Leave me in my own abyss.
I've been thrown plenty of ropes, trust me.
But it's hard not to use them
to create my own noose, you know?
Leave me be, then.
Whatever.
Not like anything will change.

Meet my words with your own, make me feel something again.
Is it blunt of me to wish
you'd write me a
palace?

Once more, just once.

Write to me, and help me feel.

******* right, you should be scared of me
Who is in control?*

Agh, I can just feel my mind smirking at me right now.

Who gets to decide when I can breathe, when I can cry, when I can laugh, when I can live?

Who?

I may be in control of my fingertips, but my mind? It controls everything else.

Slowly, she scraped and saved and sighed
over all she had left
and she realized the little love she had left
wouldn't be enough
she could never, would never afford
the cost of her heart

This raincloud
makes for an awful hat

I want the blood I shed to mean something.
Is it bad that I wonder what people would say, how they'd react if I was gone?
I'm not being dark. I'm musing.

I don't want to be a thorn in anyone's side, I don't wish for attention that sometimes I forget I need.
I'll be sitting, music blasting out the demons, and realize I've forgotten to eat. To sleep. To breathe.

It's to the point where it's almost not sad anymore, you know? Like I've forgotten how it was before this cloud became something that'd stay with me forever. And it's at coasting, numb points like this where I honestly don't even know if I want to feel better. What is better, anyways?

And they always tell me I have so much to live for. And I do, that's the only reason I don't go. It's not the fact that I'd miss so much about my life and everything that I have before me to accomplish.

I don't want to hurt anyone by leaving, even though my hurting would be over. This is the one area where I wish my incessant selfishness would take over.

So, pardon my venting, pardon my sad songs, pardon my black and white photos. There isn't much silence, happy music, or color in my life right now. And I'm okay with it, as much as the pain stabs, it's more of a dull pain.

Maybe one day I'll understand how it is to feel again. Maybe. No one would have even known  if I hadn't had an outburst, let my selfishness take over in a thundercloud of confusion. It won't happen again, I can't let it. I can bottle feelings. Letting go is harder. They didn't know, it needs to be that way. They need to be protected~<3

*And she cried,
"Kiss it all better, I'm not ready to go
It's not your fault, love
You didn't know, you didn't know"

I'd like to feel something, please.
May I have a plate of happiness to start, extra sentiment on the side?
And after that, perhaps a steaming mug of anger, completed with some frothing frustration to top it off.
And for dessert, well, I suppose I don't really get to choose; a cold bowl of depression will end the meal..and back to numb, I'll be.
Until it starts all over again.

Doe eyed
confused at common sense
emotional
has a soundtrack to every part of her life

She belongs in an anime

A figure who spends all his time
twisting to fit in
to society

Hold on to these swiftly wisping hands, the fading fingertips
Don't let them go.

Keep a grip on these crying eyes, this swimming mind
Don't let them sink.

I don't want to learn.
I don't want to get over making mistakes
because without making them
I never would have experienced
what it was like
to feel like
that

I'm picky. I like who I like, and that region does NOT include everyone, far from it.

Maybe my selectiveness is my downfall, it leaves me alone more often  than not.

But do you deny me my wish
to be wanted
to be loved
to belong

I had never fallen that hard
And no, I've never classified my feelings as love
and the same applies there
but I can't help but wonder
what I did wrong

It keeps me up until the words aren't words anymore
but rather spikes behind my eyes
waiting to impale me
as soon as I know she's moved on.

I know it won't be hard for her, and that's not a jab at her amazing self.

I'm just too willing. And easy to forget.

Why are Sleep and I no longer friends?

We used to spend so much time together, used to be so close, wasting hours in idle chatter about meaningless and skewed ideas and figments of our imaginations.

But now, when I come knocking at her door, there is no response. It's like she's ****** at me, for reasons I can't understand. But it's not unlike her to leave me alone to the tortures of my Mind when I need her most.

While I lay and wait to hear from Sleep, Mind weasels his way into my conciousness, sitting down and pretending to feel sorry for the thoughts he has created within me.

And that's where it all starts.

Example; last night.

Remember? Hannah, do you remember?

Do you remember when you had it all within your grasp and you said NO to spare someone else's feelings...but didn't spare your own?

Do you recall the two hours of waiting between words that would make the suicidal feelings within me rise from a puddle to a tsunami?

Do you recollect the pulse that assaulted your eardrums as you tried to block me out, but couldn't?

Do you?

He taunts me thus until an ungodly hour until he finally allows Sleep to enter, and I am too tired to socialize with her.*

Someone, please tell me why.

Why does my mind hate me, why do I shake more than smile, why do I cry more than laugh...

And why can't I ever get it right? Why do I always hurt everyone I know? Why can't I make myself as happy as I wish I could by making others?

And God, why can't I have just one little sliver of happiness? For just an hour? A minute? A nanosecond?

How little do I deserve?

How is it that my intuition, usually so on my side, can be wrong?

Perhaps it's not.

It tells me that you hate me. That you want nothing to do with me after how I reacted. That you wanted to say it much earlier but just wanted to spare yourself my reaction. That I'm way too sensitive.

I wish these things were wrong but I've no intention to assume so, not after thinking things over until 4 am when my brain and my heart are crying out for rest.

My intuition tells me to believe that it's not your fault. That it's happened the same way so many times before- I'm told no, then a rebounding yes, then an overwhelming no that leaves me in a shell-like trance gasping for air and grappling for hold of my emotions. It wasn't you, it was Fate. I'm not allowed to be happy, how is that your fault?

I wish this was not how life had chosen to treat me, but how can I change the patterns it has set for me? I can't expect that things are going to miraculously become one hundred ten degrees better because of a ****** set of words I post on a site where no one reads. Even if I were posting on billboards, it'd make my situation that much more laughable.

Maybe it's my mental state. Maybe it's the insane amount of time I have to spare in which I let my feelings elevate too much, scaring off any possible chance there ever was of perhaps feeling whole for the first time in I can't even remember how long.

Maybe it's my intuition.

Maybe it's Fate.

I've never been in love*
But I had thought that I could learn

This emptiness makes me want to write
a song, a poem
i could care less

I want to write something that will make someone feel something

what if i were to write

goodbye

We were better off together.

The late night conversations, the happiness, the snuggling into the covers ad sighing at sweet messages from a dimly lit screen

We were better off paired, like jeans--who wants only one leg?

The intake of breath when our eyes met, the constant need to be touching in some way, the flurry of butterflies we gave to each other

We were better off squared, where we could always protect each other

And now I'm left to wonder--do you feel as raw as I do?

Rawer and more exposed than I've ever felt, yet little to do to remedy it....I want that second layer wrapped around me.

But when I reach for it....it's never there.

The reflection in my glassy irises
wasn't what I wanted
I envisioned us going places.
We didn't. It's alright.

I just wish I knew
what you think of me
now that everything is through....
and I'm long long gone.

I'll repeat and repeat and repeat
it wasn't your fault, the blame's on my mind
and though everything you said was sweet
My brain decided it meant more.

So please forgive my starry eyes
they know not what they do
the hurt they earned was no surprise
because of the hurt they caused you

It'll be hard for them to realize. I flatter myself in thinking that but I believe it is true.

Now they're free from the drama. Perhaps that breaking point was what I needed to realize that I'm doing them more hurt than harm.

They never asked to get involved with me, to let me drag them down, to make them think they did something wrong.

The only thing they ever did wrong was to let me in.

And I loved every sainted moment.

I just wish I had been strong enough to contribute to them like they contributed to me.

They're going to blame themselves. Loving them from afar, watching them grow, learn, and love from a distance will be one of the hardest things I've ever done.

But I wouldn't have hurt them like this if I didn't know
that they'd benefit massively.

.....goodbye.

There is a sort of twisted art
                                            *to letting go

At precisely 10:10 AM, August 15, 2016, there will be a wall erected around my heart and mind. This will be here to stay until I"m able to get a ******* hold on myself and get these dark thoughts out of my head that just happened to choose today to try and wreck previous construction.

We are sorry for the inconvenience.

She was always cautious. Momma had always told her not to stray too far towards the edge, that the gold lining of the clouds would tempt her up and over what was well and good. And if she didn't look carefully enough, she'd fall instead of fly.

She was always waiting. Sometimes, she was lured near the edge by a cloud or two, but was able to catch herself before lunging off the amethyst cliff into the dark nothing in which she could either sink or soar.

She was always lonely. So many figures danced just along the edge, just out of her grasp, their blurred outlines shining brighten than molten sunshine, calling to her. pulling at her humble clothing.

She was never desperate. Although even the slightest murmur of her name was enough to get her up and running towards the edge, she always awoke from the nightmare...and would always regret not taking the risk.

Until she did.

She was always shy. But when the wisp of hope outlined by the shadows of the moon itself reached out its twilight fingertips to her and beckoned, promising a life beyond the farthest jump she could possibly muster, she heard. And she believed.

She was always meek. Not believing in herself but in the hands that held hers, she ventured to the edge, peering over into the lilac abyss and the stars above. And she jumped.

She was always forgettable. No sooner had her toes left the glossy surface of the biggest cliff she had ever faced in her life, her memory was wiped from the minds of those who knew her, to be replaced by something brighter, shinier, newer.

And then she was gone. But no one would miss her.

I just want to let go of everything, feelings, emotions.

"You've never had it together."

It was only a joke, but wasn't it true?

I'm so ridiculously easy, and I don't even realize it. Why not spare myself the hurt? Why not push for a life alone?

I'm better alone.

No one to hurt and no one to make feel guilty and no one to constantly ask me if I need anything and no one to love me.

It's better that way.

Excuse me while I go choke on my words and my thoughts in a bathroom stall and shake until I can't feel my fingers.

It's better this way.

Excuse my while I lean against the cold stall wall and wonder why I'm even here, why my heart and my head hurt me so much.

It's better this way.

Excuse me while I try and drown the emotions that have been drowning me since day one.

It's better this way.

For everyone. But for me?

No, it was never a question.

Pinning my tongue to my cheek
with needles of ice and strife,
I grow weaker every week
Thinking of my dead life.

Happiness is all I vie for
with the strength of thousands of men
................

my mind is too boggled with emotions to rhyme,
and as it turns out, it's a waste of time

she's not going to read me, or want me, or find
that I'd give up everything for the sake of her mind

what she never will quite understand
is that I'll never leave her, let go of her hand

even as a friend if I'm doomed to stay,
I'll be happy for the sake of today

cause it means she'll be happy, and that's quite a lot...
and mine's nothing in compare. With hers? It's not.

She told me no against my lips
I accepted

She told me maybe through a screen
I shivered

She told me yes through confusion
I waited

She told me goodbye
*I broke

A book full of questions
That have been placated, for the moment

If only I could sing
to make up for the words I just can't say

...and since you aren't here to receive this prize, I'll simply stow it away for later.

How many more weeks do you want me to repeat this? My heart is getting tired of staying in my chest, since that's not where it belongs.

Quoth the starling, "Forevermore."

she was starstruck
until the black hole consumed her

She reads and never understands.

Where does she think, exactly, that I'm getting all this inspiration?

I leave myself alone with my mind too much, I think.

She doesn't realize what happens when her eyes make contact with the small black dot that is her front facing camera on her iPhone.
She doesn't.

It's like a chemical reaction, the shivers that fizz through my being and emanate into a smile across my lips as it's suddenly gone, only a simmering memory that I have to grapple with to keep it from receding into the file cabinets inside my dusty, cobwebbed brain.

She doesn't realize what the combination of warm eyes, warm hair, and warm heart can do through a slanted lens of glass.
She doesn't.

how was it
that the same lips that ensnared his affection
could ensnare the silence
of death?

I basically feel single.

Perpetually.

Who knew.

You
obviously
                    love
                                   O                                 A     c   Y
                                         b     s t   I       N

You can read my thoughts
blankly

and pretend to understand and sympathize
with what I write

But if you could summarize me
what words would you spin?

Who am I
to you?

There are so many people I want to help.

But first, I have to focus on myself.

How can I help her if I can't help myself?

Hypocrisy.

Maybe if you throw broken glass at me
I'll finally understand what it feels like
to be shattered. Right?

I want to feel the tiny stabbing pains inlay
themselves in my face like diamonds until
I can't feel my lashes.

And why, you ask, do I want to learn this
pain more than I want to live myself, and yet
you forget I am more.

I am more that you'll ever be because I wish
unlike one I've ever known to feel the pain
that comes with life.

Because I know
we are lost
without it.

He changes his name
again and again

to love the rain and the life
he left behind

He changes his name
over and over

to stop the hurt and the feeling
he feels every day

But most importantly, he changes his name
constantly

to block the love and hide from the glare
the world gives off

I want to be with her
her hair falls in her eyes
her lips are so inviting
her heart is warmer than life

But I have to be with him
his eyes are warm and friendly
his hands are soft and comforting
his heart has the purest intentions

I don't deny the platonic intensity
but do you deny me my lust
which can't be satisfied
within he whom I
never thought
would be more
than a
friend?

Wait
to
                                        y

                        l
f

her mind was a rose bed
and he was a new bottle of roundup

Has someone out there ever felt the need
to be part of something
bigger?

I'm not talking sports
music
school
or family

I'm talking character

Am I the only hollow being in this empty galaxy

who longs for an emotion to call their own?

Is it bad that I dance constantly
with dishes in my hands
and dubstep in my heart

but the only kind of dancing I want to do
is against your experienced hips?

Pardon my enthusiasm.

But I want to be rocked until the chair is broken
until the horses have run away
until our bodies are torn to pieces

with nothing left
but the beat

I love you. So much it hurts.

But what hurts more
is the screaming
and the yelling
and the insults

I know you love me
so much it hurts

watching me progress from
mary janes to high heels
from face paint to mascara

but one day I'll be gone
and our emotions
need to stop playing
tag

If I write about how much heartache and depression I'm facing
I'll never get noticed
anywhere

simply because in order to catch someone's eye
you have to write about what's
real

and apparently, all the hurt I experience on a daily basis
is simply a figment of my
imagination

Maybe you weren't skinny enough.
Maybe you talked too much.
Maybe you wore too much perfume.

Maybe you were never home on time, were a lousy cook, never made the bed, and liked ***** a little too much.

Maybe you weren't eloquent or quick enough, maybe you didn't have the willpower to stand up for yourself.

Or-did you ever consider-?

Maybe you were too perfect.