I need to stop
digging up love
And let it grow instead

The nice thing about being free
is that I can give other hearts
a chance.
Maybe this one will stay.

I should delete the poems
I wrote for you -
But they’re too beautiful,
too painfully true.

It hurts to see your name,
and know how quickly you cut me off -
but I suppose it allows me to move on
and find my happiness elsewhere.

"Love will come when it comes,"
but what if I need it now?

I'm so tired of being left alone.

A small lie
has torn us apart,
broken my heart,
and left me in the dark
again.

I am so sad
and so scared
but I can't let you see,
so I put on a brave face
and a calm voice,
and I guide you through the pain.

You keep cutting deeper and deeper -
but don't you remember what you told me?
"Every time you hurt
yourself,
it hurts me, too."
Your cuts leave scars on your skin
and my heart.
I wish we could both learn
how to stop.

I’ll meet you in Dreamland,
my love,
Where distance does not matter
and time does not exist -
We may lay in field
of fragrant flowers,
entwined together for hours and hours,
Forgetting the pain of
the world outside our eyelids
So that we may enjoy
the warmth of our hearts.

With you in my heart,
I can do everything
I used to fear.

I think my heart will burst,
as it is so full of love for you.
I think I may float past the clouds,
as I feel so light and free with you.
I think my soul has never been safer
as it is now here with you.
I think that I have never truly loved
as much as I do you.

We are magnets,
but we are too far away
to click.

You're in love with a brewing storm,
ready to burst into hot droplets
and scatter lightning in every direction,
unable to control the strikes.

Why do I suddenly just
want to die?
Why do I feel
like I'm 20 feet underwater,
letting myself sink,
with my tears fading into the sea?

Gentle melancholy blankets my heart,
sharing a space with the swell of love -
somehow, they mingle well,
like yin and yang.

I've been sitting in darkness for a while,
but you've brought me back to light -
I feel like I'm floating free,
and it is such a relief.

We spoke our hearts last night,
and, ah, you're so gentle and patient.
But how much will that be tested
by my own hidden storm?
I don't want it to drive you away,
nor from guilt should you stay,
I only want the truth today-
Is this love strong enough to withstand
my war?

Was last night real,
an exchange of fondness?
Or was my imagination
up to no good?
Did my heart really swell
right out of my chest?
Or did I go to sleep
with tears again?
Did you really say those three words,
over and over and over again?
Or am I finally crazy enough
to see false things?

Why can't I trust my own memory?

I worry about forgetting -
my memories aren’t sharp
like they should be,
everything is out of focus.
I can barely see what happened
one,
two,
three years ago-
My past doesn’t feel like mine.
I am losing my history.

It’s yellow outside
like the sun just died,
and faded to mist.
It’s eerie and and ominous,
a small warning, perhaps,
to stay indoors tonight?
I think I can smell lightning
in the air, silently hiding,
and ready to crash down on us all.

I’m ready for fall.
I’m ready for
My leather jacket,
which I wear like a second skin;
My fingerless gloves,
somehow both practical and not;
My trusty boots, clomping fearlessly through any weather;
Flannel every day, a timeless pattern;
A bitter breeze balanced by a lemon sun to make the perfect temperature.
I’m ready to watch the leaves turn to flames and dance through the neighborhoods,
I’m ready to smell the cider and pumpkin in every store.
I’m ready to start planning a disguise, to hide from the Hallow’s spirits.

I’m ready for fall,
the best season of all.

I can feel the sadness sitting in my chest, lapping against my ribcage like an agitated ocean. The tide is rising. I’ll have to fight to survive today. I wish the ocean would just stay calm, that warm waters could be all that flow through my veins. Instead, I feel like a broken faucet - spouting hot water one moment and cold water the next.

A storm stuck me today,
and you were the sunshine that
drove it away.

I
can't
stand
this
torture
anymore-
my heart is trapped in an iron maiden,
bleeding out more and more,
I can barely breathe
through this pain.

Why don't I just
explode
already?

My cheeks are still warm
from the blush you left me,
and I can’t get your smile
out of my head
(Not that I’d want to)
I worry that I’m falling too fast,
but my heart is a force to be reckoned with,
And it’s set a course to you.

And suddenly
when I look at you
my heart flutters
in way that it hasn’t done
in a long time.

"Where do you want to be in five years?"

Happy,
safe,
full of food and mirth,
and not wishing
to die.

I should be
in Dreamland
by now,
engaging in fantastical adventures.
But I stay in the real world,
force my eyes open,
just so I can drift into the gray between
of not awake, not asleep.

Let
me
go


numb


here in this half-asleep
state.

Let me blur the lines,
fade out from the world.

Let me exist as a breath
in the air,
a single dewdrop on
a small blade of grass.

Let
me


dissolve.

Mistakes turn me into
a bumbling idiot who can
barely tie her own ******* shoes
alone.

They call it high for a reason -
I'm soaring above the grass,
such a vivid shade.
The clouds swirl above me,
and I breathe in the breeze.

It seems that,
rather than hiding from it,
I have learned to
hold hands
with the darkness.
A cold grip,
but no colder
than my own.

I’m
just
banging
against
the
glass,
trapped
in
a
fishbowl
full
of
*****
water.

I never thought that
I’d be cursed
With such a darkness
that I feel now

The sun was always shining
in my child’s mind
but the darkness forced it out
slowly and painfully

So now I am stuck with
this darkest disease, unable
to find peace, unable to control
the monster sitting under my skin

I fear that it will eventually
destroy everything I am
before I can even
catch a final breath of air

This loneliness
is a painful hollow
in my chest -
There are people who
want to fill it,
but cannot.
So I sit
in this empty pit
and try not to cry.
I don’t know
if I can ever feel
right
again.

Why am I always abandoned,
why am I always alone?
Why am I always left to wander
down this dismal road
s o l i t a r y
With no one to turn to,
no one to cry on,
no one to tell  me that
they care;
Why am I always shoved right back
into this nightmare
right when I think I might be okay?

Why do I suffer this curse, this
disease
of solitude and fear?

I've been fine,
cheerful,
for the past few days,

but now the sickness creeps back in,
my heart grows heavy,
my veins fill with sludge.

My eyes are constantly brimming with tears,
and no one is here
with a shoulder to catch them.

I'll admit,
I hunger for attention -
but I avoid the spotlight for fear of
embarrassment.
I crave acknowledgment,
a mild fame,
but then I shy away.

No one ever notices.

I used to never sleep,
for fear of danger sneaking in,
but now I sleep all too well,
for it is my only escape.

Something is stirring
at the edge of my mind -
my fingers, twitching.
I wait for the blurry thought
to come into focus,
to enlighten me with this new
burst
of creativity.

It still sits,
out of focus,
out of reach,
unwilling to give itself to me
so easily.

I pace back and forth
and nibble my nail,
poking and prodding
at the thought,
persistent.

Still it refuses,

Then my mind goes blank.

I love too much,
and I love too many -
my heart is pulled in several directions,
so that I don't know where it truly belongs.

A year ago, we lost a voice,
the voice of broken souls.
We lost a man
who gave his heart
again and again and again.
We lost a soul
who was fighting too many demons,
who refused to let darkness destroy him,

we lost a man who lost a war.

On July 20, we remember Chester Bennington,
whose voice has resonated with millions.
We hear the music and we cry,
we watch his antics and laugh with tears in our eyes.
We remember his kind heart and determination,
and carry that spirit in us with every warm gesture we make.

Rock in Peace, Chester. We miss you.

I let myself
s
i
n
k,

I contemplate
d
r
o
w
n
i
n
g,

but I know that there is
l i f e
and
l o v e
waiting above,
so back up I swim.

There is
a pane
of glass,
standing upright
and surrounded
by several different people.

A large hammer
is swinging
repeatedly
into the glass,
cracking it
more
and
more
over time.

Eventually,
the glass
s
       h
    a
          t
  t    e
           r
      s
        ,
and the pieces fly
and hit the surrounding people,
causing wounds big and small.

The people stumble
and cry
and they wonder why
they could not see the cracks in the glass.
They wonder
if they could have stopped it
sooner.

But it's too late now,
and now they all bleed,
and now they all cry,
and some of them may die -

Because no one saw
the cracks in the glass.

She is a vibrant being,
radiating color and life,
Until the tears start flowing,
and wash the color away.

Is it really possible that
I could be hiding
a vicious monster
under this bright smile?

Yes.

I've got scratches on my shoulder,
and cuts on my thigh;
One came from love,
the other from self-hate.

I found a flower today
in a bed of dead soil;
The only flower growing,
defying the harsh weather.
I stroked its petals,
I whispered to it softly;
"I am proud of you
for surviving and being you."

My room smells like
spaghetti
in a peaceful meadow.

I don't know how to keep doing this,
keep living with this monster under my skin -
he likes to come out and play
when I least expect it.
He tears me to pieces,
or, rather,
makes me want to tear
myself
to pieces.
I hate it!

How can I keep living this way,
surely one day
he will win.