i hate the way i say "i love you"
before even finishing the i
i am waiting on you
to tell me not what i need you to know
but what i needed to hear

I don't want to be like this

Hopeless for no good reason
Anxious for nothing
Sitting on my *** worrying myself to bits when I know for a fact getting up and doing something would help

I'm sorry

avoidance
isolation

my protector
my savior

and the knife that cuts too deeply the softest parts of me

honey, you can't save anyone but yourself and honey,
nobody can save you but yourself.

Honey, it's too much
I love you, but it's too much
I can clean up the broken chair, cup your ****** hand in mine
But I cannot stop you from doing these things, or feeling the feelings that cause you to do this
You feel broken, you break something
And it breaks me
Every time I see or think of you, I worry
My mind is too full of worries to even think about anything but them already
Please, understand if I need to step away
If it seems cold, please know if anything, I love you too much
I'm sorry

"what a beautiful day"
I say from the stale side of the window pane
I retreat beneath my sheets

there's something about rawness
i can't help but plunge my fingers into
even though I know it'd be best to just let it heal

Let myself go?
I have been fighting to live
Not just survive
So if a couple of pounds is my punishment
I will take it
With a side of fries

i used to believe in magic

I remember in third grade
My perception snapped as if suddenly waking from dream (this dream being childhood)
I realized I was wider both ways than the girls in my class I found my gaze linger on
So I began to hold in my stomach at all times
Bedtime became uncomfortable due to being unused to relaxed muscles
Feeling failure flood me every centimeter that grew between my spine and my belly button

When I asked myself why exactly I'm still doing it, knowing beauty isn't the most important thing in the world and that I am tired and uncomfortable
I hear my brain answer
"Well, it'd be rude not to", and though I know it isn't true, I can't imagine filling this belly with air without the feeling of flooding.

I have some more to work on.

Letter to my body and soul:

I am so sorry for everything I've put you through. I can't believe you guys are still there for me despite how I've treated you.

Thank you.

Tell me that you miss me
That I'm not the only one who would find my mind drifting to the scent of your soap scrubbed skin fresh out of the shower
The gentleness with which you cupped my cheek
The stolen kisses that upon looking back, feel more like a fever dream than a memory
Tell me, I am not the only one who felt the magick I can't help but to believe may be found only between two loves who once shared a soul

I know what I want
(you)
I know who I need
(me)

I don't want to write poetry anymore
I don't want to feel the need to
I just want to be me without feeling the need to explain myself  (mostly for myself since nobody knows I have this site)

Maybe I can be the girl you want me to be

If I always get a chance to fall asleep after you so I get a chance to cry and comfort myself if I need to

If you look away long enough for me to sneak a chill pill

If you can accept my tenseness because I'm too afraid to shake in front of you

If you can take me slowly changing, losing my kindness and softness

To cater to your calloused heart

And probably, all of this would still not be enough

More than anything I would love to find my other half
To stand in an empty room, knowing I have grasped her hand and pulled her in and up from the depths
To look in the mirror and see the only person who makes me complete

I am afraid to love someone like me
I am afraid to admit that I am someone like me
Someone who has thought of taking life into her own hands
When the world will not stop spinning (but I haven't touched a drop)

I want to peel back
The layers of myself I've let callous over
For you
For you only
But even though they're not supposed to hurt anymore
They scream upon the feeling of my fingers tearing
Or maybe it's the new skin
Afraid to be exposed

Either way
I love you
And I am so sorry
For being so sensitive
For being so tough

you are not the sun and I will bloom without you.

Sit with me
By the river
Beneath the stars

Tell me all the things
I don't want to hear
In a voice softer than the whisper of the water wisping pasts the stones our toe tips touch

I want to hear a voice to the things that want to make the least noise
I want you
Even if the sounds we make are not always beautiful
Even if it doesn't sound like water wisping past stones in a river

hedonism has lead me to want nothing but
more
just this once turns into
anytime, anywhere
happiness is relative
sadness is unfathomable
because there is always a fix
always a high
sorry I've been acting so low
I preach that not all who wander are lost
but i happen to be
to live a life dependent on selfish highs
or regret every decision I don't make

I miss you
I might always
But maybe we're best for each other when there's a little distance between us

Too close and I can't tell where your tears begin and mine end

I fear together we'd drown

it's odd to think
some people love cherries, or rainy days, or the quiet
and others despise those things

how can some people hate what others love, and vice versa?

Hello
I am
The ugly friend
Would you like to fall in love with me
And then leave me when you meet the souls of the goddesses I am so lucky to call my friends?

I really think sometimes
I was born to be an artist

This brain
This heart
These sleepless nights

But these hands
Tremble through every art piece
And spasm across strings
throat or instrument
And the words I write
I know, aren't as good as they feel getting out

But
I must remember
That's what art is
Art is your soul escaping you

Even if the end product, you can't stand to look at or listen to

Art is soul escaping from body

And if you

Or I in this matter

Can't appreciate that

Well, you thought you knew what art was

But you don't

I now find myself feeling a bit ill, when I'm complimented on my
words, touch or skill
I fear they are all to love of me
and someone (a little voice in my head)
told me today
that your truest loves would love you even if you could do nothing but sit still

but I still find myself being scared of not being enough
though I am constantly moving

I've lived too many lives

Been too many different people

I just want to figure out what my life looks like, and live it

Figure out who I am, and be her

the only thing that my future guarantees
is that i will still be haunted by its uncertainty
and plagued by a past spent with my fists clenched trying to enjoy the present

You know what

Take it

Just take it

Take all that I have left
Swallow it
And **** it out

Tell me
It upset your stomach

While I stand with ****** hands hiding the hole in my chest

everything has the potential to break
even diamonds do

please, don't try to convince me otherwise

I refuse to, but
I want to drink very much at the moment
There is something about the dulling of my senses that helps make me feel more present
Finally, not feeling overstimulated
Distracted by my own morbid imagination
I just want to be normal
And sometimes it feels like it's the magic potion
But I know it's really poison
So I refuse to sip
(But goodness can I hear that clock tick, reminding me of every moment I waste white knuckling through the present)

I think I was only made to be a mother
But this century is telling me to be more
And I'm scared I can't

if I let myself feel the pain
from it's edges to its pulpy-est parts
I fear I'd never be able
To put the pieces back together the way they were at the start
And I cannot decide whether this would be a blessing or a curse

Whether I would be a phoenix
Or just ashes

I wish I could make you understand

How much I trust you

But also how much I love you

And how much I worry

When you slur your words
or your "tells" come out.

I don't know what to do.
I don't want to accuse you but I don't want to let you slip back into being addicted to something

I wish I had the brain and the heart to sleuth it out.

But I'm too tired right now.

And I am so sorry for the both of us.

Don't know why
But sometimes
I just want to die
And then I wake up the next morning
Thankful the pills and drink didn't take

I honestly don't want my people's world to quake
With the mistake of my bad decision
I'll stay here and try to make revisions
But I'm just not so sure they'll do the trick
I'm sorry if I leave you before my time has ticked

But I really do hate the bitter taste that will be left in their mouths
So I refuse to take it

You called me **** drunk again and asked me if I ever thought maybe I'd died and this was the afterlife

I said no

Not because I was done with your "pseudo-deep" questions and theories

Like you telling me how hard it is to be an empath after you got done ******* on me

But because I didn't want to tell you what I really thought

If there is an afterlife, you'd think it'd be kind of fair at least. I've done nothing to deserve this level of hell.

The level of hell you cornered me into.

I am tired of smiling
I am always looking for something to smile for
Any respite from this brain
But just as much because maybe it'll make others happy too

But the corners of my mouth are cramping
Cramping into a grimace

And I am tired of grimacing

I am tired of myself

I'm sick of waking up hungover, sober, sad, anxious, self diagnosed hypomanic (the therapist and psychiatrist say it's a no)
Downright, not right
But there's nothing to do
But to pry the sheets from my being
Pray for the best
And wade myself though it

Sometimes I think my long (ish) lost love has come back
That maybe she realized we were good together
We could be by each other's sides forever

That maybe we both realized we didn't need men to be princesses or queens

But I feel hesitant

Because she is too much like me

Locking onto a person who forces her to become a better being

And what if we can't hold each other accountable for what we want to be held accountable to be?

I love her too much

I can't even risk the possibly

hell now is a place that once tasted a lot like heaven
I'm burning up in rays I once basked in

I saw bars around me and thought "prison"
Just realized it was a cradle
And I could climb out whenever I decided to

I want nothing more in this world than to have a family

It's been my dream since I was probably too young to be thinking of such things

But I waited, and now at 24, the naivety that made that future glow seems to be dimming

Sometimes I don't know if I want to put children on this Earth

Knowing what they will have to witness on the news
Knowing they could be part of those events too

That they will likely need to work their butts off until they die
And all I can do is pray they can find a job they halfway like

Knowing there's a good chance I'm going to be working at a job that may make me not be able to be as present for them as I'd like to be, just so I can make enough money for their dad and I to make ends meet; I always hoped to be a stay at home mom and make them my priority

I want the best for them, and although I'd do my best, I still feel guilty that they'd have to experience the inevitable darkness in this world at one point or another

Is it selfish to bring kids into this world that we live in?

i want you in every way
internally
with a movment of hips
externally
strokes from fingertips
spiritually
our bodies but mere shells
enompassing souls that tap on chest cavities
i mistook it for my heart fluttering
i don't believe in love at first sight
but it was something
i fear it was
old souls reconnecting

when the tears taste good

that is when I notice the fog starting to lift

behind closed doors
i sit in nothing
but a pair of headphones
inhale magic smoke from my crystal
let her caress my lungs for
seven seconds before i
exhale her out the window
a shadow of what she once was
giving her life for my happiness
inevitably iridescent
i tiptoe to my bed and submerse myself beneath covers
letting the bass control the rhythm of my heart
because for once somethings giving it a start
i couldn't care any less if it killed me
i'm makeupless
void of vision
or senses in every sense of the word
i'm breathless and sleepless
i crave sweet release
but can't even form a thesis

I want to feel beautiful but
I don't want it to take
Skin and bones (but still **** and ***) to achieve it

I am heartbroken for the majority of me that used to believe my only worth in this world
Was to be a pretty thing

That my thoughts really didn't matter
My feelings, my tears, should be hidden
Beneath shame and bruises
Whatever it took, as long as it was kept inside
Rather than surface
And possibly be perceived as ugly

I am me
This is my skin
This is the stuff beneath it
****** and (maybe) ugly

But maybe,
Beneath it,
One of the most beautiful things that can be found in this world
Something to be seen beyond eyes
Something to be revered despite public disgust

And maybe, just maybe
It didn't matter whether it was pretty or not after all

I think
There is maybe a mutual understanding
Both for the best interest of ourselves and each other
That we put ourselves first
That we know we'd be okay
Though maybe not quite so happy
If the other left

A part of me thinks this love
May mean more than
The one who'd risk his life because
Without me this man could still live
He just would rather his life with mine in it

It's funny
Maybe a bit ironic
That I've cared so much about having a perfect appearance in the past
That I am now completely uninterested in trying to look even presentable
If I cannot find the energy to put into looking my best
If I can't muster it, I put no energy in

Anything half-assed and I feel I look like a joke, and I feel more embarrassed than going makeupless

I know I'm being needlessly rough on myself
But at times, I think, not rough enough

A battle,
It always seems to be a battle
Between polar opposites