It is 5 a.m. and I have been awake for days, it feels
It is 5 a.m. and I am almost a year older
but I'm not sure if stripping down to my underwear and ripping out my eyelashes
counts as a celebration.

how is it that you can be in love and think you have met the single greatest human,
and then you're not in love anymore and you suddenly meet so many new people
(they smell the single on you, i swear)
and a lot of the time they're boring
but then there are multiple kind souls and maybe you can make new friends and maybe not everyone ***** and maybe life is a continuous spectrum of meeting people your dumb young self promotes to the "greatest."
we are all young dumb ****** up vessels just
...trying...
hoping connections last and hoping the greatest one falls into place,
at least for a little while until you grow out of each other again
and start over

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.

drowning as a cliche
hoping a wave might catch my gaze
and pull me all the way under
(I am all the way under your covers)
wearing black as a default
maybe looking like a bruise will get rid of my black eyes
they've got dark circles from dreaming with them open
(I am awake for some of my best dreams and worst nightmares)
cracking my bones as a hobby
i like it when you're around to crack me, too
crack me open, apart
until my ribs loosen and fall across your carpet
where we'll float in thick salt water
and wait for another wave of covers
because your bed sheets might always be a little tangled
and mixed in my long blonde hair

your sheets add a nice scent to it

sorry for always mentioning you in stupid poems i write
sorry that you read them.
I promised myself you'd never see me cry, but we were drunk and you kept saying things that made me miss you while you were still here
and sometimes all I do is miss things that I haven't lost yet.
I tried to hide my eyes, but I don't think I can lie to you
so whenever the world catches up to me and you're around,
I am sorry that I might get overwhelmed. I am sorry that I've cried.
I can't sleep either and no lights are flickering but I keep telling myself that they are
and I'm not sure why I say "and" so much to connect every thought like a run-on, but sometimes when you smile it carries me through the day and i'd run to see that. But I over-analyze and over-think and will over-run my mind 'til I die and sometimes dying sounds better.
I know you know what I mean, and I'M SORRY
we all fake things so well,
it's human nature to fake every day
and god,
I am sorry I'm so scared that you are faking every time you whisper in my ear
AND I WILL NEVER UNDERSTAND WHY NONE OF US SIMPLY
DO WHAT WE WANT
(we'd be so much happier, I bet)
BUT I DON'T EVEN KNOW WHAT I WANT MOST OF THE TIME
and sometimes when you say sweet words
I know you'll forget you said them
and I'll think of them when you're gone
so sometimes I wish you'd never give me compliments
and
I am sorry
for it all.

i like the needles in my chest
i like it when you wiggle them around
my flesh is so twitchy
itching lately to get you off my mind
but i can't manage. (i like you there)
taking in long slow breaths so my lungs don't bash my heart and ribs
trying hard not to write another love poem

but god, when you say my name...
-
i like it when my arms swim and float around the glares of light
i like it when my arms find their way to a place wrapped with you
-
this is a love poem

make life about spontaneous, soul-screaming youth
before time gives you wrinkles and youth forgets about you

stop thinking about life's pointlessness
remember when you taught me how to skate off a curb
and it took me ages, i was such a ***** about it
but i finally did it
and we leaned against the bricks
and it started to sprinkle, i think
but you still kissed me before we walked out of the rain

i hope i skate with you again, i hope i'm not so afraid this time,
i hope you'll still kiss me in the middle of the day

full stomach, aching chest
i try again to push my fingers through the screen of my phone
(i just want to brush my fingertips against yours while we call)
i am full of desire
for conflict = love vs. lust, joy vs. death
meaning
i'm not quite sure what i want some nights,
but i always want to be next to you

love poems make me nauseous sometimes, looking back at all the past ones i wrote thinking the feeling might last
but naively, perhaps, i'll say that you feel very different  
i'm not afraid either way...
(okay. afraid of losing you, too)

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?'

i know there's not much to it,
we grow we age we die
20 feels like a ton at 3am.
I suppose I'll have coffee in the morning
perhaps put a needle through the eyelid
(stick it to the brow, hopefully i won't raise them much)

Sometimes you're like my soft rain
when I'm trying to bud after winter and nothing is coming and it's hard to break through soil
You are occasionally that first fall of soft rain
Making it easier to grow

Don't tell me where to go.
Don't tell me who I am,
where I should be,
what part of my mind you think you can reach into and pluck strings at to make me work better, to fix all of this


I don't want to hear it.
Just because you scream, it doesn't mean I have to listen,
and just because you've stapled my eyelids open
it doesn't mean I have to look.

There is no him here to save you from me now
to wash my beating heart with blood coursing through our veins
I can hear that
I want to hear that.
But there is no him here to save you from me now
so I can yell until
your body hits the ground
and you will fall forever
and you won't make a sound.

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

do you think being at a cliffs edge would benefit or harm my mental health
I think 6 cigarettes this evening is the proper amount to feel like I'm dying
And also forget that I want to
(more than 1200 calories today)
looking over the edge doesnt make me want to jump, it never did
afraid of the fall
but chasing the excitement
****** that I usually find the biggest thrills in pointless acts of love

I bet it's hard to forget me
when I'm breathing down your neck.

i guess i think it's funny
that he told me he didn't like some pictures of us together
because it always looked like i was pushing him away
and in the end,
that's what i did.

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.

maybe i'll collect all my flaws in pictures
(so i can remember every version of me)
and my favorite part will be remembering what the person holding the camera looked like as they snapped each photo
(this is of course a dream)
sometimes it feels like i want to capture each sweaty embrace
each smile you make
each time that we're rolling around on your carpet
but i know that some things are better left simply in the head
(let's take a lot of snapshots anyway)

hot water
hot thoughts
I'll never
get caught
never ever
want to stop
I'll never
get caught-
Blood, run down my thighs,
Blood, make me feel alive,
Blood, give me some time
to look at you.
I'll never ever
stop
I can't ever
stop
I don't want to
stop
please stop
please...stop

It could be timing or young adult naiveity and the universe may one day tear us apart but for now the universe lets me kiss you under your covers
And the universe doesn't make any ******* accidents

maybe you were only saying those things because it was the middle of the night
and the moon made you delirious
but can i say them back in the middle of the day
when the sun makes me high?

hey i know we're playing by ear,
but if you ever start a band can i be your main roadie,
can i help make your lame t-shirts
can i call people for gigs
even though you'll be nervous to play?
i had a dream things got started
i had a dream i was backstage

You are magic and I am the stuffed bunny ******* pull out of hats, making the audience assume it's alive
I am the girl guys pretend to cut in half, I am the props and the dummies
I am the illusion
But you are magic

UGH JUST THINKING THAT I AM TOO MUCH,
I CAN BE TOO MUCH
I CAN FEEL TOO MUCH
I want to be with you
all the time
and sometimes I feel like I should feel sorry for feeling that way?
feel sorry for feeling
but mainly tonight i am just apologizing to myself
for not going to bed earlier

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

wondering where my veins are
parallel with consonants
wish i knew how to communicate without
darting eyes
and twitchy fingers
every vowel sound you make gets stuck on my eardrum
we echo
and i hear it every time the clock i can't find but keep hearing in my room ticks
i didn't think i had a clock
it's so loud when i'm trying to sleep

i don't have any expectations for things to work out in my favor
i just hope that wherever i go,
life keeps me on my toes.
i hope it's at least exciting

I like how every awkward thing doesn't feel awkward
and I like how you tease me about things that you're only half kidding about.
I like watching you lick your lips and I like wearing your t-shirt
and I like bumping into you as we walk down back roads at 1 am.

i constantly embarrass myself
and even though i don't want to be a fool,
I'm glad you're the one i'm embarrassing myself with

I will probably glorify you until you fizzle and burn out
and then you'll be left looking at your hands
and I'll be wondering why I don't want them on me anymore.
I wonder if my love is like sparklers
whenever I grabbed one and lit it,
I'd be too afraid to hold it until the very end
I'd drop it in the grass instead.
Maybe I don't know how to love without dropping things in the grass
but it doesn't feel like that yet.
I will grab the grass with fists
pour my eyes over with soil if that's what it takes to plant flowers in my vision,
because I deserve to glorify a ******* boy
if i think love is worth catching
before it hits the ground.
Besides, I learned how to light matches
and now I never drop a stupid sparkler

hooks through my flesh, holding me up
so my feet can't touch the ground
and my stomach is ripped wide open,
guts spilling out.
Before you can look me in the eyes to say a pointless apology
my intestines turn to worms
and they crawl into my mouth
-I swallow them whole-
and it is in that moment you realize
how repulsive I have been all along

I should tear my muscles apart each night
stretch them all the way to your house,
so part of me can linger there
and dance around your dreams.

It's a selfish thought.

We are the backwards
sleeping in underwear and crawling through covers
to hide from the only person that has seen every part of us.
They always find us, though,
so we burrow into their shoulders...
hoping their scent will act as medicine.

And it does.

I think I'd write a poem about today
About the back seat of my car
Or the color of your eyes
Or even the fingerprints on the door windows that are only seen if you look close enough...
But I've been having trouble with words, lately
Especially when I'm sneaking glances at your lips

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.

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 know i start things in fragments
or in the middle of a sentence
beginning with "so" or "but" or "and"
i know sometimes i leave things hanging
because some nights i walk out the door still not having
any poems come out of my mouth
and i get in my car and just can't quite figure it out
anything i write anymore is a love poem (oops)
but when i look in your eyes all i can think to say is "i love you," i guess
nothing too poetic
yet the way you say it
is what structures my poems

(it's not that i don't want to speak in stanzas,
but take it as a compliment that sometimes your eyes make me dizzy enough not to think straight)

empty shell of a body
(so full though, so ******* full)
accidentally getting random boys mixed up in all of this
"this" being lust & disgust
lust for attention and affection
disgust for my being conscious of it all.
i have heavy thighs that are making it hard to walk on
i like hearing about moths, i wish i never talked of myself

don't you ever get dizzy
letting the earth spin you in circles
I bet you're tired of the highs and lows of the tide
If only you could pull the moon a little closer,
whisper in its ear, ask it to take it a little easy on you
I'm on the beach, I come and go as I please.
Lately I've been sticking my feet in the water
and I'll try to whisper to the moon for you
but it doesn't listen to me, either.

I dream a lot
and I'm still at a point in my life
where I can walk through fire
and come out already healing.
There is no wrong where I am.
You just do
what you do.
I don't know the exact moment I fell in love with you,
but I'm still at a point in my life
where I believe in love.
It can last here,
and grow,
and even when it fades,
it leaves a trail of sparks.
I'm not sure what path I am paving for myself,
but I still believe I can forget about what I am supposed to do
because it's what you do
and simply do what I need to do
what I want to do
go where I want to go
and I still believe taking chances today
won't leave me dead in the morning.

I am surrounded by love
(which sometimes I mistakenly forget)
and I am full of it
and have plenty to give to others and myself.
Everything else is an over-exaggeration.
Because even if there was seemingly no love around me
I've still got me

so I should always remember
that it is impossible
not to feel loved

because it is always there

i don't write as much anymore.
i'm trying not to romanticize every move you make
because sometimes life just isn't romantic
and looking at the moon would still be as cool without you behind me
(but it felt cooler with you there)
(and even the way you said goodbye this morning felt romantic)

I just want it to be loud
The gasping, my deepest inhale when we start
Song on in the background
(I can't make out what it is anymore because I don't care, my hand is on the front of your hip, slowly gliding to the side to pull you in)
((all I hear is the friction))
And then I just want it to be silent
with eye contact and your hand on my cheek
ear to pillow
Hear nothing, but I see us exhale

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.

i think i could be a cloud tonight
or climbing up the walls
fingers pulling back my eyelids.
can't wait to make love in the back of a car again,
maybe this time on our way to somewhere else

sometimes i am 17, 18, 19, 20 again
begging a boy to love me back
i'm so cynical now in every moment that i happen to forget my age
21
almost 22
i don't beg anymore. i don't wait on anyone.
i love very hard and get loved hard back, it's something out of a daydream
i guess i just thought i'd never have to be 17, 18, 19, 20 again in my head
i thought maybe i wouldn't be empty or sad any night i am 21 and getting loved in return

The story is
I let waves crash over my eye lids
the salt water keeps them open at night.
They sting
sometimes.
Violins ring in my ears
it's a beautiful sound,
but when the trees get high
the music can take over my mind
and make me fall.
This whole 'nonsense' scene,
the curtains half closed because no one knows why,
but no one can fix it and no one on stage is smiling.
I don't get it, either.

thought i might die tonight
am surprised to see myself still normally alive -
through the loopy tracks of a roller coaster panic attack
i thought mostly of you
so i could calm myself down
(also thought of all the food i was stuffing in my mouth
to keep me busy, keep me distracted
probably gained that six pounds back already)
anyway,
you're a good guy to dream about

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 can't think of anything to write,
all i can do is replay the moment you reached your arm over
to pull your fingers through my hair

you know me better than i know myself
you know how to pick me up and put me together

We better do something crazy before I get bored.