no,what is shared between me
and my blades
is all but a secret.
late nights, alone,
blood stained fingers and
having to replace the pillow
case in the morning,
because my parents will never know
what i have started again.
and when they see the
commercials on TV,
they silently think of me.
.i've written so many poems.2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
about love and luck and the
unbearable sadness that surfaces
whenever i think about you.
but you isn't a person,
you is a metaphor for the
birds suffocating in the clouds and the
leaves fighting off the wind.
and when i see flowers
all i can think of is death;
because i am a poet,
and my kind of poetry is the
kind that keeps me up all night,
as i memorize the ceiling
and count every minute
until the sun rises.
it’s the kind that makes me
wish for a bridge because then
maybe i could finally be free.
my kind of poetry,
it’s the kind that kills me.
I would love to give upi.I would love to give up2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
'there's a second hand that holds mine, and stuffs the words back down my throat.'
her voice a crack--
sticks & stones breaking
between her teeth
but when she tries to find the sound
her pen runs dry
[can someone flip the switch to 'yes' or 'no'
i've been so de
& my head is saying 'maybe']
(i would ask myself,
but i don't trust liars)
she tries to string the words
down a thread
but they always c r u mb l e
(& the cinders burn
with the same old questions)
but when you turn
she'll be gone
there are rocks in her throat when she asks you for help.
the words grind to sand on her tongue.
smoke in her head
smeared across her hands
her fingers are broken;
o k e d
she reaches for some kind of
at the corner
& turn of each & every page
we called her memashe had salt skin,we called her mema2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
wrinkles that fell off her in waves
and seven greasy finger links with
diamonds at their tips.
tied to a wheelchair with
black licorice chains,
her stubby feet locked into
children’s sized shoes and gushing
with crimson at the souls.
she had ants tucked into the pockets
of her lungs,
her eye sockets bled with the
spirit of poetry and prose.
we found her sleeping,
caressed by a thick layer of
and enjoying a love affair
with the grim reaper.
when life and death fell in lovelife is so beautiful thatwhen life and death fell in love2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
death fell in love.
she set a trap and he got caught,
caged in her flower crowns
and toxic sweater sleeves.
their romance was a mountain,
with beauty tucked inside the tree trunks.
and when one was about to fall,
the other was right there to catch them.
so tell me,
how could two things so different
believe in each other so much,
when we can’t even do it ourselves?
starve, she saidone plus one is two,starve, she said2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
but me plus you equals crying,
slamming doors and regrets that
pound on the walls of the mind
until the day we both break.
i’ll be the rhythm you dance to
in the middle of the meadow,
you be the beat, the bruises left
on skinny thighs and black-burned collarbones.
leap through eternityi will sink my teeth into a supernovaleap through eternity2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
to let the stardust and
slide down my parched throat and
wash over my intestines,
like a pebble
drowning in the sound--
you're a subliminal messagei can list every nicknameyou're a subliminal message1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
you've ever called me as if
they were members of my family and i
can recall every time you’ve ever
sang in my ear during class. i know
how many times we’ve snuck away from our friends --
not because of any particular reason,
your heart just ached, longed
for that familiar sense of me.
or at least, i hope.
because you seem to feel the skin of
every other girl and you seem
to always be able to keep on
a conversation with them,
it's just impossible to feel anything towards
me and impossible to not
make me feel
something. anything at all
and everything at once.
or maybe you just don't know
to feel towards me, maybe your
mind is as much of a jigsaw
puzzle as mine is and all
you’re doing is trying to piece it
all back together.
i just wish we were able to help each other.
you told me thursday on the train
that you wanted to be normal.
that you thought he was perfect
and you were anything but.
but darling you continually fail
to see that in my
untitledi keep plant seedsuntitled1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
under my bed in hopes
that one day my
limbs might grow into trees
and you can climb through
the branches in your sleep.
don't open, dead insidei'm suicidal.don't open, dead inside1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
i'm emotionally inclined towards death
and the the edge of a bridge.
i wish for pills in my hand and i've
learned to swallow six at once. my
emotions are dead,
i can't cry anymore.
it's eighty degrees this december and
my sweater sleeves are sticking to my skin.
i can't show my arms anymore, so
i cocoon myself in fabrics to
try and hide all my ugly secrets.
the train station is a dangerous place
because sometimes it takes the stern
yell of a police officer to keep me
away from the tracks. i don't want to
kill myself in front of the boy who's
lost his will to live,
but my head is too loud and i can't
hear his screams.
i hate myself and i want to die.
i want to die.
i want to die.
but i sit in my bed and i study, eat, sleep,
wallow in my mistakes and find
excuses to get out of talking instead
of just cutting deep enough or
jumping off the ledge or
kicking the chair or
swallowing the pills.
i hate myself and i want to die, but i won't do anything about it.
you're just a question marki met you so long agoyou're just a question mark1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
but back then our bodies were made of metal
and nowadays they’re made of the blades of
grass and dirt settling
underneath my fingernails.
my fingers are having a hard time
reaching the keys and
my organs are shaking mostly because i haven’t
eaten in two days but also
because i’m worried about the things you're doing to yourself.
we didn’t meet very long ago at all but it feels like forever ago
and you say you don’t know me
that you don’t know anyone
but baby you're turning into a skeleton and i’m peeling back my skin
to try and reach my bones, just like you.
i hope you're happy,
i’m covering the hard wood floors now
the bits and pieces splattered.
they are calling it a suicide but i’m calling it
a way to see my brain and
just how dark it has become, and honestly
i don’t want you to try and see about your’s.
i’m mourning the loss of my heart and wish you weren’t either -
(even buildings eventually collapse)My skin is the canvas, my scars(even buildings eventually collapse)2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
and tattoos are stories;
bruises are just splashes of
colored sharpie against
the blank spaces, retelling
a moment I’ll never
There are thumb prints on my
wrists, and finger prints
around my arms, telling me
again and again
that I am not good enough
The sun on my arm, swirls and
all, tells of the struggle
in my heart, while the black
rays signify my forced
It’s worked long enough
to keep the questions
away, and the silence is
very much welcomed.
But even carefully constructed
buildings give way under
pressure, and for too
long, the pressure has been
crushing the support
beams around my
I still don’t know how long
it will be before this
3 a.m. isn't for youyou are a bottle of liquor,3 a.m. isn't for you1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
spilling out on the kitchen floor,
emptying quicker and quicker
until you can't take anymore.
and when i try to stem the flow,
to wipe your sorrow from the tile,
you try so hard to let it all go
when i just need you to stay awhile.
"i can't, i can't," you cried,
tears falling like rain from a cloud
"honey, you tried," i whispered, "you knew i'd
listen if you'd said your thoughts were this loud."
and i'll keep trying to understand you
even if your pain cannot be matched,
'cause darling, i know everything tastes new
without conscious thoughts attached.
Alivefarthest from my mindAlive2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
is the thought of turning back
and drowning in a sea of thoughts,
struggling for air -
i do not want my mind possessed,
with whispers of ‘never, never’
rustling within me like a taffeta skirt
across the floor –
i want to be alive,
not simply breathing –
a survivor, not a victim.
Starving sleep and apologies.My sleep is starving.Starving sleep and apologies.2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
It is shivering sweat like snow
across my shoulders as I sob scream
after scream against your skin;
"sorry, I'm so sorry,
go back to sleep."
I am sad
and struggling to stay
together but you slump
against my sickness
and hold me
umi'm rotten and not in a poetic way either.um1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
my lungs are black and dripping
with cigarette tar from my
the hair growing from my head
is thin and brittle like white strands of
thread, and my words are left dead
like animals on the side of the road.
a heart is no longer a heart
when it’s filled with anger like mine is,
a brain is no longer a brain when
all it feels is anxiety and that all-
familiar frustration that my body isn’t
a porcelain doll like it needs to be.
Hunger for beautyYou graduated from starvationHunger for beauty2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
tired of being tired.
It's the little things that
keep you awake;
like the bones that make you feel
the mirror even whispers
that you're perfect
you don't mind it
when your throat burns.
Today, I am DrowningSome days,Today, I am Drowning1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
in a tiny glass globe
to be carried away
on the wind.
breathes with the sea--
tangling about my ankles
on unlearning how to diethe space between intention andon unlearning how to die2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
inaction has been redefined. they say
the first step to sadness is
to be happy. the second step
is learning loss. they tell us
depression is an abundance of emotions
but everyone here is a balloon
deflated with time, a sun
dimming as years eat away years
and everything changes but
nothing's really different at all.
we drowned before we even saw
the sea, dreaming of that cemetery
a million miles deep; and still,
I cry for the people worth forgetting:
the girl who couldn't take enough
sleeping pills to live her dreams,
the boy so doped out on an inability
to live that he told us about his trips
to Jupiter and back, and
expected us to believe him. the girl
with a ghost smile named after the prayer
she was born to forget, the boy
who slept like an angel and cried like
a fallen, and me, me
choking on gravity and the ever-growing
weight of my own fucking inadequacy
tied tightly around my neck like a noose
not quite designed properly, right,
because I survived.
Questionssparrowchild;Questions1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
in the vestibule
of bracken and bargaining
and in your swan song
tell me the truth -
why does a sparrowchild
by now the bathroom tiles are stainedand i'm sitting hereby now the bathroom tiles are stained1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
slathered in water droplets and
a bright light about to
meet my skull.
ground breaking into
fourteen hundred hundred pieces.
the rain isn't rain anymore because
it’s stopping two inches
hits the ground
and my ankles are dry but
the rest of me isn't because my mom
always told me never to get
my feet wet so i don’t catch
and i'm only fourteen
episodes in and my
shoulders are too bony and
my fingers never touch
the broken bones scattered across the
bathroom tiles. i let a
broken machine control
my life and every single goddamn
day it disappoints me. numbers
can’t be low enough but
they only go lower and
lower. i’ve been
searching and waiting for the right words
to be written on the page
but all that comes out is scribbles.
my life a lie and i’m the one telling it.
the boy i used to write poems aboutTHIS POEM IS NOT ABOUT LOVE.the boy i used to write poems about1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
you took the posters off the walls for the first time yesterday,
moved the bed back into the corner and stocked up on that tea
you love but i’ve always disliked. opening
the blinds used to be a sin but now they drown the room with sunlight,
causing your hair to turn that ugly dirty-blonde color i absolutely hate.
last night, i heard from a friend you got the job at that fancy newspaper
and you’re finally going vegan - don’t let me forget to tell you your risk
of heart attack will double, maybe triple.
i haven’t gotten an email in twenty-four days. oftentimes,
you don’t realize you're falling apart because you're in the process of falling apart.
my mother came over to help me move into my new studio.
we pushed the bed (mattress, you claimed the frame) into the middle of the room
and put on new sheets. these don’t smell like you, not that
i could even smell-taste-hear-see-feel these days.
you stole my heart and bed frame an
For you, no more.I have spentFor you, no more.2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
most of my life holding my breath
above the waves,
just in case
they break me down
And I have spent
most of my life drowning in love
for hearts too full to home me,
propping myself up with cardboard
promises and sorry tarpaulins.
And I have spent
most of my life living for other
people; a doormat for woes and
loneliness; a spare body in their
bed at night.
I say no more.
These Romantic Ashes We Inhalei. I figured out why your veinsThese Romantic Ashes We Inhale2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
are blue, it's from injecting
those skyline hues, isn't it?
ii. I danced to jealously's harp
symphonies, because red could
stain your purity.
iii. Envy made us blood brothers -
you had to know what these
October superstitions were
doing to me.
iv. They made me a carnivorous lover,
I had to have you inside of me
whether you were dead or alive.
But I forgot that you were
the one who murdered my innocence.