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NA Aug 2017
My patience has been stretched inordinately thin,
My back bone has started to spear through my skin
and I will not snap it back in place
to make
you more comfortable.
I see through you
and your slimy, translucent, skin.
I promise I notice
every bit of effort you do not put in.
It sinks my heart into my stomach,
And every truth Ive been swallowing will be regurgitated and spit out before I am sick again.
My back feels like it's going to break from bending over all the cracks in your concrete,
While you step on mine,
Thinking you are somehow above me this way, but dear,
we all crack the same.
Just in different places, and at different paces.
And I have been running down only one ways
lately.
But these roads don't lead me any closer to you, they drive you away, and if you think i can run forever,
While you stay the same,
You are grievously  
wrong.
I can only give so much.
And at the end of the day,
I will love the people who reciprocate that love back, and meet me halfway.
I will love you always,
but for a love that hurts more than it heals, I can not wait, and I will not stay.
NA Jun 2017
Dirt under my nails
From trying to bail
out on reality
The night before.
Shakes, spins, sweats,
and I can't wrap my head
around the kind of self sabotage this is. If it's not helping me, it's hurting me.
If you're ignoring me,
don't think I won't leave
because I will.
My footsteps are heavy
and slow;
steady
I know.
but I have come a long way
plenty of suns before.
there is no way to go
that is too far.
no companion
that tries too hard
And nothing that grounds me more,
Than love.
NA May 2017
I have always hated
Cutting my hair
Any shorter than too long,
But this spring I
Left my locks behind,
And I started to become.
NA Oct 2016
I am nothing. I feel nothing, lay down and become anything else but everything existing. I become the blankets and the pillows; still, and always inanimate, but soft, feathery, floating. I exist in my head, in your pipe, in my memories, burning away to nothing. I'm not real, right and wrong have no definitive lines and I am wrong all the time, nothing and wrong and right and tired. I sleep and become my dreams, all I want to do is sleep because I don't exist in this life. I don't exist by any means, If there is no evil, only absence of good, then I am empty; hollow. Someone cut me opened and scooped all the real and good things out, carved me like a pumpkin, and smashed me when the candle burnt out. Smashed me because I burned too loud, or not loud enough. Love slips through me the way sand slips through your hands even when you hold tightly. It would take me infinity to reciprocate any affection given to me, so it's easier to leave than to wait. I'm bruised with good intentions that keep spreading across my body and anytime something good touches me, it hurts. Anytime I feel anything, it hurts. So I became nothing. I am always nothing.

— The End —