Drip
Drip
Drip
Drip

There's a pounding sensation in my head.
It hurts, I cannot breathe.
I do not love you.
Get out of my head.

Out
Out
Out
Out

With a pair of scissors, I cleanly cut the string.
It loosely falls to the floor.
You stare at me with your big blue eyes.
It's like looking into an abyss, or into a twilight sky.

But it stings.
A bruise marks my finger where the string once was.
The starry sky is swallowing me whole.
I will never again see your pretty face.

I hate the string that burns my skin.
I hate your face.
It gives me a melancholic tinge.
I hate what drew us together.

But I finally broke it.

I can play any part.
If that's what you want.
I can do anything you ask.
Nothing but machinery.

The gears and cogs turning in my mind.
Get muddled when you speak to me.
I've built myself from the ground up.
Then you swing into me, crashing me down.

I can be your everything.
Make myself dependant on you.
I can do anything you ask.
I'm nothing but machinery.

My fuel's running low.
My springs are popping out.
Your lies to my face.
Your knives to my heart.

You can pick me up and repair me.
Or toss me out with the other garbage.
I always thought I could take it all.
Whatever you had, you could lay it on me.

But when I cut myself I bleed.
When I fall down, I get *****.
I crash.
I break down.

My blood is not black.
It is not a thicky, oily mass.
My skin is not metal.
It will scrape and produce wounds.

I thought I could do anything.
Anything you asked of me.
But turns out I was human all along.
Made out of flesh and blood.

It was dark, cold and cramped.
I thought I'd never get out.
It seemed impossible.
The demons were consuming me and I couldn't do anything about it.

Anything.

Then there was a sprout of light.
It almost blinded me amidst the dark.
I felt myself breathing a little easier.
My eyes shot open.

It was there.
Right there.
Just beyond my reach.
Can I make it?

Knees bleeding after making contact with the floor.
Legs stained with red.
But the light, it guided me.
I was so close.

There's always light at the end of the tunnel.
You'll never make it unscathed.
But that's okay because you're free.

Like a feather picked up by a gust of wind.
                                                                           Fly.

I have so many worries.
Anxieties.
That I just can't escape.
They flood my brain.
Controlling my memories.

I keep up the facade.
That I'm stable.
Happy, nice.
But I'm not.
I'm anything but.

I break down every night.
Because of you.
My tears stain my face.
Because of you.
I don't know what to say.
Because of you.

You never meant to hurt me.
I never meant to hurt you.
But in the end.
We wound up hurting each other.
We were the monsters they warned us about.

The dark clouds, wrapping themselves around us.
Only engulfing us in sadness.
So I keep on crying.
Because the more I do.
The more the dark lets go of you.

You don't know.
But I do.
With each tear I drop.
The monster consuming me.
Will eventually.
Swallow me whole.

An angel with an arched back.
It's wings spread out like an owl's.
She turns to gaze at me.
Fluttering eyelids.

Her hand runs over her pale skin.
Her white wings flutter with every touch she makes.
Her dead eyes creep to gaze at me.
Beckoning me.

My throat feels clogged.
I walk closer.
My hands are shaking.
I still, walk closer.

She reaches her hand out to me.
I take it without hesitation.
An angel in love with a human?
It's mad, isn't it?

I kiss her hand and she smiles.
Her eyes are still dead.
She runs her fingers up and down my throat.
I sputter white petals all over her.

She's dowsed in white petals.
They're stuck in her midnight hair.
She smiles at me, her eyes finally glistening.
I smile back.

An angel in love with a human.
It's mad, isn't it?
Yes, it's mad.
But aren't we all a little mad sometimes?

They're laughing.
Smiling.
Being happy.
Happy Happy Happy.

It's hot in here.
Marshmallows being roasted near a fire.
Presents being put down.
Cards on trees.

It smells like family.
It smells like relations.
It smells like happiness.
It smells like living.

I can't touch them, I can't.
It hurts.
Every Christmas hurts.
The smell of eggnog fills the air.

They sit at the table and pray.
My mother weeps.
It's been three years.
She's not over it.

I want to cradle and hold her.
Tell her it's okay.
Tell her I'm alright.
But I'm not alright.

She can't see me.
Nobody can.
Not even myself.
It hurts.

Every Christmas I relive the same thing.
The flashing lights.
The horns.
The sirens.

The sound of my spine cracking in the all wrong places.
The sound of my mother crying in the ambulance.
The sound of my siblings arguing with doctors.
The sound of my life support being pulled.

It's alright, I'm here.
Christmas can continue.
Just hold me and tell me it's okay.
I need to talk.

Someone.
Anyone.

There she is.
Whenever I see her, my heart starts to ****.
She's beautiful, her smile makes my day.
But whenever we talk, I don't know what to say.

We like a lot of the same things.
Whenever she's around, birds start to sing.
Whenever she touches me, my body sets aflame.
Does she realise my aim?

My face feels hot, this is it.
Time to say what's on my mind, without throwing a fit.
"I love you," I say.
She plays with my heart like it's clay.

She smiles gently and puts her hand on my shoulder.
My heart begins to smoulder.
"I don't like girls," she says to me.
I said how I feel, but at what fee?

Flowers are beautiful.
Not just in their appearance.
Each flower has a meaning,
Meanings unique to each one.

Flowers smell nice and look nice.
However, if you get too close they can hurt.
That's why they're put away in a vase, for viewing.
Look, don't touch.

However, all nice things must come to an end.
Flowers will wither away, much like a human.
However, you can always grow them again.
Flowers are easily replaceable.

Sometimes I hate flowers.
They're everything a human isn't.
You can't **** a person and grow one back.
You can't wither away and become a decoration.

Humans can't be put away, only to view.
Even the most beautiful flowers will hurt you.
Because you let them out of the vase.
I envy flowers, in some way.

Pick me up and spin me around.
Not too tightly, or you'll cut yourself.
Smell me, lean in and tell me I'm pretty.
Then when I wither, scatter me across the sea.

Standing at rain-covered train tracks.

If you were a god, what would you do?
Make a perfect world?
While everybody claps along.
Then disappear without a trace.

Nobody will notice that you slipped away.
You smile.
You say you're fine.
You're fine.

But you're not fine.

It's hard being a god.
The entire world in your tiny grasp.
Mistakes being made everywhere.
So disappear without a trace.

Nobody will notice you slipped away.
They never liked you anyway.
You're fine.
You're fine.

You smile and lie.

I'll kiss your tongue.
Make everything better.
Feed you kerosene.
So you'll slowly wither.

Nobody will notice you slipped away.
They never knew you anyway.
You say you're fine.
You claim you're fine.

You scream and lie.

Spitting out your toxic drink.
You know the answer now.
You can fix all your mistakes.
The god of this world.

Nobody will notice you slipped away.
What's a god, anyway?
You say you're fine.
Close your eyes.

And step in line.

[ Caution ]
[ Fragile ]

Our legs tangle together beneath tables.
Our smiles complete each other.
Your eyes are crystal blue.
Mine are a crimson red.

You reach over and caress my hand.
It feels good when you rub my knuckles.
You place a kiss.
It feels good.

But,
uneasy.

I love when you hold my waist.
We ballroom dance in the small kitchen space.
You rest your head on my thighs.
It feels nice.

You pull open my skin to look at my heart.
Your mouth gapes open.
Are you surprised to see it shattered apart?
It wasn't my choice, however.

Not mine,
not at all.

You hold red glass, cutting your skin.
Hurriedly you try to put them together.
I've been hurt before.
What's a little more?

Two pieces connect at the hip.
You smile through bloodied hands.
The pieces shiver in your touch.
You caress them with such compassion.

It stings,
but in a good way.

Slowly but surely, the pieces stick together.
A glass heart, torn at the seems.
You place it back, and stitch me up.
You smile at me, though your hands are scratched.

I kiss your wounds.
You cry for me.
I never believed in true love.
But this time, I'll give it a shot.

There was a little girl,
Never seen, never heard,
Her heart ached,
Her vision blurred.

Hannah drank until dawn,
Her knuckles bruised and ******,
For a woman, she was brawn,
Oh, what an unlucky little girl.

She looked next to the sink, there were tablets,
Hoping to forget Hannah's abusive habits,
The little girl heard screams and shouts,
Her tears stung and she swallowed her doubts.

Crashing, crying and threats,
The little girl cries behind the door,
Hannah cannot pay her debts,
She looks next to the sink and finds her answer.

The little girl slashes her wrists,
Taking more tablets, this makes six.
The bruises will fade tomorrow,
Though, the blood continues to flow.

Sticky bodies.
Collided with sheets.
White sticky substance.
All over the screen.

They moan and bounce to and fro.
Violet stained hands covering their skin.
Her throat looks dry so he spits in it.
She screams, more white.

My grainy television screen jumps.
I whack it a few times until I get a clear picture.
Crimson sheets.
Moans with a blade.

Screaming as something makes her weary.
Being ****** with a knife.
He traces her thighs.
Letting himself inside.

My body is heating up.
I bite my lip and **** my head.
I reach to my hips.
Everything is hot and fuzzy.

She bites his neck.
Blood drooling out.
He hits her.
She moans.

White screen.
Insides leaking.
A crime scene, it should be.
But why is my hand all white and sticky?

Red and white dotted fabric.
I spin around in my chic new dress.
My husband kisses me goodbye.
I iron out the clothes.

Stitch.
Sew.
Cut.
Pull.

Warm, homecooked meals.
We dine as a tune from our youth plays on the radio.
He places a rose on my empty plate.
I smile.

Thimbles coat my fingers.
I stick pins in fabric and sew it up together.
I feel a thud in my stomach.
I iron out the clothes.

He welcomes me home with gifts.
My baby boy is fast asleep.
My husband is slowly coming home later and later.
He hasn't noticed the holes in my arm.

I drink another shot, smiling at my sleepy baby boy.
My husband isn't home.
I pop my pills.
And I iron out the clothes.

The medicine isn't working anymore.
I can't stop his screaming.
Shut up.
Shut that child up.

My husband is yelling at me.
What did I do wrong?
He tears my new dress.
I iron out the clothes.

My baby won't stop crying.
Stop, please.
My husband is never home.
My head hurts.

I throw the pills down the drain.
I shakily brandish a knife.
I breathe.
And iron out the clothes.

Crimson splattered across walls.
An old tune from our youth plays on the radio.
My husband isn't breathing.
My baby boy stopped crying.

I feed my child and put him to sleep.
I sleep.
I spin around in my green and white polka dotted dress.
The fabric tearing at the seams.

I iron out the clothes.
The fabric.
The rope.

I leave a rose next to my child and stand up.
This necklace fits perfectly.
I take a bow in front of the mirror.
Don't I look pretty?

I kick the furniture.
Dancing midair.
My hair falls to my face.
I iron out the

Fingers intertwined.
Even on a hot, Summer day.

Kicking our legs that hide under tables.
Hands reaching for one another.

This moment.
Is brief.
I think I recognise this.
But how do I know?

Kissing under a pale moonlight.
Or curled up, binging movies when it rains.

Being competitive.
Being affectionate.

This brief moment.
Is so familiar.
I’m scared I’m getting ahead.
Oh, how do I know?

When you said my name.
For the very first time.

I saw a twinkle.
In your eyes.

This throbbing in my chest.
I recognise this.
Ah.
That’s how you know.

She’s your love.