zero.5. I think I'm afraid of sex.
It's terrifying that two people can fit together perfectly, without even really liking each other at all.
4. I'm afraid of the day I start replacing myself with somebody else in all of our pictures; of the day I'll see my reflection and wish I didn't have to.
3. I'm afraid of doctors, and medicine.
The first time I took lithium, I couldn't hold it down. So I locked the bathroom door and flushed the entire bottle.
The second time, I couldn't walk more than ten steps without falling.
Honestly, I'm just wondering why they use poison to purify me.
2. I'm afraid of the ocean.
I'm afraid of looking down one day, and not seeing the edges. Of there being nothing there.
I'm afraid of falling and having nothing to catch me.
There's already nobody. The ground is really all I have.
1. I'm afraid of breaking things.
Like, once, I broke my dad's trust in me.
Once I broke somebody's heart.
Once I broke my kindergarten teacher's favorite
IllusionOrange paints the immense sky.More Like This
Though there's vehemency, it's desolate. Why?
Orange embraces the hues of blue.
The penetrating orange, oh, what sentiment it brews.
When the color translates into emotions,
Dolour shatters my delusions.
A pensive meaning lies beneath the fallacious surface.
The despondent revelation to the truth which I suppress.
The poignant color paints my bleak canvas of a heart.
Loss of reason, elusion of reality, erasure of the start.
Escapism, the illusion of happiness, fear.
Emotions lack reason. It is unclear
Writing Up Side DownWriting upside down,More Like This
Tends to be different
Who decided right side up is
the right way, and who said
that upside down was wrong?
In that case, writing the
Wrong way is the fun way and
Righting the right way is down.
StartStartMore Like This
Paralysis, a chill,
I try to move towards you
but I can't. The film jerk backwards.
Apples blossom in their hands,
then fly and nest in green leaves,
The shattered glass melts, the head
falls backwards, no lines of blood.
The projectionist may figure it out one day
I try but ....a hand slowly opens, nothing there.
We must start there, smooth,
flat skin, then touch then heat.
The Walk of Utter ShameThe Walk of Utter Shame:More Like This
My face is hidden by a blackened mask,
As I am taken to stand before the crowd.
Ripped from my face and cast aside,
My features burn in the glaring sun...
"Who amongst you will defend this man?"
I hear a soldier call.
"None of us sir!" The crowd shrieks back,
As to my knees I fall.
"Shame him!" The soldier cries,
As they begin to pelt me with rotten fruits,
"Maim him!" the people scream,
As they kick at me with mailed boots...
I shudder and writhe beneath the torture,
Too pained to even scream in fear.
For this is the punishment that I deserve,
For shaming the honour that I hold dear.
In anger, in rage, in emotions so dark,
I've carelessly denounced the work of my siblings...
Now I lie, in battered penance,
For only pain can ease the shameful sting...
Never did I think that I would fall,
But pride is arrogant dissonance.
Through penitent pain and suffering,
I have learned the value of reticence.
"Allow me to accept my shame and offer my apologies..."
Tell herTell her she's pretty...More Like This
Because she doesn't think she is.
Tell her she's smart...
Because all of her mistakes make her feel stupid.
Tell her she's good enough...
Because she's been treated like she isn't...
Tell her she's amazing...
Because no one really thinks she is...
Tell her she's perfect...
Because she's incredibly flawed...
Tell her she's going to find a happy ending...
Because everything seems like it is going wrong...
Tell her she is worth it...
Because she feels worthless...
Tell her lies...
Because at this point she will believe them...
If you tell her the truth, she's bound to misunderstand.
Tell her lies. Go ahead.
Lie to me.
ShatterMy name on your lips.More Like This
My words on your tongue.
Thoughts dancing around me,
Keeping the mind young.
I am in your eyes.
Behind them you hide.
A one way mirror,
Sharp shards on both sides.
Shatter I will,
If I am told to.
Though break I cannot,
Without hurting you.
Surreal RealitySurreal Reality:More Like This
The tides that bind a fallen city,
Swirls of vision, animosity...
Lost beneath a silvered glass,
Watch and wait as hours pass.
You find yourself, now surreal,
Surrounded by clocks with a ticking squeal.
You walk to the kitchen, a hand you find,
A platter in which to place your mind.
The microwave dings, the toaster rings,
From the oven you pull, intestinal strings.
You stab with the knife, it ends in your head,
Place your mind into a toasted bread...
You walk to the car, you breathe in deep,
You look into your pocket; the bottle you keep.
You take a long swig, it's a magical drive,
Your soul falls asleep while you await to arrive.
Silence, broken silence,
Emptiness filled with eyes and ears,
Rainbows haunt and tear the skies,
Falling rain like bitter tears...
Broken and unspoken,
Suddenly you are bowed!
Your throat explodes with shards of glass,
It ends the life to which you vowed...
Each gurgle of blood that is caught on your lips,
The sputum you cough is fleck
we could be insane togetherwhat i would do to see inside that lovely head of yours.More Like This
to see all the gears, to see what makes it tick, click, or even whine.
sometimes i hope to see something turned backwards,
proof that you're not quite right in the head.
Because you see, love,
that might just make us soulmates.
to my young heartI haven't the thought to cry, myself. Yet my heart aches.More Like This
It aches and longs for something I'm never sure that I'll have.
Yet, somehow, I've clung to hope.
I've envisioned so many different scenarios, different scenes from a life that I'm sure isn't my own.
The life in those images is a lie.
Yet I wish for it.
I wish for it because it seems I've always done so.
It seems that I'll never escape the teardrops that go uncried.
I'll never escape the fantasies that take hold of me in my waking hours.
Or the dreams that come to me while I sleep.
I am a woman in mind, yet a child in body.
Such a contradicting existence, so many confusing aspects.
I doubt I'll ever fully understand myself.
But few truly do.
Dirt And DiamondsHow can we recognizeMore Like This
what happiness is,
what happines means,
when we do not know
what sorrow is,
how sorrow hurts?
How can we realize
how beautiful life is
how worth living a life is
when we do not know
what bereavement is
how certain death is?
How can we know
that love is a gift,
that to be loved is a gift,
when we don't know
what loneliness means
what to be hated means
How do we know a light shines bright,
when there's no shadow to compare it to?
Sometimes we need the dirt
to see diamonds shine brighter
She always fell for boys who needed saving.She always fell for boys who needed saving.More Like This
Giving them kisses in the dark
to numb their headache from
drinking too much and yet
not enough to kill lust.
She was always adored by boys, who,
if given the chance, would rebuild
the world for her.
But she wanted to be the heroine
and refused to see
she needed saving, too.
Lacklustre StardustPaint something withMore Like This
That hang just at
The tip of your tongue,
And cross the gaps
With your fingertips,
The way you used to do,
Before the stars fell
And your bones turned to ash.
There used to be solar flares
In your breath, and
An icy vacuum,
Longing to warm,
Behind your eyes,
Before you fell into
That stole your light.
Across the nothing
Of the cosmos,
Searching for what
You claimed to have
For the purpose of
Living in your past
(Before your stars fell).
No one will see
That the starshine you had
You cannot bear the thought
Of allowing your
Particles to scatter-
You cannot comprehend
Going to sleep.
Poisonous FearMy poisonous shadow of fearMore Like This
Glue-like hands and fingernails
Crawling up my swollen spine
Sinking into exposed brain
It chains itself inside
It binds me to its presence
Within a self-abusing mind
Within a body made of shiver
Nightmares broke my running legs
And made my eyes see light
A promise of unbroken world
That I can never have
A shattered personality
An intoxicated sanity
Addicted to my dread
I listen to its silent breathing
I am what it came for
I'm the monster that I fear
So sweetSomething so sweet...More Like This
In a cry for help.
That you never heard.
All alone in my room.
And I never told you what was on..
The inside of my mind is like a cage.
I'm trapped by my thoughts.
Entangled in my fears.
The ropes only pull tighter when..
I've lied to you and everyone I love.
There's nothing you could do to save me from..
The darkness seems to be closing in.
It's always there to remind me of how shitty I am.
I'm alone again.
A Fool For FairytalesWhy am I such a fool?More Like This
For dreaming about fairytale love stories?
For hoping that my Prince Charming will come,
to save me from the balcony
of desperation and despair?
Every little girl does as a child.
So, why am I such a fool?
I am a fool for...for falling for you.
The juicy red apple that just caught my eye,
the ugly duckling that never truly was a swan,
the beast that seemed so loving,
for something so terrifying.
You were my Prince Charming!
You were my saviour,
who got me to let down my golden hair!
You were my true love!
But this mirror of dreams and sweet delights
into a million pieces.
But it was not of the clock that struck twelve's doing,
You took what we had and broke it!
Breaking my heart within the next second of the new day.
We had something!
The perfect fitting glass slippers!
Although...I am the fool.
For believing that life could be a perfect fairytale.
For believing that everything was always going to be okay,
Potato ChipsThe other day I finally realized, as I was going to the pantry for a snack, that my mind tortures me; I stared at the plastic film as the light bounced off of it and played with the shine of the colors. The shades all communicating with each other, hints of apologies and gestures, tales of beration and derogatory statements. Red was the primary color. It was a dark, ground-like red. Hot, haughty, gawking at the other colors, flaunting its vibrant steadiness, all the while consuming the shallow shyness of black as it creeped around the edges, trying to make itself noticed, but only succeeding in making red even more vivacious. The yellow was round and bold, but not quite as bold as the red. It knew its place, and its limits, and this knowledge inevitably kept it in its shape. The white complimented it, being more friendly than the red and more outgoing than the black. It swirled and dipped around the yellow, flirting with its curves as it turned and pivoted in and out of vision. All ofMore Like This
For the both of us."I will do anything to make you happy" he said and I believed him.More Like This
As you sat there with your dirty blond hair, covering your crooked smile and those piercing blue eyes ... I felt like I belonged right where I was.
It's not possible for us to feel exultant for a long time, is it? And you truly couldn't make me better, no matter what you did and that's probably why you gave up in the end.
You left me there, when I needed you the most.
They always do ... don't they?
You told me that it wouldn't change a thing, then why does everything feel so altered?
I can still hear your laughter at night and feel your warmth finger caress my cheek.
I still sleep in your arms every night (even though I don't know where you are).
I wish I wanted you to go, but you are the only reminder I have of a time where I actually wanted to be alive.
How can I possibly let you go, when you are the only reason why I stay?
"You are the only one I have" he said and I believed him.
And therefore I did ev
HangingHanging...More Like This
...On a line.
Not literally, of course.
Waiting for a familiar voice.
Halfheartedly inserting a coin
Into the open slot
And picking up the receiver.
The cold metal matches your freezing fingers.
Hesitating while touching the keys of the dial pad,
You almost forget the number.
Finally entering the correct address,
You start to hang.
On a line.
Each long "beep" sound is like
A soothing bell to comfort your heart.
It hypnotizes you until you forget who you were even calling...
You are in love with waiting eternally.
You feed off of that sound,
Knowing that it's something you can surely depend on.
I think you left a piece of you in me.This tangled mess you call a heart,More Like This
daisy veins & sin;
She's bringing me down.
& you were merely shivering
pressing winter bones
against my sun-stricken mouth,
darkness searching for a home
buried in my lungs.
You whispered breathe me
lovely in the inhale/exhale
of carbon dioxide suicide.
She speaks only of you now,
lonely & mourning beats-
Crack open this damn ribcage;
A Book and TeaI'm used to not meaning much to anyone.More Like This
I'm used to being alone -
And really, I can't complain.
My solitary lifestyle suits my personality,
Observing, watching the world pass by,
Curled around my book and cup of tea -
Maybe a little judgmental,
Maybe a little sad.
But you know, it gets lonely.
I'm my own best friend, it's true-
But sometimes I want to call someone
And watch a movie, or just sit around
And do nothing in particular-
Just sharing air and experiences.
Then again, who am I kidding.
I'm not good at the friend thing.
So I shall continue with my book
And my cup of tea with tinges of judgement
Watching the rain dripping down the windows
With a smile and a sigh.
don't panicthis is the way i eat continents.More Like This
the flicker of the lightbulb right before it bursts,
that sound it makes before the life is taken straight
from its last spark.
let me eat this lightbulb, maybe it will concave my
insides, form my own grand canyon. no tourists
allowed, no pictures please. just let me myself and i
visit it over and over, the only wonder of the world
its encompassing is mine.
taste the way i am digging my pen into this page.
this is me telling the truth, this is when the
dinosaurs became extinct, this is when chernobyl
made her appearance. this is the way world war ii
started this is the off beat sound of the death of mlk
or jfk. this is how i'm crumbling like the twin towers,
call myself the terrorist.
nyquili don't think you'll ever understand how i cried that night. it was the way youMore Like This
try to stifle something before anyone notices. the way a newborn flees the
womb. the sound of a million knuckles cracking. the way i slither and slink in
my own stigma.
an homage to my homelandim just a skinny white boy from texasMore Like This
all the skinny white boys
use to be my exs
in the south, its a gun
that deals with the exs,
here it's my mouth that
kills, blinds and hexes.
if we're being religious
we should have left you in the
fuck you, amen,
you treated me like a
mermen, their ken,
when i drown you in the lake
it's called a bap.tism. right. then.
you were just robin
who fucked over
now i guess you're a freeman,
that was lake was full of semen,
guess liaison was your way of playin
excuse. me., dog.face.
its your existence i've
look at my paleface
i've been to
we fucked in the bed of
your nineteen years of
you're the king of thirst
so get in line to drink first,
don't ask God to bless this
fucking rehearsed verse.
you were in the game but
now you need to disburse,
we use to be in love but
now its just the inverse.
if you miss my face,
just look around in distaste,
all that empty space
i'm managing t
UndeservedI don't deserve to be an artist.More Like This
I don't know how to hold deep meaningful conversations with strangers.
I don't lament at night about a lover I have lost.
I don't watch the white smoke ebb into darkness.
I don't spend lonely nights admiring the true beauty of the world.
I don't sleep restlessly from the truth of suffering within this world.
I don't lie through my smiles or struggle to create them.
But I do think I am a writer.
I am completely, irreparably damaged.
I cry all night over old words and emotional baggage.
I weep over my lost innocence.
I spend nights wishing for skin against my own
I long for insomnia to inspire me.
I beg for worlds to collide so I can breathe.
So am I writer really?
Or just another misguided artist?
9.7i am but a weary passengerMore Like This
might be missing me -
can tell whether this is just a famine
or an infestation,
it's strange how that works -
maybe you are lying beside me
or above me
but i am suffocating -
not one of those things that
you can forget
easily, not quite like -
we have the softest heartbeatsi don't know what it means when you sayMore Like This
you don't know what i mean.
the implications of my every sentence stain the
atmosphere like neon lights and i'm left wondering
how you can still be so clueless. how after
all this time. after all the sentences we traded
with each other. after every minute that makes
the miles smaller. you still don't get it. how
you could still not get me.
this is the part where i need to remind myself
that you were never mine.
you've never been anyone's because there isn't
a sentence simple enough to make you stay so
three words and eight letters won't leave you
breathless in between my bed sheets. it won't make
you feel the same. and there isn't an idea complex
enough to make you stumble into love, because
to figure out that the world is so much more than
black and white would be admitting you've been
wrong all along.
we're not the people we once were, but maybe our
expectations are far too high.
we became an atlantic tragedy2verse i:More Like This
We first met in 1912
April 14, the ocean smelt
beautiful. Just like your face.
and eyes and skin. the crashing waves
mimicked your hips crashing into mine;
mimicked you crashing the party in my mind
this boat crashing against the tide's
bone structure. Rocking side to side.
it was my first time; I was scared as hell
it was your first time, I couldn't tell
disaster could be seen from two nautical miles,
but I was too blinded my the curve of your smiles
in case you forgot, your clothes sank to the floor;
your body sank into mine; my heart sank into yours.
in case you forgot, your clothes sank to the floor;
your body sank into mine; my heart sank into you.
(innocence's maiden voyage)
i cruised my hands
across your thighs
49 minutes to midnight.
"make a wish." Said you.
"but it already came true.
what else could i want
when all i want is you."
too much crashing.
too much sinking.
too much splashing.
Not enough th
Please, forgive me.Like lies, you saidMore Like This
I make breathing the cosmos
through rose colored lungs
look easy- vertebrae stretched
toward the moon.
& I'm hanging my bones
out to dry, carving Saturn's
rings into my wrists- my
star burst ankles.
I swore then I'd keep my
black tongued poetry
& uprooted limbs far,
far away from you.
But, like lies, galaxies,
& night fevers, you
are the destination
on my star map skin.
HeroineSometimes,More Like This
she tries to fall into the night,
tipping her strawberry heart
like a tea bag into hot waters-
always scolding herself
kissing ocean beds.
Her hips, tides rolling
towards the antagonists
of myths & legends.
with a thousand leagues
of sea behind her eyes,
she will always save herself.
CavalierYou sat with one hand on the dashboard,More Like This
your other one shaking,
reluctantly dancing with a cheap cigarette,
that you were simply burning,
because something needed to die.
We didn't look each other in the eye,
except in the rear view mirror,
the irony not yet reflected.
I will never forget that six thousand mile stare,
many times your age shining from the endless deep,
the weight of everything you carry
written in ruptured veins.
"Old ghosts dancing again," I said.
"This is not very good," I whispered,
tightened throat and eyes aflame.
You echoed, and then you were gone.
I remained for a while, in that wreck of a Chevy,
marooned in a landscape of broken plastic,
trees of straws and cavernous containers,
all your books and other secret escapes.
To the CoastLooking darkly to the back of the car,More Like This
I see ruin in her eyes.
We pass another town of murderers
cradled in the pines.
This is the way to the coast,
and it is her birthday.
The sky is ashen and pregnant.
I snap a picture of your hand in mine
to somehow make this real.
this makes the moment unforgettable.
She sleeps back there,
wearing my clothes
Here comes the Devil,
but we lose him
over the hill.
Here comes God,
but we lose him
at the sea.
short-term memory.and you'll never forget:More Like This
When you realized that everybody dies alone.
When you didn't take your eyeliner off one night, so in the morning
your eyes would look as hollow as you felt.
When you spent a year blacking out the sad endings in your books.
(When you wished that life could also work like that.)
When you learnt that "We need a break" means "I am going to break your heart."
When you fell in love with the stars, and the way he says "us."
When he told you, "More than just a long time."
The first time you hung up to the sound of your father laughing.
When you walked home from a party in January, and couldn't remember
if you were still breathing.
When you begged him to let you be sad, and he smiled and said, "No."
When you saw the irony of drawing trees on paper – and how alive you've felt
after being sure you were dead.
By Fifty,I'll publish or perish;More Like This
find someone to cherish;
move someplace phenomenal;
display an abdominal
physique to inspire,
which I shall acquire!
. . . Or perhaps, just retire.
Last chance to seeIt's a odd kind of feelingMore Like This
and an odd kind of peeling
the day you kiss your former self
that decisive goodbye,
then quickly rip your lips
from the parting.
There is no time frame,
no milestone markers
at the logical divisions.
One day you simply wake up empty,
a slight rumble in your snakeskin stomach,
then nothing but the seeping quiet.
Your flaking blood surfs the sloping light shafts
searching for new ground.
It is the last day, you see.
The furrows may remain,
but the uncertain air
chromaWe were merely children when the stars came.More Like This
They rained down from the sky in a burst of light, like shards of glass pouring down from the heavens. Supernovas blooming in the night sky, petals raining down onto the barren earth - angels, falling with their wings sheathed, glowing, as they glided down. We watched, starstruck, as the glow overtook us - we were mesmerized. We waited with bated breath as the meteors landed, the celestial light subsiding as dark forms started to pick themselves up from the dust.
They moved towards us with an otherworldly grace, their steps leaving no marks on the earth as they descended upon us. Frozen to our spots as they approached, our bodies simply unresponsive in their wake. We were paralyzed. They stretched out their wings, embracing us in a softness unimaginable - a polymerization of silky feathers made of pure light, like a soft touch of a rose petal - and suddenly, our eyes were opened. The world was the same, yet so new, as it was washed with a gl
NecromancyShe replaces her wristsMore Like This
with the sharp thorns
of roses and slurred
as she speaks
in an old tongued
language that whispers
She collects stars
on her knuckles,
& her dust eyes
are sad moon nebulas
starved for love.
But, the kisses
she sinks into the curve
of her lover's ribcage
by night, warm that
Awesome.....? || Prussia x Shy!Reader".....And then I was like FIVE METERS OF AWESOMENESS!!"More Like This
"What did she say, mon ami?"
"She screamed and ran away..."
You couldn't help but smile as you eavesdropped on two of your classmates's lie of a conversation, as you "read" your book. Why a lie? Your happen to know that the loud-mouthed albino was with your best friend yesterday evening, cooking pancakes and waffles.
You were smiling, but not only because of that little lie, but also because that last guy was actually right next to you, well, he was sitting on his desk, really. You forced yourself to turn your attention back to your story, but the thought of the gorgeous albino next to you, on whom you may or may not be crushing hard, kept you far away from your goal.......
"Hey, [Name]~!" you heard a soft, small voice call your name.
You lifted your gaze from your book, just to see your Canadian best friend right in front of you. You smiled.
"Hey, Mattie~!" you chirped.
"Yo, awesome-but-not-as-awesome-as-me fri
Monster Club (Chapter 8)More Like This
“Abraham, wake up.” Abraham heard the voice, but refused to open his eyes. He groaned and rolled over in bed, trying to ignore the sound coming from the foot of his bed.
“Leave me alone.” Abraham groaned in response. There was a pause and there was the slightest sound of movement. Suddenly there was a squeaking and creaking sound as a weight suddenly hit the bed. Unwilling to open his eyes, but becoming more and more concerned, Abraham turned his head away and rolled over onto his back.
“Wake up, you silly willy.” Abraham cracked his eyes open at this. The sound of that voice was in no way familiar to him. It sounded like a little girl…but what was a little girl doing in his room? He opened his eyes and looked to the other side of the bed. Kneeling on the mattress next to him! She was wearing a blood red sundress and her little body was smooth and clean. She had black hair that feel down to the bottom of her neck and her eyes were a familiar d
Immiment Menace She clung to the crowbar as if it was her last remaining life. The power was cut, so nothing could be seen within a few feet radius. She couldn’t even see her hand in front of her face as it waved. The power had been off for at least fifteen minutes, and it had been nearly ten minutes since somebody had broken into the apartment building. Every so often she would hear a scream and then a gunshot. It gave fear for her life as she grabbed the crowbar and hid behind a wall in her own apartment. Closing her eyes, she tried to relax; however, it wasn’t working all that well. Thoughts kept running through her mind about if the intruder found her. Would she have enough time to smack them with the crowbar before the gun went off? Would the intruder just skip her door if they don’t hear anything?More Like This
That question as answered rather quickly as the door to her apartment was knocked off its hinges after a few gunshots to it. Her breath hitched in her thro
Tabitha's missionIt was a cold night as I was finally going to see through to my mission. I've spent long nights observing their patterns ready for the best attack. A shadow appeared behind me, I almost kick it but stopped when I realized knew who it was.More Like This
"Why are you always late?"
"I'm here now aren't I?"
"Anyways,-" I noticed he had on his mask and snatched it off of his face.
"Hey!" he grumbled, as the mask revealed Koal underneath. "I need that just in case my illusions give out."
"I know but I wanted to give you something and this mask is getting in the way."
Tabitha kissed him then slipped the mask back on his face.
"I just wanted to thank you for staying with me through this mission."
Koal blushed and then stammered.
"I think we need to go now, so get close."
Standing right by him they were cloaked in Koal's illusion to fight the bandits they were told to defeat.
Splitting up Koal took the left side of their camp as Tabitha took the right side. At first she heard a couple of muffled sounds and a
Love Bites!More Like This
"Good evening miss."
Claire turned around to face the voice. She had been so caught up in the festivities around her that she hadn't noticed anyone behind her. After all, there was so much to see! The entire ballroom was packed full of lavish party guests. Buffet tables lined the walls and men danced with their ladies in the middle of the room with elegance and grace. The overhead glass roof exposed the glowing full moon to the party guests and the stars twinkled madly like morning dew in the early morning. The English countryside stood before them in all its splendor just outside of the castle walls. Claire had been entranced with the sights since she had walked in…but now the sights had begun to grow boring and the brilliant lights and colors dimmed slightly. The surprise of the voice behind her had brightened her spirits a little.
The one who had spoken took her by surprise. He was a tall young man with black hair and deep brown eyes. He had on a finely tailored suit. A black jacket
One MoreThat girl has gone to piecesMore Like This
There is nothing you can do.
She takes her razor,
And makes a cut upon her wrist.
The blood just drips out,
And she'd rather feel this pain
Than the pain that's inside her chest.
Nothing will ever be right
As she makes another cut.
This poor girl needs help,
But no one seems to notice.
Every day there is a smile on her face,
But inside she is dying.
No one will ever know the pain that she feels.
She's better at lying,
Then she is telling the truth.
Her scares are hidden
Under the sweater that she wears.
Forever there as a reminder,
That life is not perfect.
She says she'll make just one more cut,
Because she's tired of hurting herself.
Just one more, and she's be happy,
But maybe one more is going too far.
My heart will marry the darknessA dainty breeze brushes my cheekMore Like This
Fingertips trembling at the keys
To be on my own facing the world
Swimming in the deepest of seas
Music flows, drenching my being
Pulling my heart down like an anvil.
It's heavy, almost unable to carry;
Hard to tackle this losing battle.
Every attempt to move the anvil;
Leaves a trickle of beads of sweat;
Makes my hands rough and callused;
A single try moves me back a step.
Till the weight exerts even more on me
It's almost painful to hold, to carry.
Soon my heart lets go and tumbles down...
Down to the darkness that it will marry.
Blood or Tears?Screaming would feel good right now.More Like This
Trapped in an ineffectual existence
Where the only people I talk to
Might as well not even exist,
I want out.
Screaming would release the tension.
Or maybe something deeper,
Like the sight of blood
Spilling down my arms.
Of the sudden inexplicable pain
Carved into my flesh.
Screams and blood
Are better than these pointless tears.
Who the hell decided to make
More acceptable than
If I screamed though,
I'd be reprimanded.
"Don't scare us"
"Nothing's really wrong"
So it's nix on the screaming.
But surely a little blood wouldn't be amiss?
It wouldn't bother anyone.
I'd much rather
Kixine-Secret SantaThere she was, alone again. Sitting in that dark corner, with her body language screaming "Don't come near me!" Kixine Shane, the quietest, most intriguing girl in the academy. Never spoke in class, or to anyone else at school, even when threatened with demerits.More Like This
Her long brown hair always hung down in her face, preventing anyone from seeing her features. Sometimes, though, a tantalizing glimpse of large green eyes peered through. It was anybody's guess why she even bothered to come to this fine arts academy.
Remi slowed his pace as he walked by her corner. On impulse, he stopped next to her and re-tied his shoelaces. As he did, he caught a glimpse of a notebook. Kixine was writing madly, as if her very life depended on every word.
"Do you like Christmas?" he asked suddenly. It was a week before break, and everyone was talking about their plans so it wasn't a completely random question, right?
The scribbling stopped, and she turned her page quickly, and began writing again. Hastil
The Tortured Woods"Tiger?" I yelled, waiting for the orange beast to come purring out from under a nearby couch. He liked to play this game with me, hiding under a piece of furniture and then jumping out at me when I went to get the food bag. It had been fun the first time, and cute the second, but no longer. Thankfully Bill and Jenny were coming back early tomorrow and I would not have to deal with their damned cat any longer. A few more days of dealing with Tiger and I would forever be paranoid of all cats. Tiger had this look about him that made my spine tingle. He liked to stare at people in the neighbourhood, watch them from his perch in one of the old, gnarled trees that stood in every yard and lined the old, cobbled streets. It had been like that from the beginning, when Bill and Jenny moved in a few years back. I got used to it eventually, but it still bothered me from time to time.More Like This
I walked throu
pupillaeIt was only two months ago when you had the procedure. You can no longer remember why. You know only that you must have liked the idea of your eyes tasting shapes. You had money. Maybe that was all the reason there ever was.More Like This
For a month, your life was normal. Your brain was still learning to process the new input. Sometimes you would vaguely taste oranges when sitting at your computer. Or catch yourself thinking that the letter O seemed sour. Or avoid a restaurant that served food on oval plates, because some ovals taste like bad coffee.
You can't pinpoint the day you first spent over an hour staring at squares. You had not meant to. It was just, they tasted kind of like cake, but like a better cake than any you'd ever had. It was hard to pull away.
Nor can you pinpoint the day you first threw up at the sight of a 32º angle. It tasted like urine and skunk. You are today afraid you will encounter another
Never Let Him Look South WestThe distance between Dublin and Boston is approximately 3000 miles. You told me this when you were staring south west with the kind of madness I have only seen in sailor’s eyes when they lived in lighthouses too small for their giant ship dreams. It should have worried me, that glint in your eyes. I just dismissed it as one of your navigational tantrums.More Like This
When we went to the pub later that evening, you told me I should have the fish and chips, but the way you like it, with more vinegar and no tartar sauce. I said that made it too salty, and you told me that was how real sailors ate their fish. My reactions always were slow to your behavior. I believe the expression ‘at sea’ was applied more often than not when you spoke.
I never thought that the walks you mentioned on the beach when we were children had any more to the idea than the romance of it all. So when you told me you belonged to the sea, I thought you were talking about your soul.
It never truly meant anything
i had an out-of-body experience.I had an out-of-body experience at the age of thirty-one.More Like This
Every year between the ages of ten and eighteen, I sent a letter to NASA. I told them a little bit about myself, the same general description year after year, and always insisted that despite my medical condition, I would one day love to sail through the stars. My dream was to be out there in the universal abyss, exploring every unknown corner until we knew all that we could.
Art would taunt, “Sick kids don’t go to space” before Mom slapped the back of his shoulder with a spatula.
NASA was as nice as they could be, but the bottom line was that we all knew I couldn’t do it. The spaceship would need to have extra space just for the amount of medication and equipment I’d have to bring along, and that was if I could even survive the zero-gravity environment. Whoever wrote the responses encouraged me to keep dreaming, and boasted about donations the association made to various sickle cell charities.
Love Letters On the TrainDear Stranger,More Like This
I'm leaving this post-it tucked in the side of the train-seat. If you're reading this, you've seen it. I've seen you sit here every few Monday mornings, sometimes tapping a bent, unlit cigarette against your thigh, sipping from your tea (who brings a tea cup onto a train anyway?); sometimes staring at the rain outside, or reading your well-worn, beaten copy of Jane Eyre (I hate that you fold the corners down - it's bibliophilic abuse. I wish the book would papercut you to defend itself a little, but I digress).
You seemed so sad this Monday morning past. Please smile again. I love it when your eyes catch the light of something I'm unaware of, something silently and intimately your own; a secret from the world that makes everything all the more meaningful to you.
- The Passenger
I'm not in the habit of reading post-its from strangers. I found a love-letter hidden in a newspaper once, that the author forgot or was too afraid to send. It made me sad to think
dear teen meDear Sarah,More Like This
Remember that time you tried to top yourself by hiding under the covers? That was hilarious. I remember you tugging at the edges of the blanket and praying, without a shred of scientific evidence, that the lack of oxygen would be enough to kill you. You sat under there for something like fifteen minutes before you gave up and went to make a sandwich. But while you were under there, choking a little on your pillow because you never washed your sheets, I remember you thought someone was watching. Someone who understood your suffering. Someone who understood you.
Kid, that was me. And I've got two words for you: man up. Life can get a whole lot harder than this. Before too much longer, it's going to. And by the time you get to my age, you're going to be glad.
Why were you
love is coming home--i don't write about God.More Like This
i don't write about God because it's writing about love, it's writing about faith, it's writing about trust and hope and belief and pain, the kind of gut-wrenching betrayal you feel when you've given up and you're waiting for someone to save you, only nobody ever does.
and who else are you going to blame?
it's easy to write about a God you don't believe in. it's easy to pour out all your hate and anger and hurt and deepest, darkest broken fears and fling them from your fingertips and scream, this is not God! it's easy to believe in nothing.
it's not easy to believe.
believing is opening yourself to the pain. it's letting go and falling back with your eyes closed, your heart in your throat because you can't see whether there's anyone waiting to catch you. and what if you hit the ground? what if there are no hands waiting to embrace you? what if there's nobody waiting at the beginning, when you finally turn around ready to try again; what if there's
to Oregoni dreamt of you last night, my body cocooned in the white silk once mouthed by your lips. i let the world dim away under my eyes and ears and found you hiding underneath the drape of my mind.More Like This
you were coming from Oregon.
"Oregon! out of all the places," i said. "you were living in Oregon after all this time."
and you pulled onto my street in a red oldsmobile just like you said your daddy lent you and you found me near the honeysuckle bushes, the ones that grew like wild-fire round here. you plucked the ones i had in my hand and put them in my mouth. they were so sweet, just like you.
he was quick to find you. he smelled you from the house-- the house i didn't want, full of things i didn't need, frothing with people i didn't love. he never forgot your scent of honey and spice that had kindled with every inhale just after i'd disappeared the summer before. he shoved you against the wire fence and wrung his hands in your shirt and told you to get away.
"leave us the fuck alone
Hey YouHey you.More Like This
With the perfect smile,
Even if it hasn't been seen
In a little (or long) while.
I hope you're feeling okay.
And I think you're
Doing really great today;
You are one less day away
From your perfect tomorrow.
Those Green Eyes (Or: Don't Lie to Your Kid)Those green eyes -More Like This
The green of joy
The green of hope
The green of love and acceptance -
Were always full of lies.
They first lied when I said,
After a nightmare at four am
When I was too small to reach a light switch,
“Will you ever leave me?”
And those eyes said,
Why did those green eyes
Shut when I needed them most?
"Are you okay?"
Would be a red line
That I would etch into myself
Those green eyes melted.
Those green eyes did shine
And I knew what it was -
I was young, not stupid -
But I indulged the lie,
For those green eyes.
"Will it get better?"
I asked one sunny Saturday
At ten in the morning
And those green eyes looked away;
“And you’ll be here forever?”
There were no words.
I made up my own affirmative.
Those green eyes -
When they saw
How I’d rubbed myself raw
RelapseHere we go again.More Like This
Another panic attack,
Just when I thought I was done.
Well, ain’t it fun,
To be a nervous wreck?
Only I’m a big kid now.
To be the resident
When you’re not beautiful.
God, I sound emo.
And so maybe I am
(by definition, at least)
But I feel like a sham –
What am I to you?
Would you care
If I lived out my dark little fantasies?
Got swallowed by the dark seas,
Of my soul?
Would you care
If I went back to the blade
That you forbade
Me to seek solace in?
If you knew what went on in my head,
A million different ways
To make me dead,
Would you tell me to just
‘Not feel down’ anymore?
If I could stop feeling this way,
Stop thinking like this?
Anything You WantI could write you a sonnetMore Like This
But, well, I’m no poet.
Fourteen lines of words,
That only mean as much
As you believe they do
My love for you.
I could sing you a song,
But, no, that’s all wrong.
Someone else’s words,
Or even my own,
How you make
I could draw you a portrait,
But, no, wait,
Art isn’t my forte.
No pencil could show
Your eyes glow.
I could take you away,
But, no, we could just lay,
Here for forever.
And no vista
Could ever compare
I could give you my heart,
But, no, let’s not start
On how bad a gift
That would be.
Let me just say,
My dear, today,
I love you, just how you are.
Summertime (For the Quiet Kids)People think I’m lonely,More Like This
People think I’m sad.
I’ve been called lowly,
I’ve been called mad.
There are worse things
I could be than quiet,
There are more harmful
Things I could do,
Just because I’m different,
Doesn’t mean I’m not right too.
Books are my buddies,
My four walls are my friends.
Green Day are my preachers,
AC/DC are my teachers,
Dancing out of my speakers.
I talk with my pen
And I sing from the soul,
Sometimes it’s diamond bright,
Others, it’s black as coal.
Summer is here,
I can feel it
Sweating into my pores,
And whilst some might go for beaches,
I go for so-called bores.
So when you see someone,
Nose in a book,
With a faraway look,
Don’t pity them;
For they are in their own kind of sunshine.
How to Court a FeministIf you hold the door open for me,More Like This
I hope it's because it's a decent thing to do
And nothing to do with my gender.
If you buy me a drink,
Expect me to do the same for you.
I'll cook for you
(If you don't mind burnt food)
And I'll clean for you
(If you'll return the favour).
Not because I'm a woman,
But because it's a nice thing to do.
If you're nice to me,
It's not a ticket for sex.
If I'm nice to you,
Sex doesn't always come next.
If we go for a meal,
I want to split the bill.
I don't expect you
To sing to me,
Whilst climbing through my window sill.
I don't care if you've had sex or not,
As long as it's the same for me.
I don't want diamond rings,
Don't get down on one knee
I don't owe you anything
And you owe me nothing.
My gender is not entitlement,
And neither is yours.
If I'm drunk, I can't consent,
And I'll love you more for not doing it.
If you hit me, I'll leave you,
And if I hit you, it's just as wrong.
If I cry in front of you,
I don't expect you to fix everything.
If you cry
Tears in the dust~Tears in the dust~More Like This
One tear fell.
That's all I remember happening in that previous moment, before I found myself quickly latching onto his blue jeans, refusing to let go of my Father. I was trapping him in my grasp. I felt the rough material sink deeply into the palms of my tiny hands, but even with that knowledge, and despite that, I knew that I no longer cared about the discomfort of myself-- all I wanted was for him to stay. To stay with me.
I couldn't tell if he was looking down at me or not, but he had stopped moving. He knew he was trapped, between the open door and the small weeping mess below him. He could either fly out of the door into a fresh start, or stay with this small child, whom was crying for him to stay. I didn't want him to leave.
"Daddy...don't leave me..." Mumbling my words, I hope I got the right ones across to him. I felt my Father flinch, before looking up at him, my eyes only projecting a messy and blurred vision of him.
His own blue eyes, as I ushered those
I AmI am the shadow, and I am the lightMore Like This
I am the sunlight, and I am the night
I am the battle, and I am the fighter
I am the water, and I am the fire
I am a raindrop just ready to fall
I am the world, and yet…
No one at all.
Mr MrWith words I cannot utter,More Like This
not even to silence.
You cross my mind,
and hold my heart.
With the pain it all brings,
I don't even notice.
You're the drug that I crave,
Addicted to the numbness.
The perfect melody,
a chorus stuck in my head.
I'm lost with you,
drowning in your fire.
You're all I wanna see,
Dreaming when I'm awake.
I need a way,
just to escape.
AnorexiaMeet a girl named No One, with a heart of shattered stoneMore Like This
Staring at the other girl, the one that's not alone
Girl with skin that glistens, with the eyes of crystal seas
Grin of shining diamonds and a laugh like a disease
Flashes just a glance and soon, she's every trouble's cure
She has everything… and No One's off to be like her.
Eating turns into a crime, she'd rather be away
Thrusting fingers down her throat to make herself okay
Watching as her very bones are seen behind her flesh
There she drowns in tears, for she has not yet seen success.
Minutes turn to hours, and these hours turn to days
Every moment slipping, slowly fading into grey
Rapidly, her body turns to nothing but her bones
As she fights for beauty, as she battles for the throne.
Broken hearts must learn to beat, and this she came to know
Learning it the hard way when her heartbeat grew too slow
Yet, she somehow managed still to shine from what's within
Lying in her casket with her hidden, unseen sin.
Final thoughts ins
In a Little Girl's MindThere sits the girl with the things in her eyesMore Like This
Monsters, destruction, and sweet butterflies
Hopscotch and daisies, surrounded by screams
Beautiful dresses now torn at the seams
Crayons and paintbrushes, villains and grins
Young, gladsome innocence, hatred and sins
Little red houses on roads left to fade
Gorgeous moonlight shining off of the blade
Blood pouring out as she cries her own name
Knowing she's forced to take each bit of blame
She could have stopped it and left it behind
All of these things in her troubled young mind
She could have saved them if she dared to try
Rather, though, she left herself there to die.
Now, others watch as she sits on the ground
Keeping their distance and letting her drown
In her own worries and things she won't tell
Waiting for her mind to kill her as well…
Insert creative title here.sometimes I hate the ideaMore Like This
I rather eat the autumn
skies crushing cold air between my molars
and hiding shaky hands
between pages of dictionaries
and clickclickclicking sounds of typewriters
you asked me why I wrote poems
on the soles of my shoes
and I told you
it was because I wanted to
imprint myself on the earth
then I can create beauty
even if I am not
Society Is Ugly.Society is ugly.More Like This
Beauty is defined by
How you act.
Not by the number on the
Starving doesn't work.
Purging doesn't work.
Pills don't work.
The girl you see
In the mirror is
Just the way she is
Don't get upset because
You don't match up
To the media's
Cutting won't work.
Crying won't work.
Dying won't work.
Society is ugly.
GayI am gay.More Like This
I'm not a disease, I'm not a problem
I'm not an affliction
I don't need treatment.
I don't need help
I'm not sick
I'm not confused
I'm not a sin.
I am gay.
I'm your daughter
Your co worker
A complete stranger
I am gay.
I need love, just like you
I need smiles
I need support
I need a hug
I need a friend
I need a family
I need acceptance
I need understanding
I need you
I am gay.
I know what love is
I know what pain is
I know what hate is
I know what life is
I am gay.
And I need you to love me
The same way you loved me before you knew
I am gay.
And I have experienced hate
From more people than just you
I am gay.
And I wont change.
I wont give up.
I wont back down.
I wont pretend.
I wont lie.
I wont deny.
I wont hide.
I wont hurt.
I am gay.
And that's okay.
All In Your HeadSoft spoken words at midnight, but she's not really there. Yet it continues, day after day, month after month. An endless cycle that you're bound to repeat no matter how many times you tell yourself she's gone.More Like This
Get it together.
Cherished memories that you can't seem to forget no matter how hard you try. And you try, so fucking hard. But at least when you pretend, the wounds don't hurt so bad. They don't burn and ache and make your vision go red.
Get it together.
So you focus on nothing, her, everything. It doesn't matter. You mutter to yourself, to her, to the shadows. And they respond, they shift, morph, drag you down until you're no more. They suffocate your lungs until you're filled with them. Filled with shadows and her.
Get it together.
Time passes faster, slower, sometimes it doesn't move at all. You're stuck until the next time because there is no in between. There's no stop, pause, no intake of breath. Nothing but a constant hum of silence and screaming. So
Bearing it AllAuthor John Green stated once that "Humans tend to measure time within the framework of important events…The event that we're counting…away from is the defining moment of these people's lives and it reshapes their relationship to the world so completely that it also reshapes their understanding of time." During my "before" I was a dancer; ballet, jazz, and tap. It was everything to me and my dream at the time was to someday dance on Broadway. During one of my classes, while doing battements, it suddenly felt as of my hip had popped out of its socket, causing me to fall to the ground. It didn't hurt at the time, but I still sat out for the rest of the class and went to the doctors the next day. The first trip to the doctors was quite uneventful. I was told that it was probably nothing more than a strained thigh and to just take it easy for two weeks, and if the pain is still there go back to the doctor. That was fine and I did as told, until one day in gym while playing DDR I somehow maMore Like This
FrostI am devouring chaos,More Like This
chasing it down with winter's chill.
Spare me your fingerprints,
summer's lovechild. Those knowing owl eyes
have me second guessing the wild churning
in my bones. You are the sleep that sweeps
my eyelashes, drowning me in my own daydreams.
When was it...
that you plastered yourself to my ribcage?
FrostbittenWinter is her favorite time of the year.More Like This
It's beautiful. Silver and blue dance around with one another in a waltz of freezing passion as snow and ice douse the land in a blanket of boreal glamour. Glass windowpanes become easels for falling snowflakes, frost etching into the smooth surfaces in intricate and unique patterns.
Winter has always been her favorite time of the year, and it always will be.
It is not because of Christmas--no, even though she loves the holiday, it is not what sparks her strong fondness for the star-colored blanketing across the land. Her infatuation with the snow and ice and everything cold has to do with something that most people don't truly believe in.
A boy whom she met long ago.
She still remembers the day like it was yesterday. Running around in the forest, laughing and tasting the snowflakes as they fell down into her parted lips and melting immediately on her tongue. All bundled up as a precaution, even though the winter has always been kind to h
i begin and end with you.How do you go about explaining love to someone who has never felt it? How do you put into words the sweetness of the first kiss or the bitterness of the first goodbye or the hundred pinpricks of emotion you feel each and every time lip parts lip? If I were to try, I wouldn't start with the first embrace or the first touch or the first time your tongue swept the top of your mouth and you breathed my name. I wouldn't start with the first time nail bit into hip or teeth into shoulder or the first time you cried my name and I cried yours. I wouldn't talk about the first time that we held hands under the branches of the willow, limbs interlaced as we fell asleep with Whitman on my breast. I wouldn't even talk about the time you slipped platinum around my finger and I cried on a sunny October afternoon.More Like This
Instead, I would talk about the first time you taught me something. I would talk about how we were standing in wintery midnight air and how you put your hand on the small of my back--as i
The quiet onesThe Quiet OnesMore Like This
It's the quiet ones you have to watch out for:
the ones who sit in class, doodling in their notebooks.
Alone they're harmless and keep to themselves.
But don't be fooled, their brains are a flurry of activity.
Put two or more of them together, and you'll wonder what the heck happened.
These "quiet ones" start talking, start plotting.
They've planned each other's brutal deaths....multiple times.
They've discussed the zombie apocalypse....and how they'd start it.
The end of the world has four backup plans....to ensure its demise.
And you can almost guarantee your death has been penciled in for next Tuesday.
So be careful, 'cause it's the quiet ones you have to watch out for.
What are you about?It's about personality.More Like This
Are you sweet?
or are you like me; full of hatred?
Do you feel contempt?
I feel it.
It rattles my bones.
It keeps me breathing.
It keeps me from my first death, but not the second.
I dare you! : A Slender Story"Slenderman isn't real!" I yelled at the top of my lungs.More Like This
"Yes he is! I saw him!" Rachel yelled back. Rachel was a sixteen year old girl with long strawberry blond hair and thought she knew everything about the paranormal. Ghosts do exist, but not the Slenderman.
"He was made up for a forum. Nothing more, nothing less."
"Then how do you explain the legends and stories that were told of a faceless man before the forum even did the paranormal photo thingy?" she asked. Thingy? Really Rachel?
"Those are something different! Forget this!" I stormed off leaving an angry Rachel behind me. I had done research on this "Slender man" when I had a dream about him. He's not real. I only dreamed about him because I saw too much fan art.
"I hear you don't believe in Slenderman," Chris said to me the next day at school.
"What's it to you?" I glared at him. His smiling blue eyes bore through me as I stared at him with my questioning glare.
"If he's not real then you wouldn't mind going into the woo
I Am AddictionI’m past it,More Like This
Don’t need it,
Don’t want it,
But what am I without it?
It’s still part of me,
Tattooed for all to see;
Little lines of pain,
Worming into my brain.
My only friend,
Will be my sweet end.
I need definition,
What makes me myself?
I want to be put on a shelf;
Just define me by my actions,
My scars, my abstractions.
Show me who I am,
Who you want me to be,
My old comfort,
My old joy,
Red itching scratch,
And the sentiment I attach,
Dragging me down
And making me fly;
Making me laugh
And making me cry.
Is it addiction?
Is it compulsion?
Is it wrong?
I know it’s not right,
But if I ended it tonight,
Would it really matter?
I’ll never be past it,
Always need it,
Always want it,
Because what am I without it?
SuicidalBlood flows from our wrists,More Like This
Making our hands turn into fists.
We only feel the pain and sorrow,
Have we given up hope for a better tomorrow?
The rope is hanging from the ceiling,
Helping us end that miserable feeling.
The pills are scattered across the floor,
Maybe we need to swallow just one more?
Others might refuse to see the cruelty of life,
While others try to end it by the knife.
Trying to get out of this cruel dream,
Sometimes all we can do is scream.
There are others like you out there,
You might not yet know where.
But they try to overcome it,
That's something not all will admit.
Every one of us needs a helping hand,
Facing these torments alone is something none can withstand.
But we would first need to admit and ask,
Be willing to take off this smiling mask.
Before we get to help to finally smile again,
And get rid of all this pain.
Without You.And as the blood runs off of this blade,More Like This
And drips out onto this far out glade.
I really wish I'd told you no,
I really wish I had told you "don't go".
And as the tears ran from your eye,
I wish I could've made them dry.
But right now I wish more than anything,
That you were mine, because I am nothing.
Your Perfect Little GirlYour perfect little girl dropped a grade on her report cardMore Like This
Your perfect little girl yelled at you last night
Your perfect little girl talked back to you again
Your perfect little girl turned out all the lights
Your perfect little girl painted her nails black
Your perfect little girl cries herself to sleep
Your perfect little girl slit her wrist until she bled
Your perfect little girl made promises she could not keep
Your perfect little girl kissed another girl
Your perfect little girl was broken by a boy
Your perfect little girl doesn't go to church
Your perfect little girl was told that she's a toy
Your perfect little girl hates the things you do
Your perfect little girl had a bad day today
Your perfect little girl has given up on life
Your perfect little girl wants to run away
Your perfect little girl thinks she overweight
Your perfect little girl won't let you dry her tears
Your perfect little girl won't listen to your word
Your perfect little girl no longer hides her fears
softenedthe sky whispers,More Like This
ribbons of crystalline quiet,
same shade as the angel dust
you shivered every time we were
in the darkness, we were
sorry birds searching for
open dawns. you, the
swan, me, the
black as night and
just as hopeful.
and there were poems
written in your skin, universes
blooming in your hands; your eyes
were a December sunrise saving me
from any sleep.
I’ve decided that
people are a composition of
all their greatest memories—and you,
you were always the most
beautiful piece of
Once AgainAgain, my heart, you find yourself ensnared,More Like This
Bound tightly to another by red string.
Pulled and dragged, at mercy to her every whim.
Sweet innocent monster, completely unawares
How she could kill me, break my bleeding heart adoring,
If she turns those pretty eyes to gaze at him.
i have given you a present: perfect, simple, tenseLet me rename yourMore Like This
majestic visage: you
are To Die For. Your
smile blinds me like
a one-eyed simile, a
Let us conjoin; we're
Now and Then. Let's
connect our clauses &
become a life sentence-
become a couple
of copulative verbs-
become less tense
& build a future
Let us make love like comma splices,
let's become each other's antecedent.
(independent pronouns &
hearts in transit. You are
the object of my affection,
the subject of this phrase,
the other end of my lonely
You are To Die For
& I never split an
You're Not?You're anorexic if you're thinMore Like This
You're not? Then you're obese.
If you're different, you're insane
You're not? Then you're a fake.
If you're happy, you're hiding something.
You're not? You must be emo.
If you're dating, you're a slut.
You're not? You must have no friends.
If you're popular, you're a jerk.
You're not? You're a nobody.
If you're quiet, you must be disabled.
You're not? You obnoxious freak.
If you're you, you're wrong.
Then you must be perfect.
things i asked the wizard forI hear your Reality voice for the first timeMore Like This
in Eros-Only-Knows-how-long. Dressed
to kill, but you've already killed me more
times than a cat. Reincarnated by your smile
not directed at me. I'd have said hello,
but I'm better compiling my nonsense
into a grocery list of imperatives:
Take off your skin, your suit, your sex.
Poison the weatherman. Death by acid
rain. Let the windchill bash your skull.
Pretend it's a tornado whisking you off
to Oz. Steal the Tinman's heart. Crush
the Wicked Witch of Aphrodite. Regret
the pun on crush. Become haunted by
the Ghost of Valentine's Day Past. She
wants her ruby slippers back. Click my
body with your hips three times. Chant
"there's no place like home" & if home's
where the heart is, then my bedroom is
on your sleeve. Sleeping on your wrist.
Snoring from my heart. Don't wake me.
This is the first time I've slept in a year;
this is the first time I've dreamt in three
I sprinkle moldy breadcrumbs across
the path of jaun
zeroi sworeMore Like This
i would never number the poems
i wrote about myself because that
would be like ticking off the days
until my breakdown;
i was a moth, unapologetically throwing myself
at any gleam of hope; wasting my wings
on industrial promises
colors always felt much more
appropriate for the purple boiling
beneath my heart and the pallid
purposelessness of my head,
but i was born into a colorless world--
no one sees me behind the metallic scars
of my skin and iron grating of my voice against
the grain; no one sees me as more than
gray regret or monochrome mistakes,
no one sees me but
all i ever wanted was for a
fallen god with feathered heels
to believe in me: to pray upon
the monuments i built for
broken dreams and to baptize me
in his tainted tears,
i just want him to be real. more
than anything, i want to be real, i want
to be more than an imaginary friend
to various mental limitations; i want
to trade my liquid skin [evaporating]
for a chance to be
i am a moth and you are the lighthouse