Smirk pianos, shave the bindings off the back packed Americans back pack.

Stop picking up two chairs,
When you can only carry one

You're the itch on my back,
that I can't ever scratch,
Belistic bohemian,
The headache,
That never parts ways with my aching brain,
Please just butter me up,
& tell me I'm alright,
You crack in the side walk,
You glass in the sand,
Hold me tightly never let go of my hand.

I lied and told her I ate, so I could take the medicine that makes me lose my appetite and stay up all night with fevers and cold sweats. Goosebumps that leak into my heart, they stay there unnoticed until the shivering begins to quake and ache and rock my body back and forth into a suicidal dream. But hey, at least I'll be skinny.

I finger myself to your words. Touched by yours truly, truly touched by yours

And I know that I want you, I could dress all your wounds. Wrap them in silk, kiss the pain off your shoulder blades. Love like felt. Feel the tension uncoil, fleeing your arms. In one simple embrace. Forehead kisses, nuzzling noses. This picture puts me to sleep.

Lioness, at bay, lapping up your waters.
Every single day.
Finding comfort in your claws, your teeth,
She kisses your jaw,
Falling in love with those ember eyes,
Running & touching & rolling,
Through the maze of weeds,
Stand down wind,
Violent breeze,
Find solitude in the fur,
The tendons in her legs,
They ache for you,
As you run run run,
Catch up with your mate,
But he doesn't want to play...calm down love.

If we take the same bite at the same time with the same *** is it plagiarism?

you've never seen me in color, only black and white. my features hidden, only brought to life by light.

Nothing in these cabinets could satsfy her hunger. Just cuts and blood along her wrists and hips curved her appetite.

My fingers are slaves,

He said you have that talent and that baby and you wear it so beautifully. Eloquently, like none of their harsh words ever mattered, like you didn’t scrub away your finger prints wiping off the excess opinions.
Like you weren’t ever crucified for your weight and how you chose to carry it or sit it down when you got weary. Like loneliness was never a cloak you cradled with you. Like quiet was your nature and loud was your opening act. Like people weren’t diving in to receive more and leave you less. Girl, you have that talent and that baby and you wear it so beautifully.

Clouded thoughts, like Cycloped clams. Shriveled up, beneath the sand. Wash away, gasp. Wash away, gasp.

And if I roll over, I know you'll be there,
With sad broken eyes, you'll convince me to throw away all my knives, the pang in my chest won't go away, you'll pull me close, not bothering to tell me it's okay, because you know the kind of girl I am, & your presence is like daggers, mixed with guilt & relief, I cry because im just a daughter trying to find my way in life.

I always wear my glasses on top my head, to think clearer.

call it fate call it karma*
I was naive, men don't love, they tear a part.

If I sing louder than, the barking at my heels, I'll make it.

and when we broke up because I had no eggs in my basket, and the cheating truth came out, and war was on the inside of your mind, they taught you how to use the gun on yourself but most importantly on me.

and if my finger tips touched my lips, would it kiss away the sadness on my skin

If this is all but a dream, I'll wake up tomorrow & go back to sleep. Praying you'll be, in the seams of my love...

They laugh because you're freaking fantastic kid

ive always wanted to know why a raven is like a writing desk & why it was so important to know*

they say it was an inspiration from Poe

But in reality everything is a *theory

He said I'm never going to be anything.
He told me I'm a failure.
I looked back, and said a failure is something.

i wrote a letter on a napkin,
Left it in the break room for all to see,
Butterflys & dragon wings,
Dented brains,
Zombies are lame,
Apostolic Atmosphere,
Coke pancakes,
Canadian convos,
Metaphorically you're a drawr in reverse,
I'm not ****** just lonely.

Feeling a little bit crazy,
Lifes getting kinda hazy,
Is this more than a crush?

Mom, such a foreign word
I have one, I know one, I am one
And yet I haven’t begun to understand the meaning

Something comforting about how the gears grinds and clicks. Like you’re in control of what happens next.

You can’t say no, to a question that you were never asked.

I'll be what you need me to be, for a second or a minute or a month. I'll turn around, and hold my gut. As you get dressed, I didn't think I would become a ****. I didn't even mean to...

I've got those ******* child blue eyes,
That make all the bad boys fall in love.

I wonder what's under that skin?

I'm not in the mood, said the girl bent over backwards for a guy that just wants nudes.

I'm not in the mood, said a girl numblingly tracing grains back to their roots. Because family is everything.

I'm not In the mood, said a girl who just got the news that her granny won't be here to see summer.

I'm not in the mood, said a girl who plants memories in flower pots, donating dimes and nickles. Just incase she could bring her back.

I'm not in the mood, I said.

Soooooooooo you tryna, **** me or nah?

I’ve never danced with my demons, only begged and pleaded for them to let me stand on my own two feet. But I’ll bury my head in the sand and listen to the music of the ****** that is my favorite karaoke.

I keep my loss in a cup, drink it down then I spit it back up. Just to taste you on my tongue again.

It was a moon dusted, half framed seedless joke, To think anything other than your arms were home. Tears, more like water stains, the Apple of her own eye. "No one will love you" she whispered, "more than you will love yourself". It doesn't make you selfish, just empty. The bible at her bed side table hasn't been opened in quite a while, cause she's bleeding, bleeding from the inside out, oh she's needing, needing a miricale. Opening that book only brings her to reality, soaking in all the negativity. She's just a girl. This worlds too real, for a little lady made of steal at a young age, but she's still soft, she's still hopeful. Always forgiving, the hand that beat her. Down.Because her skins too thin to withstand, the way your words hammer scars into her wrists. She's fading out, like one of those stars she admires so deeply.

Today is the emptiest day of my life,
Flesh became words,
Such simple verses,
That didnt mean anything,
To you,
Can I still keep a place in your heart?

I read other girls poetry, sounding like whole hearted whispers, I read mine, hard winded sand storms. I'd apologize, but I've fallen in love with my writing half heartedly. Like a *****, or a mechnical robot. Stuck in a time warp, sinking in solitude. Who knows when I'll come back, but I'll write. And that'll be enough. So fall out of love, fall out of hate, but please don't forget what I wrote. Never a legend, always a poet. & that's **** near close...

Addition & subtraction, smoke blunts with God. Get satisfaction, I write poems about hating myself. Yet I don't change. And no matter how many times a day I hate summer, the climate stays the same. When all I would have to do...is move. Pack up my things go.
PowerPoint of the sixth day of creation. When God wept for the nations, I sat back & smiled. The realization of miss communication. We don't have to stay here, when you can just **** yourself. Mix my ashes with the pages of old bibles, trace the ruins of old fathers. That claimed they love their daughters but turned away too soon. Father's Day is coming up, pops I bought you a balloon. Filled with my thoughts. I pop it every single night. I mean it's only been 9 years since the last time that I saw you. Spoke to you. Pleas I'll smoke with you, roll up my sleeve and get cracked with you. Please just look at me, the way dads are suppse to. He cracked my jaw today, I'll write about the pain when I remember how to describe it. I thought it was emotional abuse, and then I found the bruises on my body. Come to find out I've been lying to myself, what a hobby.

How far do you go? All the way. Lololololollll

Those of us who make up poems,
Have agreed not to say,
What the pain is,

I learned pretty quick, that unless you're compleltly falling a part. You're good! Just gather up the remains, add some duct tape. Don't complain.

What's the point in living, no ones listening anyway. If I had to say goodbye, it would be this way. A sloppy half drunk poem, with no meaning. Goodbye

Relapse & recap,
To the girl you use to be,
All your hopes & dreams flushed down,
The toilet,
Cheeks flushed red,
Angry at myself again,
Better off dead,
A mistake you said,
I was,
Knives & needles,
Are my bestfriends,
They know me from the inside,
We share the same blood,
Metaphorically of course.

I remember when you came to my room at dawn. Your voice held so much purpose, it echoed out, “she’s going to **** herself”. I smiled still asleep.

I remember when I came to your room at dusk. My voice held so much purpose, it echoed out, “ I’m going to **** my self”. I smiled still asleep.

This morning in the shower,
My tears hotter than the water,
Beating on my bare back,
Sliding down my legs,
To form pools at my feet,
I miss you,
This afternoon in the shower,
Leaning against the cold wall,
Finding anything to keep me stable,
Everything a blur, I'm getting swept away,
I miss you,
After work in the shower,
Sobs racked my body,
I can't keep it in anymore,
I smashed my fist into the tiles,
All it did was echo,
Back into my brain,
To bury itself deeper,
So Id never forget,
FOR THE FOURTH TIME TODAY IN THE SHOWER, I CRIED AND THE TEARS ROLLED,THE DIZINESS CAME BACK TEN TIMES WORSE,  MY MOURNING COULD BE HEARD FROM DOWN THE HALL, MY FIST BRUISED AND ******, BUT THE FOURTH TIME I SCRUBBED, I SCRAPED EVERY FOUL WORD OFF MY BODY, EVERY SCARR AND EVERY EMPTY APOLOGY DOWN THE DRAIN, I SCREAMED UNTIL GOD PUT HEADPHONES IN, THATS WHAT HE USUALLY DOES WHEN IM CRYING, THE FOURTH TIME MAYBE NOT THE LAST TIME,

Tonight I wanted to die,
You'll never know,
The shower will never forget,
I cried my sadness into the foundation of its very existence,
They still say,
It sounds like weeping,
When the waters running.

I call so many men daddy a night, I named this stage in my life fatherhood.

It's not about the fact that I can get the dress on, it's a about how quick I can get it off. And the answer to the equation is that boys like sleeping in there own bed. The problem is that the sum of life is ***. The square root is love, but no one rounds it up.

They say you can tell a lot about a woman, by the way she takes her clothes off.

Flightless bird with you, with him I always find the wind beneath my wings.