Surely, I deserve this. My tears are bittersweet irony; they stain my pillow as a mocking reminder of naïvety. This is what I get for believing that he could do no wrong. This is what I get for committing to a person and believing that I could turn his life around.   For dragging him through rehab twice in vain. For walking into his room on July 5th one year ago to find his unconscious body on the floor. For crying to the god that I do not believe in to save the only thing on this ******* miserable world that I love. To not let me lose him again. This is what I get for calling 911, for trying to hold back the tears so they could understand that my boyfriend overdosed on ****** in his bedroom. For waiting all night in the hospital only to be ignored by him for not letting him succeed on his suicide attempt. This is what I get for believing him each time he came back to me. For being the only security in his life.
These past years I have lost a lot. I have watched all of the closest friends drift away. And I held onto Landon with such consuming fear that I might lose all sense of familiarity. But it is so painful to love something that does not want to feel.
I fear I have lost everything in my life. There is no meaning in this life. I have lost mine.

I am depression.
Depression is me
and I am the one I am fighting.
I am the one that tears my mind
apart, that rapes the insides for every
vulnerable and clean vessel left.

I am used.
I am *****.
I am not worthy of a kind touch
I do not want a kind touch
I don't not want help
don't cry, don't say you love me
don't make me want this again.

I am tired.
I am hateful and jaded
but that all ties to the hurt that
I've been masking for years.
And now I just can't make the
effort to hide anymore.

I am so sorry
to the five year old girl
with big blue eyes and
too short bangs who thought
that dad could scare off the monsters.
But they still escaped the closet.

I am so sorry, dad,
I know you didn't want
your little girl to go through this
to feel this disease that has contaminated
this bloodline. And I am sorry of all
the future plans I might rob you of.

I am so sorry for wasting potential.
I am the girl who cried wolf
but I have been dead for quite some time.

"I don't want a relationship."

"Well...neither do I."

I found a boy
with blue eyes like yours
and soft words as yours
and a scar on the right side
of his face.

But the way he speaks
and stuns me by a glance
by a smile
as if I have known him for years.

I found a boy
that awoke the shadows inside
that painted my smile
and held my heart.

“YOU WON,” I screamed. The words sliced the inside of my throat as they rushed from my chest, the blood spilt on the table before I could even notice. I had been trying all this time trying to cover the gunshots with band-aids.
And he picked the scabs with fingernails because he knew he held the power. Kissing bruises into my neck and burning his fingerprints onto my collarbones. He was the most dangerous vandal, breaking me into a function only he could benefit from. And I would have paid no mind, for I thought that I was always meant to be his, but you see, he never meant to return. Only to conquer and collect, placed photograph upon many on his bookshelf.
The funny thing is: he was never competing. He never wanted to win because he never wanted to actually have me, just borrow. And he has yet to realize that it is not the anger that is misplaced, but rather the responsibility.
I should have never let myself get that close to the flame.

I saw the way it lit your eyes.
Since childhood the thrill of
melting wax and hissing fuse
spurred such excitement for
being alive.

Whispering wishes to lightning
buys, carrying light to the crystal
chandelier, lighting the miles ahead.
There the world stood still.

We breathed in the shadows
sighing their cries into the oppressing silence.
I threw myself from tall buildings
I’ve always wondered what it would be like to fly.

Spending nights in graveyards, dancing with ghosts
Memories were always my favorite friends.
But now they all have your face
and I find myself running away from home.

had always stood out from the others. He was the answer key that I had compared all others to. All of them fell short. For five years I was reluctant to give myself to him and I am unsure as to why except for the fact that every time the thought was considered, I pictured myself myself walking into an inferno. My entire being engulfed in flames; all of my nerved exposed. All so exposed...
Those before him were that compared to a virus. Running swiftly through my veins; my body burning in a constant fever. My own love was destroying me.
But falling in love with       was like rediscovering a sense that I had not known was disabled. I was able to see clearly for the first time in years. He wiped away the sleep from my eyes. The world was beautiful again. I never knew a touch could be so gentle, so loving. It had been so long since I've been held. I never knew words could sound so beautiful until when they glided off his lips.
Together we discovered the ability to slow time. Kissing his lips, I felt each second, each pulse pushing throughout his veins. The faceless boys before him were solely on possession. They consumed me entirely. There was no 'me'; I simply did not exist. I was not living.
      was nirvana. He freed me from pain and worry. He introduced me to pure beauty. I did not know that I was able to feel happiness anymore. He stayed*, and dug it out of me as if he had always known it was there. When I look in the mirror, I actually see my reflection. My smile. It's been so long...

Fearlessly and willingly, I walked into the flames. And in all of his beauty, he set me afire, raising me from the ashes of my shadows, freeing me. Able to stand on my own. I am finally alive.