I feel like I’m a sun—
A glowing orb that brings life to others—
I’ll keep you warm,
I won’t let you freeze

But I’ll stay silent as the world begins to deteriorate—
I’ll watch the people I’ve worked so hard to keep warm— be left cold as the world freezes.

But I promise if you open your curtains I’ll be there—
I’ll make your room glow with my presence
I’ll stay till your finally warm—

Maybe then I finally will be able to set—
Descend into the horizon—
And finally burn off—
Be let free of the fires that burn in my core,
The fires that burn so hot, I can keep everyone warm—

The fires that have been burning
Oh so quietly—
Hidden from the world—
Hidden from the people I always warm.

Unpopular opinion—

No, a child shouldn’t have to be the bigger person.

I must be doing something wrong—

The only way I know how to love is by giving all I have until they undoubtedly walk away

And I bleed—

Every.

Single.

Time.

Yet the moment I have any chance—

I give my heart in full,
As if anticipating for something to be different—

As if waiting for someone to notice the scars,
And try to mend something unfixable,

Because I’ve come to learn that the people I give me heart to aren’t the problem—

I am—

I shoot the first bullet
And expect it to save them from my poison—

But they’ll always bleed,
Bullet or not.

My poison will burn,
And my bullet will fly—

But I suppose it’s the cost of the wrongs I’ve never tried to right.

I’m in love with being unloved.
I adore the knowledge that my feeling don’t matter—
I love knowing that my presence means nothing except empty wasted space
I love just being seen as just a body—
Just a body with no soul, and no love to give

Yet so hypocritically love the feeling of being loved—
The feeling of being sought out from a crowd

And as much as I crave this feeling,
I know I’m indulging in poison on my own will

If they love me they’ll want what I can’t give—
They’ll want affection that I can’t think of giving
They’d want to put stars around my scars
That I would much rather keep hidden to myself—

I’d want them to chase me,
But I’d never them them close enough
To discover the infection that has spoiled my blood—
And left me cold.

I wanna kiss your lips,
But not because of the love I feel for you

I wanna hold you close to my chest until we finally rot away and our flesh combines as our body’s disappear from this morbid Earth that’s cursed me of loving the unloveable.

When I squish your heart that was made too big for your chest,
Into mine that was never made quite big enough.

I’ll finally feel the fulfilling feeling of having my heart full—

Maybe then will I finally love being able to love.

I love not to be loved—
But to be dissected
I want you tear me apart limb by limb
And look inside—
So I can prove the infection hasn’t rot all the way through
My bones

I want you to rip my organs out—
One by one
From a rotten cavity in my chest
So I can prove my rotten exterior
Isn't the product of faulty wiring

I’d let you drain all of the blood
That runs through my broken veins
To prove my blood isn't the reason for my DNA—

So I can prove,
I wasn't created rotten.

Everything that’s alive breathes—

But not everything that breathes is alive.

Is it still love when the only thing given is physical?

Cats tend to hide their pain till its too late—


I suppose that’s something we have in common.

Parents love their children—

But whether or not they like them is another story.

I saw a glimpse of freedom—
It’s light poured through my window
The warm glow so inviting,
Yet so ominous—

If I took this light and held it tight
My chase would end I’d be right—

But when I take this light,
My heart will stop

My world would end,
And my dreams will parish

My mind will be empty
And my thoughts are let free—

Free of the pain I’ve endorsed in the night—
Free of the light that always chased for freedom.