sick again,
heart beating too fast and stomach clenching too tight.
it's staring at me
the last little line, little reminder, little pain,
intersecting my veins with it's pale puckered lips.
619 days since it appeared,
since i dug the little trench in my too-white skin, soft skin.
i have hated every day that it has stayed there, staring up at me, taunting me to give it more friends.
and i know that i'm sick, again, always,
but i have some self control, some semblance of sanity that hasn't left me like everyone else did.
and it's okay, my rotting, lips blue like my veins through my skin, the rivers that lead me home.
it's staring with expectant eyes, daring
me to be weak and to be strong.
it's the devil and the angel all in one,
so i pull on a sweater and i pretend it's not too hot next to the fire in the winter, under the sun in the summer, and i drown the eyes of my scar(s) and fill the rivers with another drink.
sick again,

A stop sign is still red
EVEN IN THE DARK!**


[10W]
SoulSurvivor
(C) 12/7/2015

It's not that I wish to die,
More or less,
But if I were to go on a walk,
And find myself,
At the edge of a cliff,
I wouldn't stray the course.
And it's not that I'm depressed,
More or less,
But I've been using alcohol,
To make the silence,
Less deafening to be in.

I warned you, son.
"Don't break her heart."
Now you think about that while I rip you apart.

I don't know what it is you seek,
but my sister is out of your league.
Failed to see how lucky you were.
Did not heed my warning when you texted her

What kind of ***** breaks up via texting?
The same little ***** that thinks bussing is flexing.
She'll move onto better, just for a toy.
She won't wait long for a mere busboy.

I could go on forever about things that you lack.
Like, interest, money, a life, a six-pack.
You'll never be good enough for my little sister,
but I hope she's moved on when you realize you've missed her.

don't look me in the eyes
it's pretty scary in there,
it's where i keep everything
that's not considered
''acceptable''
all the hate
and all the love
and everything
i'm too scared to say
out loud
so beware
you might find things
that you
don't wanna see

I'M TIRED OF TEARING MYSELF DOWN
BUT I CAN'T GET THE KNIFE OUT OF MY BACK
OR MOVE THE GUN FROM MY TEMPLES
OR THE BAD THOUGHTS OUT OF MY HEAD
AND I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO DO

you said you prefer red over blue
so i cut open my veins and showed them to you
you said you preferred the night sky over the burning sun
so i painted myself dark and prayed that it would be enough
you said that you only liked girls who picked at the earth
so i tore the petals off flowers and the leaves off of trees
you said you liked girls who spoke harsh words
so i spoke only words that would cut like glass
then, out of no where, you said you preferred blue over red
and i found myself dead

I find myself locked
Between my flaws
In that I love too much
Yet I love too few

There's not much I can do
Than just be apologetic
But living an apologetic life
Leads to apologetic stories

So I wish to not say sorry
For I cannot change this
My flaws are my flaws
And they are what make me

This is not an apology
Just a warning
For my love is large and strong
And I cannot stop for anyone

Men, feminine? No.
We will never be your equal.
We, men, are higher.

There's a reason for
the ****. Abuse. Violence.
It is always your fault.

Don't go out at night.
Don't wear provocative skirts.
Don't drink – it's not cute.

How's your low-paid job?
Hearing you shout, ****, *******;
Don't be a ****, *****.

You will fall into.
me, at the club, drunk and dumb
You speak yes, but no.

This isn't my fault.
You consented to my hands,
on slim thighs, smooth *******.

You're in the gutter;
those drugs intoxicate you,
short skirt, slurring words.