Feeling self destructive
How does one feel so?
I wouldn't know how
But I know how it goes

I'll get ******* at everyone
Turn of the telly and cut the tube
I'll say to myself, "I'm ******* done."
And I'll not sleep, like normal

Music won't do its good deeds
I'll smoke half a cigarette,
But put it out & do some speed
I'm just kidding, I don't do speed

I'll grind my teeth a little
Feel my eyes tighten into suspicion
Play the world's smallest fiddle
For my own sorry ***

You'll find me where the sand meets the grass.
Where the forest and the trees meet the beaches and the seas.
The mountains high and mighty and the ocean far and fierce.
One foot in sand,
gently warm and mysterious.
One foot in grass,
cool and calmly curious.
I'll wait for you there until the sun and sky collide.
When the whispers of our universe softly lay us down to sleep
and our souls fly side by side...
Hurry please because we do not have long.
You'll find me where the sand meets the grass.

A comet fell last night

and I saw the universe inside a flower...

the light and darkness full of power...

then God came and said a few words.

and I was left shaking on the floor.

I must confirm my existence
I grasp and hug and pinch and feel
Anything I can get my hands on
Just to prove it's real

Everything is vibrant with
Breath
In and out
Right and left
The colours expand
Contract
Disappear
Come back

It's all too surreal
Must be my imagination
A little of this and that
A total compilation
Of everything
That was and is
All that's bad
And all my bliss

Life's too short
To not just be
There's so much to do
And so much to see
And everything
Is so **** right
I'm terrified
That at the end of the night

*I'll wake up

I'm sorry for the way that I am;
For all of my flaws, all of my insecurities.
I'm sorry for the way that I am;
The way I gravitate towards you,
the way I light up when I see you.
I'm sorry for the smile that plasters across my face
when you tell a story.
For the way I think about you always,
writing thousands of words to try to describe you.
For how I instantly miss you,
craving your voice,
craving your warmth.
I'm sorry that I constantly sing
the notes of your name.
I wish you could hear the melodies I can create.
I'm sorry for always trying to be happy,
but failing regularly.
I'm sorry for being kind,
caring too much,
and hoping for a better tomorrow.
I'm sorry for being jealous.
For all the times I was too protective,
for the times I watched you cry and didn't grab your hand;
For the long letters I've written you,
the pictures I was too shy to take,
and for losing who you used to be.
I'm sorry for not being enough for you.
For being so dark, such a tortured soul.
For the scars on my wrist,
the imperfection of my body,
the half hearted smile.
For letting myself care too much.
I'm so sorry;
So sorry, for the way that I am.

I inhale
until the fabric of my lungs burn
stretched
and then collapse

I still feel cheated

did you steal the oxygen too?
or maybe just enough
that I'd never feel full

punishment
for surviving
I suppose

there's something about
'****'

not scatological.
the edge.

the sacred,
bitter, hit.

deliberate.

of someone saying it,
spitting the
syllable-

while wearing a stolen
black leather jacket
and red lipstick
stubbing a cigarette
and cursing sideways at
'men and their...'
back handedness.

from an artist's mouth...
maybe a woman's...

but the taste
it's like metal

it always cuts-
just right.