I used to be thick, inky black regret
Spilling out of an old, tightly closed glass coca cola bottle.

I used to be road rash.

I used to be getting stuck too many times at the hospital, and still no luck with the IV.

I used to be "but these pills are such a pretty color..."

I used to be "but what else is there for me?"

I used to be a lot of things.

Now I am just the blood in your veins,
I am the chilled fall air,
And I the oxygen in your lungs,
I am the carbon of your bones.

I am marrow,
I am mind.
I am all you know,
And each twist in time.

I am the worlds end,
And I am the worlds start.

I am every single part,
Every single note
Of every single quote

I thought I left behind.

You are the air that I breathe,
The songs that I sing.
You are the sunsetsunrise
That I need.

You are the moonrisemoonset
The noon time
I never met

Your heart is all I ever needed
And I am so proud to keep it.

My mind is foggy
From my depression.
Something I've been diagnosed with.
Something I only notice
When it gets really bad.

I say things.
Things about myself
That if anyone else said them,
I'd be beyond hurt.

But the fog
Makes it okay.

Because the fog twists things,
And words,
And actions,
And expressions.

And my past makes me paranoid.

Like when you're being extra quiet,
And extra thoughtful,
Introspecting,
If you will.
When you use responses like "I will be."
To my question of "Are you okay?"

It rubs me the wrong way.
I can't take things
At face-value.

Everything is deeper.

The fog makes the distance between us
Seem much bigger than it probably is.

But to me,
It goes on for miles.

This is one of the hardest things.

Telling you what's wrong.

About all my insecurities.

And you promise to fix it,
Everytime.

But everytime,
Nothing changes.

You walk on ahead,
With him.
With her.

And I am barely out of the car.

It ***** to tell you I'm hurt.

But biting the bullet and admitting the truth
Is better than letting it fester,
Like the infection it's become

I've lived my life
In the clutches of hatred.

I'd love to watch parts of the world burn,
But I'm done taking my self-hatred out on
The world
And everyone better than me.

Yeah,
I guess you could say I'm angry.
But I'm angry at myself,
For never being good enough
For anyone.

It's the after taste of the handful of pills you take,
Every day,
Every night.

It's the headache you get after you cry,
Tears you didn't even know  you had.

It's the chalky sensation,
Of the pills in your chest.

It's the heart burn in your ribcage
That burns into your throat.

It's the vicious pain in your wrists,
Before the blade hits.

It's the hyperventilation that keeps you from seeing.

But it's the moment you realize,
That death is not painful,
Nor is it a release.

It's the eerie sense of calm,
Before the storm sets in.

You feel nothing.
You think nothing but
"This is it."

You feel as though everything has built up
To this point.

That everything you love
Has fallen apart.

It's the moment of fear that comes after,
When you decide that it was wrong
When you decide you don't want this,
When you realize what you've done.

It's getting pushed around by nurses,
After you tell them why you're there.

It's being told "You deserve this"
By the people you thought cared.

So call me a **** up.
Call me a monster.

But don't you dare call me a coward.

I have looked Death in the face and refused his offers.

I have chosen life and light above Death and Darkness.

I have come over the hill and back again,
And made amends and seen the truth.

What is right is not always easy, and what is easy is not always right.

My voice is silent,
My words are whispers in the blowing wind.
I am not loud,
I am not intrusive.

To most people,
An unheard
"I miss you."
Would be replaced
With
"Nevermind, it wasn't that important."

Because no one listens,
And it's gotten to the point
That you don't really care
If anyone hears you.

And all of a sudden
An unheard "I love you,"
Is replaced by a louder and more aggressive
"I love you!!!"

People don't hear
People like me.

I have a lot to say,
But few will ever listen.

Most listen
With the intent to respond,
Not the intent to hear.

I appreciate
And rather enjoy
Your intent to hear
Me.

I hope you know,
I have full intentions
Of hearing you too.

Let's start off with saying that I want this spiraling descent
Into the destruction of my carefully constructed facade of calm
To stop.

I want to see your colors,
Though that won't happen for another two weeks.

And I want to feel your hands in mine,
And I want to feel your arms around me,
And I want to cry.
I want to cry and listen to your heartbeat
As it calms me.

I want to hear your voice,
And I want to look into your eyes,
And I want to tell you that I love you
And I want you to tell me
That you love me
Because I know
You love me,

Deep down inside this descent into madness
Caused by the change in the weather
And coping with triggers,
I know you love me.

I know with the very center of my being,
That the whole epitome of  this whole thing
Is that I love you
And you love me.

I want to flood your face with kisses,
And I want to run my hands through your hair,
And I want to be yours,
So wholly and completely and entirely.

And I am. No matter what.
I want to be yours
And I am.

You like her because she's confident.
You love me because I'm smart and kind.

Her confidence is flirty and self deprecating.

It's not her fault.

It's not your fault.

My confidence is sarcastic, and witty, and viciously venomous.

You wouldn't like me if I were confident, I guarantee that.

But kindness and intelligence and beauty
Do nothing against the allure of confidence.

It's no one's fault but mine.

I want to be a mom.
A homemaker.
I want to be happy.
I want to make others happy.

I want to see you smile
At me, while I wear an off-white dress,
And I want to see you smile
At children I want to give you.

And I want to be the woman
That makes your dark days a little bit brighter,
And I want to be the woman
That will sit with you in the rain.

I want to be the person
That will stand beside you every step of the way.
I want to be the one
That will do my best to lift you up.

I want to be the girl
You remember
And even better.

I want to be the person
That helps you grow and helps you be
Who you want to be.

And I am going to love you
Until the end of days,
And even then some.

Knuckles white,
Bared teeth that clack together with every barked out, growled out insult.

Black eyes that show nothing but cold ferocity,
And your tears reflected in the churning, opaque surface.

Red lips, curled over teeth that are too light,
And a tongue that's too sharp.

The silver tongued flattery is gone, any sense of mercy or humanity within her words is gone.

She's throwing insults,
And they're pointed but not full of curse words.
Things like,
"Your useless daddy issues and ability to use people to give you a sense of self worth makes you even more pathetic than I previously had thought,"
Or
"How emotionally unstable and black heart'd do you have to be to lie through your teeth and attempt at wounding people worlds smarter than you are, you sick freak?"

Something else about crying wolf and worthless worms.

She analyzes people to dehumanize them.

You're sickened by her words and ability to be so cruel,
And the hot rage boiling inside her makes you feel queasy,
So you slam the door and lock it,
Locking her away.

She wasn't talking about you,
But she is you,
And that scares you more
Than you're sickened by the people she was talking about.

I'm shivering and shaking
And I'm just here waiting
For the world to go a little slower,
Just a little bit
Just a little bit.

My veins were clearly visible
Beneath my pale, pale skin,
As the hot water fell in what felt like bullets
To my dizzy, spinning head.

And I'm still shivering, and I'm still shaking,
And I'm just waiting
For the world to be a little warmer,
Just a little bit,
Just a little bit.

And my skin is like porcelain,
If porcelain could scar.
If porcelain was olive,
And if porcelain held a grudge against the people who treated it like
Porcelain.

I'm just shivering,
And I'm just shaking,
And I'm just sitting here
Waiting.

The thing about being a poet,
Is that I drink so my thoughts become whole,
Not fruitless worries
And anxious ramblings.

The thing about being a poet,
Is that I find beauty in the most gruesome
Of circumstance.

The thing about being a poet,
Is that I'm most likely unstable,
And my emotions are extremely unsound.

I have an addiction to feeling, to rmotion, the way other artists are addicted to drugs, or alcohol,  or ***.

I crave love and I crave honesty. Admiration and trust. Loyalty and stimulation.  Dedication and, of course, the aching pain that reminds me I am alive.

I need to know I am alive.

So, the thing about being a poet,
Is that I write
So I may
Live.

I want to scramble eggs
to mix into fried rice and
fried ramen noodles
and mix up my brains
with the spatula
along with the rest
of the dish.

because my insanity
is quite the pain,
and my insanity
is due to be the end of me.

and if I scramble my brains
into the eggs
then my last thought would be
"I could have cooked this meal
way better."

It's funny
When you're emotionally hurt,
That you can feel your heart
Dropping into your stomach.

She's so much better,
You always smile when she talks to you.

I don't think it's going to become anything,
No.
But it still hurts that I can't make you smile like that.

She's funny and honest, and doesn't know as much as me in the areas I'm well versed in. But she knows about the things you like or know a lot about,
And she's super skinny.

She's much skinnier than me.

So much skinnier.

I'm never eating again.

It's hard to be lighthearted
When you hold the strings to pull
Your entire world down,
In hands that shake with tremors from too many medications
Too many years ago.

But still,
I prevail when I see your smile
Over the storm clouds
That loom over my head
Daily.

They call it an illness,
A sickness,
Some that you can "catch" or develop,
And some that you're just born with.

People call it being broken.
That's why people act different.
No, don't take it back.
It's okay.
I don't want you to.
It hurts, but that's the truth.

Humans have a tendency
To be able to sense danger,
And those with hearts
Can almost smell the blood that stained your hands,
From a wound that's long been closed up.

And every now and again
It itches and I scratch at it,
And it tears back open.
Keeps the scar fresh,
With big, bold, iron scented "DON'T TOUCH" red warning letters,
I guess.

And I have these dreams,
Not so much anymore,
But I used to,
Where the world was on fire,
And I caused the burning.

I had these dreams,
Now not so much,
Where I was fall into nothingness
And swamp water
And the last thing I saw
Before my descent into madness
Were electric eyes,
Constructed of galaxies and bits of expired universes.

And I felt this hatred,
This deep burning rage,
Because I had no idea
Whose they were,
And why.
And I hated that they made me feel vulnerable,
And safe.
I've never felt that way outside of a dream
Before you.

I've got running away
Running through my veins,
But I'd like nothing more
Than to stay.

And if it was to stay,
Right here,
Right now,
Right by your side,
Then I think
I'd be okay.

Not to say that I'm not
It's just that this is a lot,
All that I'm feeling.

Control.
It's about controlling
Myself, my heart, my trust in people.
But how could I not trust you?
That's essentially impossible,
For the likes of me.

I've always run away,
I just run away,
When I'm scared
When feeling gets hard
When the air gets thin.

I run away because
My skin is made of
Sun drenched pavement,
And my heart is made of frostbite,
Because hurt-people hurt people,
And I don't want to hurt anyone.

So run before you hurt them,
Run as fast and as far,
If you let them in you'll hurt them,
But I can't hurt you,
I won't hurt you.

Freedom is being free with you,
And if freedom means
Sticking around
I'll be around
For as long as I can.

But even with who I used to be,
I'm so glad to be this new me,
Because now I have a reason not to run.

If I've got running away
Running through me veins,
Then let me stay,
Let me stay with you.

Less is not more
When it comes to history,
When it comes to meant to be
And my darling dear,
I sincerely believe
We are meant to be.

Less is more
When it comes to
Needs and wants,
It doesn't need to be complicated,
It just needs to be real.

A flower,
A letter,
It doesn't need to be
Extravagant
You just have to
Try.

But less is not more
When it comes
To the years
We've had,
And the years I've spent
Vying to be
Right by your side.

And I may hide it,
But there's a part of me
That is ever so bold
In my affections for you.

If less is more,
Then just let me hold you,
And hear you speak.
I want to touch your skin,
And feel your heartbeat,
Because with every pulse
I know the world is a little brighter,
And the weight on my shoulders
Is a little lighter.

I fear getting attached
But it's way too late for that.
So remember my fingers laced between yours,
And remember my voice
And the sweet nothings
That mean everything,
Oh so brash.
And if loving you
Is sinful,
I will gladly take
Any and every lash.

If less is more,
Then fill my heart with love
Through one kiss
That will lead to
Millions more.

Slamming doors,
Stomping feet,
Angry tone,
And vicious eyes.

Screaming.
Yelling.
Harsh words.

And instead of flinching,
Unlike then,
Right here and right now
My fist clenches,
And I want to scream
"What power do you have?
Other than inflicting fear upon those that are weaker than you?"

And I feel nothing for those that have
Left me bruised and scarred,
Spitting up blood during my
Graduation ceremony.

Not contempt,
Not anger,
Maybe a little fear.

And when I feel rage
Coursing through my veins,
I'm suddenly calmed my a thought,
Sweet and Simple:

"My Bluebird."

And it's a song,
It's a smell,
It's a feeling of warmth and calm,
It's sanity in a good way,
Insanity in the best way.

My Bluebird of Peace,
Brings calm around me,
Brings the sizzling, explosive temper I possess,
Down into nothing.

He lifts me into the light of day,
When I'm overcast.
He pulls me into the warmth of human decency,
When I don't feel human at all.
There's a certain "who-knows-what" about him,
And I'm more than willing to find what it is,
And hold it to my heart with all the defensive protection
I can muster up.

Golden rays of sun,
Glistening down from the heavens,
And I'd rather be here with him
Than anywhere else.
A sky so blue it wraps you in the warmth
Of the sweet summer breeze,
That you almost can't feel because the humidity coats your wind pipe.

And birds flutter and sing in the distance,
And the soft call of a crow can be heard farther off,
And a song thrums in the back of my head,
And I feel a flounce and flutter in my heart,
And I want to feel the beat of his heart
Against my back
As we fall asleep.

The smell of apple cider
On a winters day,
And the warmth of the fire,
As my hands spread across a blanket,
To link fingers with his.

I want to remember
This feeling of being in love
Forever.
Yet I know,
I will be in love
With him until the end of days.

You all claim to be
Pro-life,
But where are the people
Who are pro-living?

And your
Lack of a cause
Has done what, exactly, to change
This world for the better?

Throw words around
Like they're *****.
But I'll brush them off
And wear them as a badge of honor.

Your feigned apathy
Towards fixing the problem
Is hindering the solution.

Just because you have no personal responsibility
Doesn't mean you have no responsibility at all.

You're scared of real feminism,
Because you think it will operate how
Your patriarchy does:
Violently and without remorse
Or consequence.

You fear equality for races
Because you believe
It will work the same way
Your oppression does:
Mercilessly and lacking real punishment.

You refuse to lend a hand to others,
To those dying in the streets,
Whether it be this nation or another,
Because you believe you won't get anything back.

And you claim to be pro-life,
Because someone yet to be born
Has no sin,
Is an innocent life.
But the moment they breathe in
All this air,
They are cast with original sin,
And you get to decide their fate.

And you claim to be pro-life,
But you're the one who makes the judgment,
You're the one who decides whether they live a life worth living
Or die a death unfitting.

And you claim you're pro-life,
But when there are
Children going hungry,
And parents getting sick,
And riots or bombs in the streets,
And hate crimes becoming
More and more and more
Can you tell me that you care?
That you'll do more than stop and stare?

You all claim to be
Pro-life,
But where are the people
Who are pro-living?

I will not omit
Any piece or part
Or scar or flaw
That is mine
For your comfort.

I do not care
If you cannot find comfort
Because I refuse
To powder my face snow white
Like pancake batter,
And hide, like a fraud,
My broken insecurities
And darkest scars.

I will be rude
And I will be sarcastic.
I will be obnoxious
And I will be intelligent.

I will be honest,
And raw
And real.
If you cannot handle that,
Little girl,
Well,
You wouldn't be the first.

I am strong,
For I have been broken,
But not by you,
No,
A mere human could not break the likes of me.
I have been broken
By aspects of life
I could not circumvent.

But I will be brave
And strong
And I will fly.

Without insects in sight.

No one's really ever proud of you
Until you do exactly what they say.
So no one will ever be proud of me,
But I'm okay with that.

I'm proud of me.

And I'm proud of you too.

Life is tough,
Life is hard,
And if I could punch my mental illness in the throat,
I'd do it.

And if I could stitch together all the shaky parts of you,
I would.
But if they didn't quiver from time to time,
They'd lose their character,
And I like that you have character.

Everyone has some type of insecurity,
I just happen to be a pistol and fire away at mine.

And when everyone's getting you down,
Listen above the crowd.
Hear above the noise,
Remember that I'm proud of you.

I am proud of your smile,
I am proud of your effort,
I am proud of your big victories
And your small victories.

And I know it probably doesn't mean much,
Coming from someone like me
(Meek, shy, and timid most of the time)
But I'm proud of you each and every day.

Tear me apart
Rip me to shreds
What does it matter?
Break me
To shape me
Into what you want me
To be.

You aren't the first
To try
And I doubt
You will be
The last.

While I will proclaim
"You cannot break me,"
You know fully well
How broken I'm feeling.

I try so hard
To do right
By you
And all
It boils down
To are my flaws.

You are no better
Than those
You judged.

Your voice and the color of your tone
Plays on repeat in my head,
And I'm stuck, stuck, stuck,
On everything I should have said.

Sometimes I'm a broken record,
And that's okay, that's kinda neat,
At least I'm a record at all,
Vinyl just won't admit defeat.

I'm glass work,
Built by wind and flame and coarse earth,
To create something so fragile and beautiful,
With colors spiraled about.

You are cold metal,
Only warm with the heat of my skin
Holding you tight.
Built from the iron of the blood from 4000 grown men,
And water and heat and other bits of science and smithing I don't quite understand.

I am air,
Soft and warm but cool in the heat of summer,
Gently kissing leaves, wind chimes, and your face in the humidity
In order to allow you to breathe again.
I am the harsh winds of a hurricane,
Destroying all in its path,
Reducing houses and homes to shrapnel and rubble and dust.
I am your first breath of fresh, cold winter air, when you cannot breathe
Because it was all too much, too much, and you're too young to really know why.
I am cold but comforting, there and real without being seen or known.
I am the whisper within the trees, from the waters, carrying smoke along my back to warn you of danger.

You are earth.
Steadfast and solid,
Stubborn and real.
Honest.
You are the rocks and stones that hold meaning and power within their pools of color and opaque surfaces.
You are the avalanche of boulders and pebbles that fall and destroy
All that so choose to come in its' path.
You are the soft soil in which you urge new life to grow,
Within soft and gentle hands, urging it forward and through the surface,
So that all may look in awe of its' beauty,
While you are wrapped tight around its roots so that you may protect
And nurture it with all that you are.

I am the color that spirals through your heart and within noise,
I am the burst of soft light that grows too large, too bright, too quickly,
And I am simultaneously too much and not enough.

And you are soft and stark shades of gray and black,
Pooling in to balance the colors that I have poured everywhere,
Adding definition and understanding
Of why they are what they are,
You are just in time and you are just right.

Thoughts of you are warm and lulling me to sleep.
Thoughts of me are dizzying and overpowering.

There's not much to what I have to say,
It could be said softly,
"I love you,"
Or loudly,
"My love for you is vastly infinite, more so than the universe, and more so than the expanse of the mind."

Your voice and the color of your tone
Plays on repeat in my head,
And I'm stuck, stuck, stuck,
On everything I should have said.

see me, ******!*
I shout into the void.

know me, ******!
I scream into nothingness.

please!
I beg
acknowledge me!
I whisper into the vast blankness
of existence.

I just want to be somebody
I whimper
*just somebody to someone.

I am not beautiful.
no, I am not exquisite
or delicate
or dainty.

I am a china rabbit
I am a glittering snow globe
with a castle beneath
thing glass.

I am not
a flower.
I am not
beloved by anyone
anything
and I don't want to be.

I am the rising sun,
I am the pull of the moon on your mind.

I am silence
when you despise sound.

there are soft curves
to my slim being,
and breakable parts
beneath pink when blushing but mostly olive
flesh.

my wrists
can be circled
and held tightly
between your finger
and your thumb.

and my eyes are brown
and only glitter gold
when elated.

they pierce the air
with hollowed features
when felt by fury.

I have purple bags
under my eyes
24/7.

until I met you,
that is.

once upon
a time
I was not a fair damsel
in need of protection,
instead I was a maiden
with knowledge of swords and fighting and
I was to be feared
by the dragons.

but upon breaking,
and upon loving you,
my pride is not worth
as much
as I once thought.

The sun is shining,
The air is warm,
The breeze is cooling
Off the heat of the blood beneath my skin.

And I can feel
The biting sting
Of tears behind my eyes,
As a deli cashier berates me
For asking for a container.

I roll my eyes,
Move on and move forward,
I can't let me anxiety and that guys problems
Bring me down today.

Walking home in the heat,
From the store.
Spend an hour working on trail mix,
Cursing myself for making so little.
Cursing myself for not buying more of the ingredients.
Cursing myself for not making more money,
For not being better,
For upsetting anyone ever.
For being myself in certain aspects that I am me--

No.
Breathe.
Breathe right now.
In, out.
In, one two three.
Out, one two three.

I close my eyes,
Breathe in sharply,
Wash the dishes,
Make lunch,
Take my meds,
Clean up.

Check what I need to
Off my list,
Clench my fists,
Release the strain.

Muscles burn,
Tension in my shoulder,
Shake my head,
Use my hand in place of ice,
Wait for the burning twist to subside.

Guzzling Gatorade,
To drive away the headache,
Tears threaten to fall,
Ignore them,
Ignore the lump in my throat,
It doesn't matter.
Stop doubting yourself.
You didn't do anything.
No one did anything.
It's been a stressful few days.
You've been isolating yourself.
Stop doubting yourself.
Demand that you treat yourself better.
Ignore it ignore it ignore
The lump in your throat
The stinging behind your eyes
The pressure on your chest.
Ignore it.

They cannot hurt you now.
The dreams cannot get to you when you're awake.
Ignore it. It's over.
Do not doubt yourself.
You are loved you are loved you are loved.

Look at the sky,
Remember something good,
Something real,
Something honest.
All you can think about is flying,
And how refreshing it is.
How scared are you?
Fear is pooling in the pit of your stomach,
Like a puddle of murky water.
Something's wrong and maybe it's that you're thinking too much,
But it's too much and it won't stop but it has to.
You have to make it stop, right now.
Breathe!

The warmth of the sun
Is like the warmth of my Bluebird's smile,
But there's something eating away at my insides,
And the sun can't help.

Man, sure, rain *****.
But boy, does sunshine bite.

I was once
A distant memory
And I forget
But I don't want to recall
The pain that my life was
When you were my friend.

So I hope you're well,
But know that I cannot
Be there
I cannot
Care.

No one saw
The wounds
For they were sheathed
Beneath
Bone.

It hurts to fade
Away from you,
But if this is the journey
Life must take me on
Then this is the journey
I will gladly accept.

You'd be so proud,
Or maybe you wouldn't,
I am unsure
If I know you
Anymore.

But the you you used to be
When you were you and I was me,
Would be so proud
Of who I have become.

I am strong
But careful,
And I do not strike,
But if I do,
It is swift and painless
And the only hurt that is left over
Is mine and mine alone.

I hope you are well,
But riddle me this,
If you were you
And I were me
Would we still be
This distant?

I cannot identify stars
Or constellations,
But I can make a shape
Make a something
Out of anything
You put in front of me.

But as for the constellation Virgo,
There is a star known as a Spica,
Sixteenth brightest star in the sky,
Brightest in its' constellation.
And despite all that I've read,
And despite all my hopes and dreams,
This is a star,
I thought I would never get to see.

Because stars are not meant to be seen
And kept.
Rather held in our hearts
Like secret memories
To remind us of homes
We've never had.

And trust me,
I can tell you all about homes
I've never had.

But I don't want to,
Not today.

I want to tell you about a Virgo,
Born under Spica,
In the ruling house of Mercury,
And all the love I carry in my heart for him,
And how my whole body aches to be held by him,
And my skin shivers in wait of his touch,
And how much my heart shudders and aches
For his presence and being
To be close to mine.

Flock together and whisper
Quiet calls of hurt pride
And spiteful fallacies.
Whisper things uncertain
Whisper "facts" so mangled
They are made to look
Like twisted fantasy.
Whisper softly
Whisper quietly
Whisper.
Maybe that's my problem.
I've been so busy
Spouting off the truth
That they just think
This shrieking revelation
Is screaming.
While you whisper lies
I will scream the truth.
Keep your head down,
Play a game of telephone
With hushed voices.
Get ready,
Though,
Because hearts of true gold,
Not fools gold,
Will stand and hear the
"Based on real events"
Battle cry.
- I wanted to be a vigilante but instead I work a desk job (Otherwise known as "The Unreleased Works of Those With Higher Thinking (our arrogance will get us farther than you)")

Isn't it curious
That coincidences don't
Seem so much like coincidences
Anymore?

Sure,
Maybe it was some kind of
Coincidence
That I've loved you all this time,
And that now you're mine to love and to hold,
But I'd like to think
That fate has a funny way
Of bringing people together.

I wanted to be yours,
Yes,
Each and every day before
I finally was.
But was I fit to be yours?
No.
I wasn't quite whole,
I wasn't quite steady.
I didn't quite know
Who I was.

But I am yours,
Through and through.
My heart will always
Belong to you.

But isn't it curious
How life has such a funny way
Of playing out?

Close the door,
Shut me away.

I'll never be
Good enough
Strong enough
Anything close to
Enough.

I want to pull my hood down,
And shut the world out
Nothing feels right,
I'll never be right.

My head hurts
And I'm afraid,
I'm afraid of the hell I've made.

I know I'm still sick,
And I can feel this infection in my body
Making everything worse,
But I want you to know
Nothing is worse than feeling like I'm not good enough for you.

And try and try as I might
I can't bring myself to more than
Like myself.

But at least it's enough
For me to take enough charge,
That I want to be treated
As more than
Just a person
On the other end of the screen.

The first time I fell in love
Would forever be the last.
I fell in love with the way you smile,
And the way your eyes seek mine,
In the light
In the dark
In the shroud of your colors,
All dark and grey from anger and hurt.

The first time I fell in love
Would forever be the last.
I fell in love with the way you laugh,
And the way my hand feels in yours.
The way your voice sounds when I'm afraid,
The way your voice sounds when I'm not.

I fell in love with the way you hold me,
And the not-quite-linear way you have of thinking.
I fell in love with the warmth of the fire in your
Ice cold eyes.

I fell for seafoam blues and greens, spirals of sunset reds and oranges.

I fell for a Bluebird of peace,
Who gave me peace
Before he found his.

But what they don't tell you about love
Is that it hurts.
It hurts and it aches,
The way I feel when you're here
But so far.
And it hurts
When I disappear
So far away
From you,
When I fall through your fingers
Like grains of too-soft sand.

The first time I fell in love
Would forever be the last.
I fell in love with you.
With the way you don't make it feel
Like the love I'm familiar with.
The type that is driven by control,
Possessiveness,  and stockholm syndrome.

I fell in love with the way you
Are you
And nobody else.

The first time I fell in love
Would forever be the last.
I fell in love with the way you smile,

I was not born to suffer.
I was not born to run.

I have suffered.
I have ran.

I was not born screaming.
My teeth were not bared.
There was no blood on my body.

This fight in my heart,
This rebel yell,
I was not born with them.
I taught myself this.

These bloodied hands and fists,
These rubbed-raw-by-gravel feet,
I was not born with them.
I learned this.

This gold heart,
These tender words.
I was born with them.

I will leave screaming,
I will leave with my teeth bared.
I will leave bloodied.

I was not born to suffer.
I was not born to run.

I have suffered.

I will run no longer.

I wear the blue bloodstone you gave me
Around my neck,
Locked away in a spiral cage.

But your eyes shimmer
And shine
In the darkness.
And you have galaxies in your eyes,
So I guess it's fitting
That what I give you in turn,
Has galaxies trapped inside it.

I know
I am terribly difficult to love.
And I know
I am terribly easy to leave.

But you're it.
You're all I need.

And I hold the cold
Dyed agate you gave me in my hand
Until the stone gets warm
From what little body heat
I have to give.

I can only pray
That you'll come home
Safe and sound
With lots of love for me,
Because I know when you come home
I'll have lots of love
To give you.

I keep cutting out
Pieces of myself
To give
Everyone else,
Expecting to receive the love
I so desperately try to give.

Hoping someone
Somewhere
Will finally stay.

But Frost said
Nothing gold can stay.
And maybe I was wrong.
And maybe he was actually right.

Your heart,
Golden like my intentions.
Your voice,
Soft orange and inviting blue cascading through me like warmth I've never felt,
Safety I've never known.

Your hands trail my body,
Warm and somewhat calloused,
Tickling me softly,
Enough to force laughter out
But not quite enough to cause pain.

And kissing my lips,
My cheeks,
My face,
Flooding me with sensations
Of overwhelming love and kindness.

And I am content,
And I am happy,
And everything is well,
For the first time
In a very long time.

Today,
I woke up,
And for the first time since March,
I have contemplated the pros and cons
Of ending my life.

Today,
I woke up,
And realized that there are parts of this world,
People in this world,
That would have been and would still be
Better off without me.

Today,
I woke up,
And no snoring puppy,
No purring cat,
No cawing crow
Could penetrate the deafening silence
That has taken my soul hostage.

Today,
I woke up,
And I realized that there are things you've never seen
That I wish I had never seen.

Today,
I woke up,
And thought of all the ways
I am not enough.

Today,
I woke up,
And gave names to all my failures and faults.

Today,
I woke up,
And saw how far I still have to go.

But

Today,
I woke up,
And for the first time in my life I realized
That I am worth something.
That I don't deserve to feel this way.
That there is no sin I have commited that is so great
To earn the ire of a world that never loved me.

Today,
I woke up,
And realized that there are people whose hands I will never hold again,
But the shade of their eyes
And the spark in their smile,
Will forever be held in my heart,
Wherever they may be,
Whoever's hands they may be holding
Or whoever sparks their smile next.

Today,
I woke up,
And I forced myself to move
And I forced myself to shower
And I forced myself to take my pills and drink some water
And start my day.
I forced myself to listen to music that doesn't make me want to rip my heart out.

Today,
I woke up,
And I knew in my bones that
I am more than my past,
And I am more than my pain,
And I am more than anyone ever expected me to become.

Today,
I woke up,
And looked deep into my brown eyes,
And counted every streak of yellow, every flare of red, every speck of black.
I took in a deep breath and reminded myself
That I am a work in progress,
But I am coming along so beautifully.

Today,
I woke up,
And remembered that the most important thing
About being strong,
Is surviving.
I remembered that I have crossed through hell and high water
And back again
And my skin is still mine,
And my bones are still mine,
No matter who has tried to take me from myself,
That I am still my own, if nothing else.

I remembered that the strongest and most important thing I can do
Is walk right by death,
And look my demons straight in the eye and say:

*"Today, I woke up."

It seems every day,
In some way,
I become more like my father.

I remember telling you I was never gonna be like him.
I remember you telling me that you'd never be like yours.
And I remember thinking
"But your father isn't so bad at all."

I remember that, at the time, I felt ridiculously guilty for thinking that.

I don't feel so bad anymore.

I am becoming more like my father,
Because it feels like I'm constantly breaking promises
To people who were stupid enough to think
That I would keep them.
Because I am constantly breaking promises
To people who were stupid enough to think
I'd always love them.

The reason I am not like my father,
Is because I was stupid too.
It's because I was also stupid enough
To think that I could keep those promises.
I was stupid enough
To think I'd be able to love those people forever.

But, the problem is,
I am horrible at forgiving,
And I'm even worse at forgetting.

I remember one of the promises I made to you.
It was that I would always think fondly of you, no matter what.
Even if we stayed friends.
Even if we drifted apart.
Even if we never ever spoke again.

Today, I remembered how very much I hate you.

And today I also thought, verbatim,
"At least I don't look like an unfortunately pear-shaped crypt keeper like her."

I like to pretend that I didn't start hating you until a little towards the end of last year,
When I started dating the boy I've loved for more than a decade.

I like to try to convince myself of that.
I like to pretend that if that's how it happened, then I can act like I was a good friend, a good person, for a little longer than I was.

But the truth is,
I remember the day I started to hate you.

I remember when one of our mutual friends asked
If I still had a crush on "that guy from fifth grade".
I tried to tell her I didn't,
But that was a lie
And everyone involved in that conversation
Could tell
From how red I was turning.

I remember how deeply she frowned.
I remember her telling me
That you liked him too.

I remember how angry I was.
I remember almost throwing up.
I remember trying to convince myself
That it wasn't true.

I remember asking you.
I was laughing.
I was trying to act like I didn't believe it.

I remember you telling me it was true.
I also remember you telling me that you weren't going to act on it
Because of your "daddy issues" and your "trust issues"
And that even though you liked him a whole lot,
And lots of people had told you that he liked you too,
That you didn't really trust him.
"Besides," I remember how sweetly you smiled when you said this,
"It won't last long. And I kinda like watching him squirm."

You were trying to joke around,
You thought it would make me laugh,
Becquse at that point
I was kind of known for my dark sense of humor
And violent tendencies.

I remember how angry I was at you.
I remember wanting to scream at you.
I remember how hot my tears were.
I remember exactly what I wanted to say.

I wanted to tell you that there was no way you could possibly ever love him the way I did.
I remember wanting to tell you that I didn't care how close you two were, how well you knew him.
That I didn't care if he loved you or whatever.
I wanted to tell you that you could never ever possibly even imagine to care as much as I did.

You were too dishonest.
You were too fake.
You were too normal,
And I wanted to say that there was no way a ******* normal person
Could even fathom possessing
More love than I did.

But all I said to you,
After being too quiet for too long, was
"I have to go."

I remember rushing into the bathroom.
I remember throwing up.
I remembering sobbing on the bathroom floor for thirty minutes,
And when I went back to my class,
My teacher set me to the guidance counselor.
I sat in there for an hour and a half.
I refused to talk the entire time.
She ended up calling my dad,
And telling him that I needed some type of professional therapy
And that I should probably see a psychiatrist too.

What I remember that I didn't tell you,
Or anyone else, for that matter,
Was that I was sure that I would lose this.

Because you were, at this time, prettier than me.
And I was so sure he would fall head over heels for you.
And I remember thinking "How could he not?"
Because you were smart
And confident
And funny
And friendly
And charming
And nice,
And wore normal clothes
Like a normal person
And liked normal things
And had a normal family
And a normal house
And a normal life.

And isn't that all anyone would want?
Someone normal?

Because I sure as hell wasn't normal.
I was morbid
And spazzy
And I only ever wore black
Or dark red
Or dark purple.
And I carried around stuffed animals and dolls
And hid them in my locker or backpack
So people wouldn't think I was a complete basketcase.
And my mother was dying,
And my father was an alcoholic,
And my older brother was violent and angry
And I was the one raising my little brothers
And I always had bruises and cuts and scars
And I would only pretend to eat.
I didn't always have a house to live in
Or a bed to sleep in.
I even slept in the park
Across from the movie theatre
A few times.

And I was so sure,
That if you didn't already,
That you would absolutely love him.
I mean, how could you not?
He's sweet
And handsome
And kind
And smart
And polite
And (usually) gentle
And funny
And compassionate.

Before I had met him,
I didn't realize how drastically a person's eyes change in shade
When they care about someone
And that someone is hurt.

I didn't realize
How powerful a person's voice could be.
How a smile laced between words could make you feel like flying,
Or how being able to actually hear someone out up their walls
From how they're talking to you,
Can make you feel like you're dying.

I quickly learned what it felt like to love someone,
And to lose them,
Without even ever really having them.

Sometimes, I miss you.
Or, I miss who I thought you were.
Who you pretended to be.

I look at him,
And my heart bursts with color.

I think about you using him,
And I am drowning in inky, black rage.

I think about how he loved you,
And it kills me.
If the bravado you put on
Had really been who you were,
There would have been no way
That he would love me.

But that wasn't who you were.

You and I are very similar.
I mean, there has to be a reason he loved you then,
And me now.

Neither of us know how to successfully create bonds between ourselves and other people.
We don't know how to become a part of someone else.

The difference is,
You pretend to.
You create bonds,
So you can use people
To meet the ends
You so desire.

While I,
I tell them how badly it could go.
How I might not ever be able to entirely accept or believe that they love me.

The difference is,
You don't know how to create bonds.
So you make them for the sole purpose of using people
As though they are objects.
As though they are a means to an end.

And while I do not know how to make bonds,
I want to.
I desperately want to.
I don't want to love the people I love from a distance.
I want to love them up-close,
In real-time.

I want to help them.
I want to nurture them.
I want to make them smile.

The difference is,
I admit I'm a monster.
But at least I have a heart.

While you,
You are a monster that is pretending to be a person.

In seven years, I will have new skin.
Skin that no cruel entities have touched.

But it has been seven years,
Since I have seen a person who I have
Always cared for.
Of course at ten,
You don't realize how much care
Is actually there.

I have known him for eleven years,
And haven't seen in in seven.

And he's so wonderful,
With aqua eyes that reflect laughter and pain and beauty of so many kinds.
I forgot how much I care about him,
How wonderful his laugh is,
His sense of humor,
His voice.

I forgot how much I care
About the wonder that is his smile,
And his understanding.

I'm not great at love poems,
But a "like" one I think I can do.

He likes DC more than Marvel,
And he likes the Green Lantern (Hal Jordan),
And his favorite cookies are oatmeal raisin.

I want to fight alongside him,
In the struggle of life.
I want to laugh with him,
As my friend
(And hopefully more)
For a long time.

I was called "Little Bird"
Precious, small, and brave.

I call you Bluebird.
Calm, peaceful, bright.
A thousand other adjectives,
I don't feel the need to list.

But I'm looking at this edge.
This cliff
That I am swiftly approaching.

Fall or fly.
Fall or fly.

Those are my only two options.
I've come too far for the third,
Which was turn around.

Fall or fly.
I mean, I'll fall anyway.
That's the only way I'll be able to fly.
But what if I lift off immediately.

Or what if I fall and I feel like I'm flying?

Only one way to find out.

Let's hope these broken wings,
Will take to the air,
If only to trail behind
The blue wings
I adore.

Losing the two of you
was like watching the sun die
and the air around me
and in my lungs
burst into flame.

it was being stuck
on a lifeless planet
and watching my home
go careening into oblivion.

and after I lost her,
I almost lost my mom.
it still keeps me up at night
everytime she's sick.
I hate myself
sometimes
for trying to push her away
because I didn't want it to hurt
if she really did die.

and on march 15th of 2015, I lost him,
we all did.
and I remember because this month
in 2014
I almost lost myself.

and I remember
that when one of our
old friends called me
my wrists felt like fire
but my mouth was cold.
my chest wouldn't move
and I could not speak
if it was not to grossly scream and sob.

I let myself fall into toxic people
I was vulnerable
but that was no excuse.

I became toxic myself
and I let myself become bad again.
and I don't know what happens
after death but I have to believe in something
because I can't stand to think
that D and Reese are gone and aren't safe
and that selfishly I won't see them again.

and when they tried to break me
these new toxic people,
I found myself.

I am fiery and strong,
a storm siren.
I do not break
because or due to men.

but I have found
within
the love I have
for a boy I met
when I was at the budding age of ten,
that I am much softer,
much gentler than previously made out to be.

and I recognize this feeling as a genuine sort of care and love
because this is the feeling I had
when I only ever wanted to protect her.

you do not need swords or shields
to fight for someone.

every day I fight my past
so I may remain
flying with my bluebird.

I'm not cure,
If anything
I'm the epitome of
Nicotine.

I'm deadly and addictive,
Filled with venomous scorn
And a flaring volatile temper
When my insecurities get the best of me.

I'm too smart for my own good,
And quick-witted.
My moral compass almost always
Points north,
But being Chaotic Good,
I rely on my moral compass,
Rather than moral and orderly rights and wrongs.

Kiss me and breathe me in,
I'll blacken your lungs.
Kiss me and breathe me in,
My words will blacken your heart.

I am dangerous,
I am deadly,
How you chose me,
I'll never know.

But you've healed these
Blackened lungs,
And you've cleared up,
This blackened heart,
Just by the
Gentle care within
Your voice
And your touch.

And I can't imagine
A life without you,
So I won't
Even bother
Trying.

All I want
Is to be held
In your arms.

Tonight,
I am manic.

A vast new world,
A different taste
From my dysphoria
From my fears
From my anguish.

I am hyper,
Hyper-active,
Hyper sensitive.

I twirl and flounce
All around
All around you.

I can be brighter
Than the sunset
And lighter
Than the stars,

But this isn't that.

This is random giggles
Taking my medication late
And cooking too much
Talking too much
Thinking too fast and too much
All at once.

This is reckless behavior,
Heightened *** drive,
But it's a back-and-forth,
Because my *** drive doesn't function
Without you.
It's a to-and-fro because you keep me in check,
You keep me at more of a balance
Than I had been.

But the mania
Still poisons
My mind.

I am
uninteresting
I am
a lost cause.

what do you
see in me?

I'm just
a lost soul.

but darling dear,
fire burns within this
lost
soul

like the fire that burns
within
your eyes.

I am a
lost
soul
but I am found
within your gaze.

give me the chance
to be interesting
give me the chance
to be more than I am
than I was.

Close
Your
Eyes

Think.
Dream.
Disappear.

If you are the sunlight,
Then I am the grey.
If I am the nighttime,
Then you are the day.

There are
Parts of
This world
Where you
Can't be found.

There are
Parts of
This world
Where you
Are found.

There are
Things
Deeper
And darker
Than I,
So maybe
I am not
So bad.

There are things
Deeper
And darker
Than you,
Than what you've
Been through,
So maybe
We aren't
So bad.

If you can find
Light in my
Sunset eyes
Then I can find warmth
In the fire within yours.

Close
Your
Eyes.

Think.
Dream.
Appear.

*If you are the sunlight,
Then I am the grey.
If I am the nighttime,
Then you are the day.

You have to remind yourself
That the negative things
Humans point out about you
Are usually the worst things
They see
In themselves.

So rip me
To shreds.
So tear me
Apart.

I am empty,
I am bleeding,
I am yours
For the taking.

But I certainly hope
That they know
I will sooner
Or later
Care less.

"If you feel so miserable about your life that you must try to hurt others, then I sincerely
And whole heartedly
Feel bad for you.
I might only be
5'1", but I would never want
To be that small."

I would choose your storm
Over the chance of sunshine.

I would choose your winter
And blizzard
Over the chance of warmth.

I would rather get caught in your downpour
Than be within someone else's
Sunny weather.

I would  choose you on your worst day,
Than anyone else on their best.

Because even during your worst,
Most heinous torrential rain,
You are still my first choice,
My only choice.

When all is said
And when all is done,
Lift your head,
Aim for the sun.

I know you really
Just want to give up.
You don't care about what could be,
It's too much to stand up.

It would be so easy
To fall through the ground.
It would go so simply,
If I just wasn't around.

But I sigh,
As I lay among the soil and dirt.
I don't have time to die,
I have to get back to work.

See, my life isn't mine.
I'm not living for me
But for the people whose love has defined
This life.

I've never had a good relationship with my father.

The moment I started forming opinions of my own,
The moment I started to spit fire and venom,
Instead of smile in a sugary sweet way at every turn,
He decided I wasn't really worth all the effort,
Or any kindness whatsoever.

He thinks I know too much,
Or I know too little.
He thinks I talk too much,
Or I talk too little.

He thinks I'm too cold,
Or foolishly warm.
He thinks I'm too open,
Or much too closed off.

My father cares more about a bottle,
Than he ever cared about me.
And you wonder why I have trouble
Bringing myself to drink.

And the thing I hate most about me,
Is that I prefer the smell of books
Over the smell of flowers,
And that I prefer the typing of a keyboard
Over the notes of a piano.
I'd drink scotch over wine,
Every time.

And that's my father's blood
Running through my veins,
And I hate the person
He's made.

I am cold and I don't trust.
I don't smile and I don't laugh.
I have a hot temper
And I always react.

My father is the type of guy
Who goes on and on about being liberal,
But thinks dancing wrong
Or touching someone the wrong way
Is an invitation
For ***.

And if I disagree,
We fight and we fight,
And he's ashamed of me,
But I don't care anymore.

And you can agree with any point he's made,
But you disagree with one key factor
And you're the enemy,
And you're wrong.

He thinks people who are on medication
Are always wrong.
And he thinks people who don't take meds,
But need them,
Are batshit.

My father doesn't care about
Others feelings
Or the damage he does,
He sometimes only cares about
His pride
And his ******* scotch and *****.

I am hot headed
And stubborn.
I am a smart aleck,
And I'm way too sarcastic.

But I am my father's daughter.

And I hate the person he's made.

I want you to know
I love you so
And as I drift off
I imagine being in your arms
And I want so bad
for it to be real.
because you are my
light.

I love you,
Bluebird,
And have you not heard?
Don't you know?
Life is what you make it.
and I choose to make a life with you.

Dear Ceremonial Suit of Armor that shines too bright to be real,

I could tell you I love you. I could tell you I didn't. Both would be lies. I do not love you. That does not mean I never did. There was a point in time, before February, where I did. When I got bad in January, the process of falling out of love had already begun, because I could not remain loving someone who treated me as less than trash behind closed doors. I had only ever offered my body up to you as a preventative measure, trying to convince myself otherwise. I had fooled myself, and maybe you. I hate myself for it.

And your cruelty has left me wounded in a new way, but rest assured I will heal. I understand that you were already falling for someone else when you broke up with me on my best friends porch. Please understand that I am not an idiot. Please understand that I know the game fairly well that you play. Please understand you are no better than me when it comes to mental health, and no better than your ex's before me when it comes to games.

I am scared to flinch. I am scared to take the steps to trust people. I am scared to reach out, to be honest entirely and wholly. I am scared of the words "I love you" as they fall from my mouth, because what if they are met with the same cruel glare and ice cold, empty touch. There are words, phrases, noises, even songs that set me off. Not like the one before you. No, they set me off in a way that makes me see all the parts of me I am a vividly aware are not perfect. It takes a lot of breathing and a lot of focus to calm me back down and bring me back (on my own, by the way) to Earth where I can see that I am not horrible. That those were volatile lies spread by you and your temper.

I know you spreading lies about my mental health. I have been told by many sources, I have much proof. I know you are spreading lies about how I spoke about others. I hope they know you are not much better than the toxicity you spread with your sharpened tongue.

I am bitter. I expected so much better from you, and instead I was left with regret. But your nature and being that has left me limping has also changed me for the better.

I see that I am good. I see that I am strong, and I will be okay.

I do not know about you, anymore.

Sincerely,
Glass Shattered