“Once more unto the breach,” echoes from within.

Cast away your anxious thoughts, don’t let negativity breed within your skin

Only positivity from here on out, a new strategy for an old plan

You are the decider of your future, you are the eye of the beholder, will this break you or make you?

Only you will tell, though you are a quiet soul

Soak up the rays of the sun

Let the light fuel you in the hardest times

Remember what it feels like

For you are the quiet warrior, blood of your demons stains your sword

A savage for the good of all

Ghosts of the past invade gentle nightfall

Remember how you conquered, never faltered, and smile

The past can only persuade you to try harder, your demons are only your fodder

“Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more,” gently slips through your lips

Your next war draws nigh; Blood drips from fingertips

Inside jokes,
Once brought laughter to few,
Confusion to many

Now inside of an empty space,
Bringing laughter to none,
A sharp pang of pain to some

Although a testament to the good times,
They now only bring tears to my eyes

Caught up in grieving those that still walk around
I used to think mourning only grew from the other side of the ground
It doesn’t take a death to wake this Banshee’s sound
Her screech, a sign of a friendship put down
Nothing learned nothing gained
The only lesson taught was that there’s always room for more pain

The words I seek lie beneath
Row on row of ground down teeth
Separating flesh from bone
Burdens carried long from home
Letters strung on golden thread
Woven from heart, leading to head
When will all the words unsaid
Return from rapture; nothing left to dread

Gears come in all shapes and size,

Your hips move along with mine,

We'd make a perfect machine.

We'll show the world what love looks like,

Baby, you can grind my gears anytime.

I used to think love was when someone gave you a warm tingly feeling,
If cherry chap-stick erupted into an emotion,
If cotton candy could bleed.

Now I know that love is heavy.
Love is heavy and sweet, with occasional bitter layers in between; love has a mouth on it.
Love will keep you in line.
Love will blur the lines entirely but still expect you to remain inside
them.
When you feel love, you become drenched in it, you are simply sopping wet with irrational decisions spawned out of love.
It is a weight I will gladly carry.
I will walk into the ocean with no stopping in sight carrying armfuls of love.

You led me to safety, with white knuckles and wobbling knees

No matter your state of being you always put my peace of mind first

You were open and straightforward, telling me every word of your life story, omitting no nitty gritty details

You told me you were only honest with me

And I had no reason to think differently

But if that's true, I think there might be more to pursue, I think we might be exploring the wrong avenues

I admire so much about you, your generosity, your intentions, your honesty and ambitions

You are my safety net, an angel on request

You are dependability when no one has stepped up yet

You're one of the best I know, and I'm so glad to have you in my life, no matter what's in between the lines.

I won't long for more than I have, because not many are lucky enough to have a friend as good as mine.

Have I been forgotten more than I’ve been remembered?
I’m afraid to ask but feel the gentle nudge of my overthinking little demon telling me I need to know. I want to preserve. That is my goal ultimately. Preserve my life, preserve my memories. If only I had done it sooner, maybe I could remember my own Mother’s voice. Maybe I could remember who I am. What I want to be. I am built of choices and principles that I am not entirely sure I agree with, but have I ever been entirely sure about anything? Uncertainty is my main anxiety, uncertainty is my most well established feeling, for there is no doubt in my mind that I am uncertain when I’m uncertain. Or maybe there is. I want to see color on my cheeks, happiness on my lips that shows with every word I say, a body I feel blessed to have no matter my weight. I want to taste happy. I want to taste it in all of its mellow waves of sweet fruit and darting sunsets. I want to taste the Caribbean Sea mixed with sweaty hands and palm trees. I want to be happy. That’s who I want to be. I know there’s no ending that ends with “Well kids, she did it! She found happiness and became nothing but an overflowing beam of light flooding those she loved with warmth and growth and the support she always wished she could give. She found happy.” But if I could just get a taste, a whiff of happiness, maybe that would be enough. Maybe then I could move on and pursue my next dream. Maybe if I caught a glance of happy I would gain the strength to fix our economy. I don’t want happy to be my “The End,” I want happy to be my “Sorry for the technical difficulties, now ladies and gentlemen, on with the show.” I want it to be what gives me the strength to do everything else. Maybe it’s nonsense, only a dream with no bearing to reality. Or maybe I am simply overlooking, overthinking, everything over, look down, look down! Stop being “Over,” things, you are over nothing, you are not the sky nor the clouds in it, you are not the highest branches nor the leaves that remain on it. You are the ground. The very definition of grounded. People walk on you because you let them, it makes you happy. People often see you as *****. You are the ground, which means you are necessary, you are what holds us together, quite literally. You are the ground, and that's makes you beautiful. You’re not intimidated by the footsteps of a thousand warriors for you are under them. And for once, that means you have the advantage. You are the ground. It is short and sweet, so why do you still manage to find misery? You are the ground from which happiness grows. I am happiness. You found me.

I hear the motor humming in the background

I hear the chirps from the morning birds, and even they don't sound enthusiastic about the time of day

I can hear your mom scratching bug bites on her arm. She scratches, digs, and scrapes, as if she is expecting to find something.

Bottles of sweet tea sit rattling next to me, clanking with each bump in the road, with each jump of my heart.

I hear brakes screeching to a slow stop, with a desperateness that reminds me of my darkest moments, my cries that no one witnessed, the tears that fell without acknowledgement.

The sun has yet to warm the world this morning, but it still casts its light on my arms, making my sunburn tingle but reminding me I'm alive

I can smell your great grandmother's perfume from when she hugged me so tight, reminding me of a family I never had.

I can smell the ocean, feel the grit of sand in the car. No matter how hard you try, we all take a bit of the beach home with us. It's salty waters one day blend with our salty tears.

But all I care to hear
Are your sweet shallow yawns and breathing. As long as you're breathing that's always all I need.

I think I could very well tackle anything if I knew all the time that you were alive, content, and happy.

I feel the need to give you an apology, for what I truly do not know. But whatever it is, I am genuinely sorry. Please, never let yourself go. Learn to love yourself as I love you.

Dependence. I danced with dependence that night. A disgusting word on its own, but when you say co-dependence, now it sounds nicer, right? It sounds more socially acceptable. It sounds like adoration. But I hear heartbreak. I hear one misstep and the whole dance crumbles. I hear stepping on toes and twisting ankles. I hear broken sobs, and a strained "I'm sorry." I feel the pain that courses through your whole entire body. I feel the vibration of the living earth, and the struggling breaths just trying to get some **** air into those stubborn lungs. But you're still thinking about how soft his hands were and how you'll never get to feel them again. I hear disaster. I hear "What now?" I hear grieving. I feel his hands.

To the girl I will never see again,

I didn't even get your name, but I feel so certain it was beautiful.
You were tiny and angelic, but in no way fragile.
You had a smile that lit up the entire concert even when the lights were dim.
I am grateful to have met you, if only for one evening.
You barely came up to my shoulder, and I am in no way tall,
But somehow, you still seemed stronger than anyone else there.
Your makeup was perfect, when I was entirely drenched in other people's sweat.
Every time you could tell I was scared, you pulled me out of the pit.
Whenever a guy was getting a little too close to me, you pulled me away instantaneously.
You made sure if anyone had water, that I got a sip.
You cared, but why?
Why in the world would you have picked me of all people to make sure I was safe all night?
This was both of our favorite bands,
But you made sure I did more than survive the night.
You made sure I was happy the whole way through.
The lights reflected on your bright red hair,
Reminding me why we associate red with love.
I don't believe in love at first sight.
But I believe that you cared about me.
And I don't know why.
But I surely care about you too.
I wish you hadn't have gotten lost in a sea of people during the encore.
I wish I had gotten your name.
I wish I had gotten to know you.
May we cross paths again, my "For One Night Only" friend.

Everything reminds me of you, and ****, do I love it or do I hate it? It hurts, but it's worth the pain. Because for just a moment, things are how they used to be. We are holding hands, I can feel your heartbeat, you keep glancing at my mouth when we're talking. And my God...My God I cannot put into words how much I miss it. But right now, I'm standing in the street where we were once laying, limbs entwined, warm despite the cool breeze, looking at the stars at two in the morning. Now I am standing here and it is no longer Winter, but I can still feel the coldness.

They say, "There are plenty of fish in the sea," but you see, I assure you, I am no longer in the sea, I am on the dock barely breathing.

When you left me all alone, I flopped out of the water in a full blown panic, with every text you did not open I launched myself into the air trying to remember how to breath. With every day we did not speak I grew weaker, oxygen deprived, you were my air supply. Flopping, flopping, gasping, and desperately grabbing onto any part of you I had left, I no longer felt alive, have I already tasted the bitterness of death? All I think about all day on the gritty dock is our best memories and the secrets you unlocked for me, we had something so pure and good; and then reality comes flooding back in the form of a panic attack, why am I not good enough, how the hell do you not miss me, where is your pain and your misery? Flop, flop, until finally it stops. I have been lulled into a disgusting dream, one where we do not speak, and this is supposed to be reality. I can no longer breathe. I am a fish out of water, with no more wounds left to bleed. I am dried out. Entirely. No more tears, air, or life can be found inside me. Please, Dear God someone put me back in the sea. Let us reabsorb the love that has inevitably left me to plead. But no, friend, carry on, there are plenty of fish in the sea. There just is no longer me.

He said "I'm sorry," for the third time that night.

I said through broken sobs, hands rested on a tear soaked pillow, "There is no need to apologize friend, you did nothing wrong, we're fine."

He had been typing for a while before he said, "I just kinda owe it to her, ya know?" I decided to not make a tally of all the promises he has made me, and instead I said, "Yeah, totally. You've gotten better at taking responsibility."

I decided not to focus on the night before, when we held hands crying out pained words, emotionally charged from the whole concert, but the focus was still on our sweaty hands gripping each other tighter with every word that reminded us of each other. I decided to not remember him wrapping his arms around me, pulling me tighter, tighter, because we just could not seem to get close enough to one another. I chose to ignore how I could still feel his hands gripping my shoulders. I decided to neglect all the memories that were always too good to be.

Next thing I know, we're on the phone, I needed to hear your voice, I needed to remember I wasn't all alone. He said, "I hate this, I thought making a decision would make things easier, but it didn't, it just hurt you, that's literally all it did." Suddenly I switched gears, I turned off the tears, and reassured him that this was pain I could handle, dear. Just try to relax, it'll all be in the past soon, just go outside and look at the full moon, remember we will survive this too. He said, "I still have feelings for you ya know. I just made this decision because I owe it to her, that's the only reason. And we might be together one day, who knows."

"Yeah, I know," I said trying not to cry, but that hurt worst of it all. Holding onto hope I should've already let go of. Holding onto rope wrapped around my neck, waiting for that day. I felt comforted but pained. I felt sad, and just plain tired of feeling. I fell asleep that night holding a phone to my face, listening to his breathing.

my emotions are a seesaw
why don't you have a seat
take a ride with me
as we prepare for our final sleep
my head is spinning
like a top that just set alight
will you be my firefighter
and extinguish me every night
remind me I'll be fine

these feelings are unholy
question the essence that makes me more than boring
restless and unsatisfied, totally mystified
i am scared to die, but aren't I supposed to face my fears?
I can't make eye contact anymore
do you think death would accept my prayer?

you are the one thing I can't leave behind
so I'll hold your hand while you hold mine
why am I still so petrified?
is the lack there of a myth made up by the great divine?
who will answer these questions of mine?
I've been in line this whole **** time
well guys, I've got quite the mountain to climb
I should really get going before its my time

I woke up and your face was an inch away from mine
I pulled up your covers to make sure you were warm
And nudged your face over a couple of inches
I was content
Which is such a rare and treasured sensation
Almost as rare and treasured as you
At that moment you broke me out of my fantasy
You in your sleep kicked me in the knee
I kicked you right back
Because you're my bestfriend
And I'll always return the favor
Last night we were lying in the middle of the street in my neighborhood
Pointing to stars and making up their life story
Describing how they lived and how they died
Our limbs were entwined
We were warm despite the cold breeze
With every headlight that passed us
Every lingering stare
We laughed absurdly
Wondering what they must have thought
About two kids lying in the middle of the street
Legs tangled, at two in the morning

And yet you still wonder
Why everyone thinks we are dating

Loops feel cursed to me,
I've been living in them for God knows how many weeks,
I'd do anything to break the pattern,
anything to make them scatter,
I've been picking the scab on my chin for an hour,
You won't read my texts anymore,

Everything I eat,
no matter how sweet,
tastes sour,
Probably a side effect again,
Isn't it always in the end?
Just a side effect again.

I've been spelling words inside my head,
It makes me feel crazy but the patterns will save me,
Just make this all stop please,
I'm tired of this repetitive clicking,
It's really really itching,
I can't breathe

It's just the side effects again
They always say it is in the end.

I've heard people say countless times that Valentine's Day isn't easy for everyone

referring of course to the single people out there

but my name was never mentioned regardless of my relationship status,

because I was a special situation

three years ago to the day, my mother committed suicide

three long and somehow short years ago my mother took both her life, and a good chunk of mine

no chocolates

flowers

cards

or "I'm sorry"

can make me have a Happy Valentine's Day

on days filled with roses and kisses,

my day will be filled with sobs of regret and glimpses of similarities in mine and my mother's situation,

the desire for everything to stand still

on days filled with romance and anticipation you can find me trying my best to stay distracted, and failing at it one hundred percent.

on days of love, you can find me wishing for death.

How can a hand I haven't held in so long feel more real than my own?
How can the flashing of blurry images made up of fears and desires draw out more emotion than entire days passed?
How can a voice you should never hear speak new words again contradict all logic?
You can’t call them dreams; you can’t call them nightmares.
They are a newly evolved breed of unreality.
Silhouettes, and gentle lines, represent an entire human.
An entire life conveyed in simple, thoughtless strokes.
How can they control me that much?