don't tell me my eyes are like the ocean
-you'd drown in there, I'd push you under-
and don't tell me that the fire inside of my ribcage can sometimes be mistaken for a heart

I haven't felt like writing much, lately
I haven't felt like a lot of things I used to
I haven't felt

but the world doesn't like to see broken veins, I guess, or broken hearts so clearly portrayed,
but this is simply what you've done to me.
You've laid me out on a table,
you've stripped me down, you've said, "Now what makes a growing girl tick,"
and I rolled my eyes back into my head - I'm trying to make sense, I'm trying to make sense-
the world is so small when I run into you again in another life, after I've moved on,
but your eyes and fingers almost pull me back to right now,
drowning.

pluck out my ribs,
sprinkle them with salt
I hope they taste bitter-
make me someone I'm afraid to become
wash me in a tub full of blood
(maybe it's just full of red feathers)
(or hearts that pump nothing but *******)

what is it with people like us
we wake up one day and decide to burn our notebooks
and invite the dark we used to be afraid of
to come in and play

I can't remember how to sleep
someone please punch me into the memory

nothing feels more real than movement
than that dance floor
than my sore muscles and aching bones
than my inevitable heart break when life doesn't turn out the way I had hoped.

but **** my wrists are so empty
you made them this way and I am grateful
but I am also addicted to the pain
and I am triggered and dark
and it is late and I'm alone
but I don't have any razors
so I am left clenching my own teeth
BEGGING THAT ONE DAY THIS FEELING GOES AWAY

It's not fair of me to go with my gut
because my gut has also told me
that I am a failure and I always will be
that I've lost my mind and can't even see
how ugly I am, and how I'm better off dead
My gut is the awful voice in my head
It has said I should bleed and lick razors all night
that I need the dark because I can't handle the light
It tells me to cry when I should be smiling
When I should be awake, it makes life too tiring
I've thought of getting rid of it - so it can no longer say
but that's exactly what it wants - for me to decay.

but the feeling of blades
and fire
and destroying things in the middle of the night
is somehow addictive.

Addictive like your tongue and words, addictive like most dangerous things.

**** it
bad decisions might become my middle name
and there's not a thing in my mind
stopping me from an inevitable
disappointing life
because
the **** I taste with every breath
and the **** I hold from the bottom of my heart
might as well
*******
**** me

Everything can seem so crisp
but I wonder if your love story is genuine
and if those are just drunk eyes
or maybe sad eyes.

I haven't slept at all
I don't think I will
...

bags under my eyes
i'm sleep deprived
i just might cry
but so much tiiiiiiime

bones creak
like doors opening
when they break
and I only know this because once I carried my twin brother home after his foot crushed in half
he fell off the monkey bars and cried.
I've never broken a bone, but I've felt broken

How much love can I really hold, though
in the palm of my hands,
as if it is ever so strong to be visible, as if I could watch the blood of it fall down my forearms and pool in the crease at my elbows
I am trying to hold so much in place
you make me want to,
you make me feel like it doesn't drown me, like it can't.
I just can't tell which blood is thicker
yours, covering my skin, filling my pores
or maybe the blood lining my throat, preventing me from kissing you the way you like
the blood of my scabby feet moving along dance floors.

I know it's hard, sometimes
to keep yourself in sight
but don't go blurry
do not go dull
remember that you are vibrant, after all.

but it's always been my worst of nights that I write my best
the nights that I want to cut myself and lick my blood off of your chest
the nights that my eyes suffer and sting because they don't get rest
nights I miss the sunset because I was looking east when I know it's west.

I've missed bruising my skin and bones from hitting them off of dance floors,
I've missed feeling a connection between my soul
and my body
and my mind.

Let me slam into the ground so I can finally let
all of my frustrations out
through more than crunches and squats and push ups,
let my body tire out so I can finally let
the world spin around
and around and around and around

and I will be turning with it.

A night that feels like years ago
but was really merely seconds
creeps into your dreams
(not that you're sleeping)
and reminds you of how good it felt to get under your own skin
(you deserved it, you little ****)
and after the memory makes you sink into your own skull so deep you can't even hear the morning birds chirp you into reality,
you walk face first into closed doors, trying to slam through
and the door handle is right there
but your hands are tied behind your back
tied so tight it's cutting
(this is what you wanted, ISN'T IT?)

listening to alternative music
while ripping my limbs off of my body
this
this is 3am
and
dedication

I want your lips to tremble as I look you in the eye
and hook my fingers in your belt loops.
Lick my lips,
I am a big meal to take in,
and being a bad influence takes a lot of work, you know.

I have always been mediocre at best
but you never make me feel that way.

but the way my face feels when you look at it
is very
very different
than the way it feels when I look at it.

Your ******* sad eyes and sad arms and sad body,
"can you take this cigarette a moment?"
so I grab it from between your sad lips
and your temporary teeth smile at me.

I held the cigarette between my fingers and I swear I could taste you-
your sweat, your lips, your sadness

the bodies all break,
as one by one,
we walk to the ocean.
The salt spreads out my hair, puts holes in my clothes,
I try hard to keep calm,
but my lack of breath keeps me stuttering sentences,
"I...I promise I love you, it's just, I wanted to s-see the sun...hit the water."

hey how about you treat me
the way you treat yourself
on your darkest nights
after letting your mind slip away from you...
but I guess it's best to control the mess
from splattering me all over the walls.
(spare me the insults, just grab me by the neck)
(I guess I like you best when you're honest)

I pretended to be the elements
like maybe being water, earth, air, or fire
would help me break the habit
of
being
*******
disappointing

light me like a cigarette
snap me like a bone
I have never been anything but selfish,
so why aren't you
using me
using me
using me
for yourself.

you are a grave and I am the flowers
you wait for me ever so softly...
I try to be pretty, you try to remember
just let your brain melt out so smoothly...
there is no more grass surrounding your tombstone
and I struggle hard to survive...
You reach up and pull me under the soil
"come on, you're a waste being alive."

I press the wrong keys and lay my head on your chest, missing you ahead of time because I know you'll have to leave. Your kiss tastes like winter, but my living room smells like fire,
and I don't know what that combination makes, nor do I know where I fit in.

2. I told myself I'd go to sleep
    but all I am doing is staring at this ******* screen.

3. Are we intertwined yet because all I can imagine is the branch I have for arms, the leaves for fingers, I've got a big *** trunk heart and you came along and drilled yourself a hole right in the middle of me so you could live in there.
You know, the hole stays with me, but you won't have to.

Hands brush our skin
in hopes of feeling something again-
all we feel is the wind
and they're left with empty chests.

God, my ankles hurt,
my head,
my legs,
but you know what doesn't?
My heart.

Thanks for that.

I am a sinner
in the sense that I want you to bone me so hard right now,
I am a sinner
in the sense that that's all I can think about.

My sadness is not the type I'd like to get noticed for - I don't need help or comfort, it is not out of my control. I just need to bury myself under blankets sometimes because the weight of the world seems to push my shoulders down over my heart and it pushes tears out of my eyes, but I can never explain how or why, and I can never tell when.
And every time i'm held me and asked, "Why? Why are you sad?" I never have an answer because
I
don't
know
why.

I used to think maybe if I held my breath long enough,
the universe would send me something -
a boy, the wind, the sun's beams -
to get me to take at least one more fresh intake of air.

I quickly learned that, in life, you never get handed anything.
You must either politely ask for what you want
or grow a pair and go grab it.

I want to hole-punch my heart
give out the circles of it I made
as prizes to the winners of my new game,
'Can Anyone Guess Where Molly's Head Went?'

Your sly tongue wraps around my rotting teeth as you punch each molar out
so I can taste the feeling of abandonment and pain.
"Leave it to me," you said, taping a picture of yourself to the roof of my mouth,
"to give you an excuse to break every promise you swore you'd keep."

I thought your smile looked wicked in my dreams,
as you tore my insides apart with the hands you used to hold me in
and now my veins all lead into the dark of the night
trying desperately to carry light into my own heart,
but all my heart can see is black
and that is why I am selfish
and my teeth are rotting
and I can drink my own salty tears and laugh.

I want to look so fragile as I lift my entire body off the ground with just the palm of my hand
and I want you to see my ribs as I fold myself in half
and I want to point my foot into another world because
maybe there I am beautiful.

I can't stop myself from rolling over my shoulders and wanting to arabesque every time I need to reach a hand
please don't stop me from tearing my muscles for this feeling that will never let me go.

I'm going to mess up
I'm going to mess up
I'm going to mess up
I want to stay on this stage forever.

But next to my tombstone, sunflowers won't grow,
and what would it matter anyway,
I wouldn't be there to see them

I've been listening to the same song on repeat
feeling how ***** my teeth are
and instinctively pointing my aching feet to the wall
sniffling with sickness and sneezing with crap
you still kiss me like I'm your supermodel.

my life will be much like a mountain that I am too afraid of. Afraid of tripping and losing grip and falling all the way down to where I started. I know I can't depend on anyone to catch me there at the bottom, so I'll have to rely on the concept of hope - that it helps.
I want to be successful
but it's a slippery, slippery ***** and a fast drop
and one big hell of a chance.

The first time you kissed me, it was a peck goodbye and I didn't see it coming.
I didn't see you coming.
I secretly cried to myself on the way home
because what I know now I knew then-
we'd fall apart someday, like they always do.

The faces blur every time I try and come up with, "hello"
and you've never been a friend of mine, but I could never let go
because if you would ever want to maybe look in my eyes
I could show you one ******* ride, a solid good time.
(scream)
Come get it, come get it
I dare you
to try and get it, come on and get it
Lick up my thighs slip through my tide
can't say goodbye
We could stop time.

I start another year tomorrow of solid routine
but all I want to do is find a warehouse to play music in
to drink in and **** in
find a place where my name does not reek of my labels
find a place where the walls can never remember me.

Everyday, I don't always brush my teeth
I never let me fall asleep
I bite the skin around my fingernails until I ******* bleed.
I only shower when I smell
if I'm worried I never tell
am I even taking care of myself?

I don't even have rhythm so where the **** am I going with my life.

Don't pretend that you know me
because I bet you didn't know I could count to 3000 in less than 3 seconds,
want to hear me? It's the same sound as a girl pulling a trigger. Bang.
-
"Bang me right here," I'll say, a smirk on my face, daring you to dare me to say it louder.
You would blush and we wouldn't.
(we'd have to be crazy)
-
that's crazy you're crazy
the purple beneath your eyes - it's crazy
you need a crazy amount of rest
you're acting like a crazy person
what is crazy and who ever decided it wasn't normal?
-
If I called you and said, "Be there in 10,"
what would you prepare yourself for?

We better do something crazy before I get bored.

In some moments, parts of me are dead
the parts that feel love and lust
the parts that drive me, that make me want to succeed,
that make me give a ****.
In some moments,
all of those wonderful parts of me disappear
and I am left with the part of me that wants to stare at a blank wall until my own blood covers it up.