Do you ever hug your pillowcase,
Face down, eyes searing through the light colored cotton
Like you’re trying to see through the fabric,
Looking for a reflection into your own head,
Searching for some peace of mind within you?
Peace of mind.
The one thing we all need the most, crave the most
All everyone says is keep looking, keep trying
It will come eventually -
*******.
So the search for serenity continues
It’s gotta be somewhere out there, right?
All that results is overthinking
Thoughts spinning out of control,
And consuming your entire mind.
And now it’s 4am and it stings in the shower
And I’m sorry if you understand that
Because it means you know exactly what I’m talking about.
I’m wondering about you
Wondering why this isn’t working,
Like when we’re sitting together,
You and me at dinner, and you won’t look up.
Is your phone prettier than my face?
I’ll never really ask because, yes,
I am that shy girl I sometimes refer to.
So I’ll keep on searching for answers to my questions
But the problem is that the answers are not inside my wrist
So I’m just going to hug my pillowcase some more,
Thinking about you, thinking about us
Letting the pain seep deeper into my heart.
It hurts because it matters.
And yes, I might wonder too much,
But I’m so obsessed with finding someone to love me
Because I can’t love myself.

And now it’s 5am, and I should probably go to sleep
So I can look okay when I see you in the morning.

You said my name today
And it brought me back to life.
It snapped me out of panic,
A state of complete and utter disorientation.
Your voice among a sea of screams
Scattered all my insecurities among the shadows.
I never realized how six simple letters
Could sound so much like a symphony,
With the beautiful hum of the bass
And the quaint flutter of the winds.
You woke me from my thoughts of sleep,
Though I can’t tell if they’re dreams or nightmares
When you’re in them.

Please don't play
with my heart,

I only have
a few pieces left.

This is not
hiding away,

I just don't want
to take any more of your crap.

Allow me to slip
into the darkness you created.

Let me
chase shadows.

I once used to run
with both my legs tied together.

Now I just lay down
wherever it is that I stop.

Please don't play
with my heart,

this is no longer
yours to keep.

I nothing know, but that only I to know.
Remote of all the turns the world it whirls.
I, prejudice secure, and yet outgrow,
For none I know remorse, but laugh absurd.
Preserve my afterthought before I wait:
A mind is forward by the past but weak.
While pure, it burns aflame, quick trait.
Not to forget, severe, to learn, not meek,
But learned, what will, does good improvement real,
Remembered thoughts advise us still the best
When merged of hope today, and proper seal:
One that is educated, rigor stressed.
I shall regard this post I call my life
As best a fool knowing blind the strife.

dear mom & dad,
i’m sorry i only write about *** and
alcohol.
the two skip hand in hand, with bedroom eyes
and laced up limbs.
but at least i only **** intelligent
men.
i made the mistake of moaning names
that held no publication,
cleaning someone’s blood lingering
inside vacant minds.

dear mom & dad,
i’m sorry i blame everything on you.
but let us be honest, your genetics have baked
a pie that tastes like
chaos and ethanol.

mother, esoteric, scripts i cut
my fingers on,
your bloodline is in every poem i write
about love.
i think we’ve both been falling for the
wrong ones.

mama, do you remember the dream catcher you broke?
feathers and glass.
my nightmares consist of knowing i will never amount to
anything.

father, knowledge like yours never ceases,
spilling and surging.
but you are sad. sad. sad.
i smell your smoke through cloths tattered.

beer was a better lover to you, than
anyone could ever be.
i have been in competition with inked, broken souls.
tell me i’ll win every gold medal.
i take everything from you,
but one day i’ll make you so ******* proud.

dear mom & dad,
the scars are slipping but the sound of broken
plates shake(quake) my nightmares.

dear mom & dad,
maybe we can sit and talk about our lives.
maybe i’d rather chug rat poison.

people say they lose people
& things
& that they also lose themselves
and other people say there is nothing to lose
because there was nothing to have
in the first place

some people say their new job
is making them lose
their soul
some people lose their keys
in-between couch cushions

but I think the hurt lays
between
the forgetting
and the remembering

forgetting how to feel the way you felt
once
upon
a
time

& then remembering
parts;
bits and pieces of moments
unable to stitch it back up
in its most authentic form

loss
is just the realization
of change
with fear inside of it

but then again,
some people really do lose their keys
in-between couch cushions.

Is there some kind of rule for
how many flashbacks
of you saying home
and forgetting the your?

Is there someone to answer
the question of how long
it takes to stop seeing
your clothes on the floor?

Is there any book written
on stages of heartbreak
and how to get over
not being enough?

Is there some sort of method
that makes us immune
for the things that destroy us
when we fall in love?

antioxidants, to help
we are poisoning ourselves with every breath
the records in the corner
crumbling underneath the dust in their crates
crunchy warm voices bounce off the sunrise
spinning around and crashing like cymbals
mist at 7 am and a cup of black coffee with two teaspoons of sugar
far away from life
in a corner, under a desk
all my friends want to be cool
i want to hide and be happy in a field
with a mug of steamed milk, with a sweet person
who tells me many things that make me smile
and query, and discuss
they will be the kind of person
i would braid my hair around
when i was listening intently, who would interrupt
themselves to point out a bird startling
and spreading it's wings
or how beautiful winter is under the surface of the sadness
how death is somehow majestic, in the way that
the earth can bring itself back to life after it has lain still and alone
for many months, she can still yield all the possibilities
of fruits in spring
he seemed confused by this idea
i was not upset by this
i was just a bit melancholy but not because of him
because of everything around us
he sees it as cold and uncomfortable
he doesn't understand why i walk outside every night
to teach my body to acclimate to the conditions, this winter
so i can accept it and become it without freezing over inside
and learn to love it as much as the warmth
he rolls his eyes, they all do, they roll their eyes and turn away
and ask why i don't put on more layers instead
why not three sweaters instead of one
why not fight it more, to keep your last skin thin and flawless
i only have one left, i dunno
one skin left, have to get it weathered quickly
before life boomerangs back
this skin is careless and has nothing left to care about
she laughs until she's crying and holding her belly
and she doesn't feel anything but tightening
everything is corroding us from the inside out already
i want to at least breathe in the direction of the moon
once a night