I want to rip you apart
until you are merely fragments of human
ripped and vulnerable
then I could finally tell you
how I feel
about you
about us
about the way I strive for us to exist together
in this lonely universe.
I would glue you back
piece by piece
carefully and slowly
making sure you are still just as perfect
as you were before.
but I know that no matter what
you will be
you make my heart sing pure joy
just by the look you give to me
the sensation of your warm hands on my skin
nothing could make me feel more secure
even since the first time I saw you
my soul was awakened
I was given a purpose
to fall in love with you.
you don't love me though
and you never will.
I am nothing to you
just a foolish female
who will give you anything you desire
that is my own fault,
not yours
I have let myself lust for you
too many times
and now I am stuck
craving your presence and voice
your affection and promises
I know I am a sucker for you
and I am not sure
if I will ever not be

The ****** fuzz of adulthood
on the horizon
appears nearer than ever.

Crossing into frosty territory,
the frigid space between young
and not so young.

Six thousand five hundred
seventy four days
to get used to this voice.

To become familiar with these bones,
the way they crunch,
toes bent like ancient forks.

Days will be bloated with things
we never thought
we’d have to think about.

The ECG lines of our lives
flapping up and down,
a white wild skipping-rope.

They say it’s down to us now.
It’s our generation who will destroy,
then make flowers from the rubble.

when is it crossing the line?
when I am in front of it all
laid out on the table
seeking a potent euphoria
constantly wondering if I have done enough
but it is never fulfilling
on a search for a meaning in this mess
yet never finding one
there's always suspense
wondering if I am secure
the thrill is so intriguing
and too hard to give up

worth is not in my vocabulary,
I am without it.
there is no worth around me,
no value or importance.
leaving myself to believe
that worth is just a construct.
I will not focus on it,
for I am utterly useless.
holding on to anything
that will get me through the day,
nothing that contains worth.
there is no point in the world,
yet I am still searching for it.

My life will end
as a blank canvas
on an empty wall
in an empty house
in a street that no one remembers
I will fade into the endless black
drowned amongst
the many nameless
forgotten by all
who once swore
to remember me
I will lie dying
in a potter's field
with a wilting flower
and a first name only
I will never publish my words
and I will never show my art
And I will forget to leave this town
fading like every other here
who had big, but fragile dreams
I will always exist
but forget to live.