Is poetry not enough? Do my songs still not help? The ghosts that I've conjured scream no. Writing always made me miss you more clearly; but it never made me stop missing you.

And I think I’ve managed to **** up every good thing that has happened to me. My vocabulary is becoming strictly “I’m sorry” And I am. But I’m sorry doesn’t fix everything. And sorry didn’t fix us.

I always say that I write to confront my fears, but I’m starting to think that I’m just writing to myself. And poem after poem I only become more aware that the almost inevitable self destruction is my biggest risk.

I’ll pound knuckles into walls, I’ll etch pencil into paper, and I’ll stay in the same spot for what feels like forever. I’ll conjure more ghosts. I’ll scream “I’m sorry” and in the end I will be the only one to blame.

But In the end I’ll still blame you.

I don’t want to talk.
Just cry on your warm shoulder.
To pour out my heart.

-you're starting to exist more in my writings than in my reality

You say you care..
but do you really?