I've resigned myself to the company
Of my mirror
She's never left me.
        My shadow knows the truth.
The pain I bear is for me alone.
Why would I share?

Turning 18
I don't want cake.
I hunger for change.

When I thought that my heart could shatter no more,
That was when it tore.

I pick up my pen
intent on the drain.
I write 'til my fingers bleed.
I write 'til my wrist is numb.
With the pain of cramping
at the joints,
keeping my mind on point,
draining the pain
to anoint the page,
with the curse of living, again and again
with nothing left to gain.
Emptying my heart.
Draining my pen.

Traces of you linger
Scents, Sights, Places; Triggers
I can still taste your sweet breath.
I can still feel the ghost of the butterflies;
The haunting only your face brings.
Whispers of memory.
Tears have worn broken trails
down my face
crashing into the place
the eroded space
of my heaving chest.
Shallow breathing of a
heart, half beating.
The instinct to survive
hanging on by tiny thread.
One more memory
will send me over the edge.
I'm at the ledge,
I'm at the ledge
Toes hanging over.
Just a nudge.
*Just a nudge