We look to the sky
the moon almost as high as we feel
make-up smeared and bodies exhausted.
Smiling, I lean against a brick wall
and we laugh because we've just danced our show
we've just danced through life
we just breathe in the air outside the theater
our theater
our world.

The moon is almost full
I am still on my first cigarette and I've got all night to use my brain
Right now let me just inhale and think with my heart

it doesn't matter
i just want to matter to you

I often daydream of peeling off my own flesh
to let my muscles breathe

or sometimes of slitting my wrists
to let myself be mean to me
to bleed on forever,
until my hair is as long as this day has felt

and occasionally (maybe more than I'll admit)
I daydream of holding a new hand

"MAYBE" IS THE ONLY CONSTANT WORD IN MY VOCABULARY
AND I ******* HATE THE WORD MAYBE
WHY CAN'T I SAY YES
OR NO
OR *******
"DEFINITELY"

maybe one day i'll pick up smoking
but i don't like the idea of getting hooked on something to the point of dependency
which is pretty ******* funny because
i got hooked on you pretty quickly
and i bet trying to quit
will do more damage to me than a ******* cigarette ever could

time is weird because i can't remember what it looked like to look at the first boy i kissed
time is weird because i can't remember feeling his arms
time is weird because it doesn't matter now

i'm sorry i'm not prettier
mechanically rubbing my eyes to say goodbye to the day
(today's thoughts, please leave me alone tomorrow)

slowly swallowing
throwing out the rest
my good days end in quiet protest
mind against heart
heart beating my ribs
I never quite figured out how to blend in

but I can live happily on the outside of the lines
with you

I try to read my own mind sometimes,
but it never really works itself out
so I end up writing it down and leaving it undecipherable.
...But I'd like to walk on coals, I think
placed onto your chiseled chest above your heart
and I will dance for you there
and you can remember me as that weird girl you were in love with once,
and in the future,
you'll smile at my name
because you'll be laughing at me.

THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN LOVE AND IN LOVE:

-love is good and kind and permanent. love is your mother clothes-lining you when she hits the brakes too hard, it is your dog greeting you at the door when you come home
-in love is temporary and powerful and like ******* lightning. in love is a teenage boy with blue eyes that life will force you away from, but **** his bed sure was comfy, and so were his arms and his words.

people **** and die over both

His purple lips greeted mine in a dream, once
His pale hands pull me from the air, so my feet land firmly in the grass next to my grave.
The white dress I wear blows up against my skin,
I can feel
but I am not alive
If I could blush, I would.

i was going to get up and brush my teeth
and wash my face
and shut off the lights
so i could go to bed
but i am stuck in my spot
and i don't want to move
and i don't want to stop listening to this song
and i don't want to go to sleep
because i don't want to stop thinking tonight...

Keep me in your back pocket
just in case you figure yourself out enough
to let someone new in

(maybe I'll take my own advice)

I wish I'd start smoking cigarettes and giving up.
I'd cross my legs, ash tray on table,
and
sometimes
i miss my friends
and sometimes i miss the ones i still have

binge eating at 12am and wanting to die is my new ******* routine
(but I don't want to die
I just want to disappear for a little while
Lay down outside and chain smoke
empty out,
come back to start new)

lick your lips and kiss my neck
run your hand down my bare back
look me in the eyes please please please
and then just hold me as I try to sleep

I think I could start smoking and start dying
and stop caring and keep crying.

**** my skin,
tear
tear
tear it apart
with my anxious nails and teeth
and razor blades
I am my own brain surgeon
constantly picking
trying to figure out what is wrong with me.

I want you to take me into the woods again
mix my flesh with bark
and I can go home
****** with leaves in my hair
because sometimes there is no point in being good.
What is good, anyway?

i thought by now i'd be skinnier
thought i'd approach the new circle of sun a little less stressed
i thought i might have stopped smoking cigarettes

never be empty enough
am i human for my faults or becoming less of one

I deserve to have my heart broken
and I found the perfect boy to do it
(I think he could tear my heart apart)
(I know i'll never be ready for it)

you never told me the truth you never told me that i was toxic to the touch you never said that every time you ran your hand through my hair it tangled your mind up until all you could think was static
the kind of static that hums,
you could call it beautiful,
but only if you're ******* crazy
--
i think i'd like plants on my bedstand because then when i'm sleeping, maybe my mind will travel into the flowers maybe my thoughts will grow into something worth writing down

lately i have nothing but sweet poems to write
and i am sorry to every teen who thinks they are in love
i am sorry we all know it will end
i am sorry time will tear you apart and you will be left in dust, thinking,
times were so good, his lips tasted like a gold mine,
and i am sorry that you will always wish instead of meeting him at 17,
you could have maybe met at 23
and instead of drifting apart because society tells you to
you grow into lives together
(because you can take them with you at 23)
(at 17 you just pack your bags)
I am sorry we are so pessimistic and reasonable
trying to be adults, trying to be mature
when all we want to do is realize that love doesn't have to end
just because it's supposed to
and despite popular belief and majority rules,
not everything has to have a bad ending
or an ending at all

but look at the trees through my kaleidoscope eyes
(because my glasses are off and everything is blurry)
(for the first time blurry looks beautiful)
and the leaves all mix together with the sky
so I am left to wonder if this is even real life
(it can't be, this is so perfect)
and I can feel you looking at me
back and forth with the branches and my smile
(i smile so often with you)
the thunder doesn't even scare me
and I don't worry about the bug bites or the dirt or sticks stuck in my hair
and I don't worry later, either,
when I am in the back of your car
and the lightning is so close to us
(because how perfect would it be
to get struck by lightning with you
when all i feel every time you touch me is
electrifying)

Hands a little shaky
I'll drink water and rest.
I'm not sure I deserve it
But I'm obsessed with shaky hands outlining a jaw bone.
And my hands steady as I stare off in space daydreaming alone in my car, smoking
wondering if you're going to have a moment thinking of sitting next to me somewhere by water today.
I'll float out there next time
Body light in the middle of a lake
Hands still, resting on my stomach
Swim back to shore and hands explore in the dark for my ******* mixed in with a pile of both of our clothes

i wish i never happened,
i wish i was never born

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.

my god the way you slur your words when drunk
"i wish i wasn't drunk," you said, and i know why you said it,
i know why, but i asked, "why?" and you shrugged.
i kept calling you cute (i couldn't help it)
and then you pulled me into the back room, saying "let's dance"

i wrote a poem about concrete and how i step on every crack in the sidewalk like walking a tightrope,
the same way i trace my fingers down your spine
(I want to touch each vertebrae at a time)
at 12:30 I saw shadows in my room,
at 2:04 I thought I should have kissed you longer,
told you "I love you" a thousand more times

at 2:30 I was still thinking about your shoulder blades

Be real and let me tell you that you're who I wake up wanting to see
-
You're who I want to joke with and explore with and listen to music with and have tons of *** with
You're who I think of when I am singing in the shower

when i'm next to you in your bed and i'm not even tired
it's usually no problem getting to sleep
when i'm ******* exhausted on my couch by myself,
i toss and turn for hours

this is *******

skin loose and hanging off each limb
i'll pull it to one side,
(try to give you the better angle)
i think its amazing that i can forget all of that,
naked under bed sheets
this boy grabbing my thighs and i only think for a split second, "i wish they were smaller," and then the thought disappears and i don't feel like i take up too much space as he kisses my stomach.
i want to give myself the credit of confidence but i think it's just comfort
and at least that is something
even if it's seemingly only there in the soft presence of a smile

-go to sleep
-learn to like hanging out with yourself
-try your best to never let anyone you love ever doubt that you love them
-do not expect anything from anyone, do not rely on people. It is healthy and natural to let your guard down and occasionally take a hand, but when no one really offers you their palm, do not be shocked or hurt. You do not need to hold a hand.
-get over the fact that you really just want to hold his hand

just ******* kick me in the shins,
wrench your fist into my rib cage,
don't quit pulling apart my lungs so I can't breathe.
life is a ******* game,
i'm being played

I wish you wrote about me
it's selfish, it always is
-i think i'll always be the one splaying it out
mapping down all of my emotions
matching them with my fingerprints on your bare back
pretending you feel them,
that they sink through my skin, soak into yours
so i can let go a little bit
but i've got a tight ******* grip.
-I wish you wrote about me sometimes
I wish you'd splay it all out,
spread your fingers on my belly
leave your prints
so i could soak something in.
it's selfish, it always is.

i don't like the game where we all pretend we can figure each other out
(we can get pretty close)
but stop predicting my future -
if i wanted my ******* palm reading,
i'd have put my palm against yours and held your hand

my dad sighs and walks up the stairs
and i don't have many secrets,
but writing things down feels like one.
telling you i don't just want to see the grand canyon,
i want to see you there,
that feels like a secret.

i used to use index cards as book marks so i could neatly write down my favorite quotes/lines from the pages and sometimes i wish i took more pictures so i could do that with moments.
sometimes things last, but sometimes things aren't supposed to,
and i think i'd like to have a few pictures of what time won't let me take with me
(i should take more pictures of the people that make me smile, just in case)

whenever i say, "boys ****"
i can't keep a straight face
because I know a boy and I don't think he ***** at all
but sometimes that's sucky-
wish I hated him-
(it'd be easier on my heart, in the end)

anyway, i've never cared about the easier thing

i am ******* rotten
and lethal
and black flows in and out of my heart
and everything i do or say is painfully awkward

please don't walk away

Sometimes I try to believe in God
mainly because you want me to
because you don't want to have to believe that I am going to Hell.

But babe,
I hope you like seeing me burn
and I hope you tell all the angels
that you were once in love with that ******* fire.

1.  All I can see are headlights and all I can think of are your eyes

2. We just pulled to the side of the highway to let a guy *** in the trees

3. Will this night ever end, will I ever see you again, will I die here and let my last kiss be under a stairway in a building we call 'hell'? Will I make it through this trip, what if I don't

4. Hey I am still just as crazy about you even over all these state lines

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.

isnt it strange how many lives we enter
then leave, just to pretend it never happened.
i miss so many people in different ways,
and i miss who i was with them
how different and how much growing i didnt know was coming.
isnt it cool to see the timeline
it scares me, too
i thought letting go would be a release
i thought people lived, learned, then moved on in a way that allowed them to not miss their old lives
because the new ones are better, older, more mature
but what if growing up is just collecting dusty memories
i guess it is all about remembering the good things
i just dont know who i am - only what i've been

Charred man with no eye-lids
Leaning over the end of my bed
(he stares at me when I try to sleep)
(so now I try not to)
because I don't want his fingers up my leg
or his other hand around my neck
and I don't want to become ash
Before I even get to live

I pretend I am in a room full of boys again
sitting quietly in a corner
bottles being thrown above my head
and smashed against the walls
and I've never looked so lonely
but really, I've never been more alive

then someone grabs my hand and pulls me up and my night truly begins once we make eye contact

I feel like I've changed so much in the past two months,
now I'm constantly changing
(it's okay to change)
(right?)
now i let myself have nightmares
and somehow I've lost some friends and gained some new ones
and somehow
I'm letting you in
but not even I know what you're getting into

Pinching at my extra skin
(Scratch it for me, I'll moan)
What are your intentions now?
How do I figure them out?
Do I want to know

//my feet smell
//my head hurts
//i wish i was with you

I found the perfect life partner and to my surprise, I've only written a few sappy cringe love poems about him because I get to live the love poem out loud every day of my life
It's almost been 4 years of loving this man,
and from day one, I've never been more sure about anything:
this is the purest, best love that is so good I thought it was only fake
until I found it.
there is no perfect set of words
just a crawling smile on my face every time I think of his name.
to love so nicely, and to be loved so incredibly in return is life's greatest wonder
how did I find this love that comes with no complications?
"how?" every day, but it's a question you shake off because you don't need to ponder it for too long, before you know it you're just 3 hours into a new conversation, legs touching while sitting on the couch, a glance over while you work next to each other separately, head thrown back in laughter as you share a bath in the tub, running errands together happily getting ketchup for your fridge, holding hands as you wait in line at the doctor, playing with his hair as he rests and he smiles in his sleep, just constantly in wonder, in awe, in love

can't wait to sleep in your ***** pajama bottoms again
and wear the sweatshirt you left at my house even though the zipper is broken
i am constantly trying to surround myself with things that remind me of you
and i'm not sure what this means
but i don't want to think about the future anymore