she locks herself in her room,
closing all the curtains and
whispering to herself,

"why did you have to leave?"

she walks toward her desk
and opens the bottom drawer
and it reveals a
                           razor

she carefully lifts it
and whispers into
darkness


                       *"only for you, my love"

am i that easy to forget?

listen to your body

talk to plants

       ignore people

if you can't see the other side
of my body, will you doubt its
existence?

"take your time but please tell me the secret on how to be better. I am the night sky and a dimly lit room all in the same sentence and I don’t really know where to put the period. some days I am better and I’m here with this abundance of love in my heart and the other days I am all alone and no way to cope with the sadness. give me the grass stained jeans and give me the love I used to feel but not while in the arms of others. I’m not alone but sometimes I am. let me learn how to cope with the bad days and let me learn how to find comfort in my own arms and my own bed and then I swear I can give them the best parts of me after that. let me learn how to feel innocent and lovely again. let me learn how to heal again. let me learn."

you’re losing your words
we’re speaking in bodies

bitten nails
wet ink
clicked pen
cigar smoke
closed eyes
withered flowers
we all die in the end

It's amazing how two people can be so perfect for each other, but they're both too scared to get hurt that they don't do anything about it..

you said you liked storms,
so i let you in.

turns out you can only handle
a little rain,


                                                                                                and i am a
                                                                                                             hurricane

there's no such thing as 'love'

people are afraid of me because I'm different

we watched the sunset  
over the castle on the hill

​
ITS OK TO LEAVE HIM IF HE HURTS YOU
ITS OK TO LEAVE HIM IF HE HURTS YOU
ITS OK TO LEAVE HIM IF HE HURTS YOU
*IT IS OK TO LEAVE HIM IF YOU LOVE HIM

im curious.  im just curious to what it feels like.  im curious to what pain feels like.  im curious to what love feels like.  love is not always happy, sappy, romance.  but its also not always sad, depressing romance either.  its a mixture of both.  and i wonder and am curious to what it feels like to stumble upon love and wander through it like an adventure that is waiting to be discovered.  love that has not yet been identified.  love that hasnt been touched.  i am curious about love, despite the pain or stress that might catch or grasp me along the way.  i am curious about how to love someone.  how to share the connection as one might call it.  how to be loved.

nobody ever fins
the one.

the city dumps fill
the junkyards fill
the madhouses fill
the hospitals fill
the graveyards fill

nothing else
fills.

nothing can ever replace you

home isn't where you are it's who you're with and did

you are the blue

in the grey ocean

"i believe that
your soul

and my soul

are
very

old friends."

it hurts
    to know
that you 




                 will never 
                       look at me
                 the way
                     i look at 
                               you

you said i
was a
beautiful
red rose

but you
pricked me
with your
sharp thorns

and left me
here, without
help, or friend

you left me
bleeding,

you left me
here to                                                                                                      *die

she is never there
ghost lover extraordinaire
kiss nothing but air

you know what,
at one point
he probably did
love you back
but he was just
a boy
lacking courage,
inferior to pride,
silent of words,
and
stagnant with change,
both too afraid
to embark on opportunity,
to embrace life.
so life flew by
and together you died
while alone
you lived.

a hundred days,
a hundred ways
to die.

a hundred days,
a hundred ways
to say goodbye.

a hundred days,
a hundred kisses,

a hundred
loving sighs.

a hundred days,
a hundred poems
about you;

about you,
and i.

eat me slowly with your kisses

"the night has a thousand eyes"

"the problem with someone setting your soul on fire is that you are usually left with ashes"

do you remember
the night we drove
out into the inked darkness
until the hum of the city
evaporated into contrails streaked above us
like some ******* canvas
that night i looked up at the sky
and its infinite display and i said,
"doesn't it make you feel better to
know that you're made of stardust?"
and you laughed quietly and replied
"you'd rather be up there, wouldn't you?"
and i think that's when you knew
i would be always tripping over things
because the ground didn't interest me
in the slightest.

it's hard to admit that
maybe we were on
different paths, and
maybe they were
never supposed to
cross.

​
how can you say you know me
when you’ve only seen my skin
and not the untamed world i hide
thats growing deep within
you haven’t heard my ribs all creak
behind each plaited vine
or swum beneath the waterfall
that cascades down my spine
you’ve not been here for long enough
to watch a new life start
or find the run-down cattle
lying just inside my heart
you haven’t climbed the branches
that are wrapped around each lung
swaying with the breezes
that come dancing past my tongue
don’t mark me with your footprints
if you plan to leave soon
and only want to know me
when my plants are in bloom
because the birdsong might be pretty
but its not for you they sing
and if you don’t think my winter is too cold
you don’t deserve my spring

stop asking if

i'm okay

i'm tired of lying

i feel like I'm falling through the air, like I'm weightless, falling down, down
falling through a bottomless pit.  no one is there to catch me'
or stop me from falling. i just keep going down, down, down.
come to think of it, i had a dream like that yesterday.
my dreams are weird. i don't feel scared or anything
i feel free when i dream like I'm in another dimension, another world.  where i can be myself, and not follow rules.
i don't have to worry about people judging me.

“sea gulls! so far from the sea”

“ah, but how far are you from yourself?”

my mother used to say,
“if it hurts, it’s working.”
whenever i got a cut,
she would dab peroxide
on the cut, healing me.

i knew he loved me deep inside,
he never told me but i know it
every time he hits me, it hurts.
but my mother was never wrong.
if it hurts, it must be working.
right? -

YOU USED TO BE THE ONLY THING
THAT MADE ME HAPPY
BUT NOW I CANT EVEN
LOOK AT YOU