And II remember the first lie you said to meBut I think we can’t call it a lieBecause I didn’t believe you anywaysAnd II remember the first truth you said to meYeah, I remember hoping it was a lie.
You must love yourselfAnd you knowI finally amI’m finally able to wake up and look in the mirror and touch my face in it and say “hello beautiful”And smile.
ExcusesIn which I realize that 96% of the people I encounter and make bonds with will eventually become bored of me.And that when they do they will leave with entirely-too-human-excuses falling off their tongues.And that I realize I’d much rather you say nothing at all when you decide to leave.Excuses are just that, excuses, a reason to leave- you became bored, I became boring, I became a bitch, a hollow shell, I don’t talk much anymore, excuses… excuses… just get your shit and leave if that’s what you want.But I’d much rather you not waste our time by telling me why, when all it is are entirely-too-human-excuses.
3:43 amI remember the time you tried to leave&& I fought your escape like my life depended on it(Possibly because at the time I thought it did)
on how to be okayI don’t actually knowMaybe I should poemize a “on how not to hate yourself when your supports come crashing down”But I don’t know how to do that eitherIt feels like it’s my faultBeing too clingyLoving too muchNot spreading my wings as much as I could haveThe tears keep falling and I can’t see straight anymoreHow could I have been so hopeful?It’s not the end of the world I know- but it hurts so fucking muchTrusting someone so fucking much, believing in them, me, usHearing those three stupid words but in a way I didn’t want to hear them ever againI shouldn’t have been so foolish to depend on someone- that’s what it feels like.
Spellbound“never let me go”That’s what you screamed as IHeld you until youScreamed yourself into anEverlasting sleep&Even though you’re goneI never sleep&Even though you’re goneI’ve never felt the desire to leave.
She could have lived til 90Words spill so quickly from her lipsWrapping around her pale throat like an intricate necklaceAnd as she rapidly-elegantly spits them- they squeeze her neckAt least no blood is being wasted as the words burn into her skin… And she can’t breathe for a while nowWhile the magic is finishing up- taking some of her life as payment.
Connectionyour voice is in my headand that is the way i want it to stay.
MoreWith a broken heart- you’ll starveAll the love you’ll receive will drip outAnd constantly you’ll be ‘needing’ more.
honey, please don't pull that triggerI'm always taking bullets for you.
to revere new lifeobeisant boughsmurmur blossoms into spring.
Dandelion DaughterShe is my dandelion girl,a graceful, yellow weedwith puffs for hair.She tells me she isn'ttrying to be beautiful.Only existing.Her moonstone fingersare braiding hopes and loveinto the strands of herhair as she idly chattersof how the sun seems toshine a little yellowerwith you there.She becomes somethingexceptional, a gardenfilled with starlight andteacups. She will remind youthe sun is also a star andthat we often overlookthose closest to us.
you turned harsh with the change of seasonSalt stings icy cheeksas bitter sea-mist blowsthe lighthouse beckons.
the truth about growing up1. It's easier when you don't think.1. It starts early,on a cloudy day when you recallthe 'childhood memories' oftwo summers ago,that's when you start your backslide intogrowing up.2. On the bright sideyou won't notice this until you'regood and ripe in age,so maybe it doesn't matteranyway.3. That tightness in your chest?The feeling that you're not readyto take on the rest of your life; itnever leaves.4. It stews in the pit of your stomachmakes you doubt, but there will be days when you look backon the mountains you climbed -the raging rivers you crossed -and you'll have a sneaking suspicion you weremore prepared than you thought.5. There's nothing like your own bed.6. Laundry will never smell rightwithout mom's sweat and tears.But you still have to separate lights from darks,keep the zippers pulled tightand the buttons unhooked.7. There is comfort in your parents' presence.8. Things changethe future gnaws and rips
.he always wants the light onwhen he's sleeping, says he's scaredbut i can't see the point;i say not all monstersare trying to hurt you, at leastnot right awayand his bottom lip goesand he screams shut upbut i laugh and i tickle his ribsand then he laughs with meand he sayslove youand i say i love you toolittle man(i love you too)
mother did not hang the moonthe shallow cratersbeneath her cheekbones yawn.capture; reflect.creamy round features glow,basking in the light of her son.
to be heard (speak)i would write youinto sentienceif these sentencesweren't so wasteful. words, dismantle worry, overwhelmcall it a stanzabut this is ab-b-b-breakdown;deterioration riotingwild and tearingat my language. stomach, curdle scribe, pausei would hold youif only i couldstop these handsfrom scribbling.i would open myselflay bare rampant wishful thinking,scrawl suns and stars that do nothingexcept shine bright and uselessscreaming your namein technicolour until maybejust maybei caught your attention;i would open myselfif only i weren'tso deathly afraid. mind, climb limbs, followheart, steady your beating;handle adjective gently,for some things are notmade for embellishment.bravery is a promiseand i,the anathemaof fidelity.you soar, you swim,you shine;and i tire of assemblingwings that break andships t
.keep your eyes forward;you weren't meant to watch what you'rewalking away from
one night standInspiration kicked me outof bed, threw myclothes-said, I'll call you-and moved onto the next.
AloneWhen I am alonein the darkness of my room,Sleep is approaching,but my mind's a labyrinth tooI navigate the pathwaystrying to understand:How in a room so empty,lonely I never am
give me a reason to stayI need more from youthan two lips parted;hungry hands scrabblingat my sides.I need your limbstwined around myhopes and dreams -I need your fingersclutching for my soul.
wordless they succumbAnd they fell -just like that.Just like the act of breathing;soundless and inevitable.Like an eager girl slippingstraps from her shoulders,they becamethe soft crush of silk at her feet.
Named after youAt times I liketo sit in a world of my ownand observesomehow selfishly,hours go byuntouched. I drive my mind crazy,late at night readingbetween the linesof a careless note,late at night waitingfor the inevitablewrong answer. At times I liketo get lost in illusions of closeness,when everything outsideis unbearably cold. And I wake up tired,always on the verge of unfinished thoughts,almost balancing the uncertaintyon the bridge of my nose. At times I liketo whisper out loud my thanksfor the light and the dark,let the sound fadeas all the scars on my soulnamed after you.
.Were I not me, and you not youI might just say I love you, too.
.she never carried enough oilto keep her own life burning
LoveWe say we love flowersAnd their sweet aromaYet we can spend hoursJust picking them upWe ask for their thoughtsAs we pick at their petalsAbout if he loves meOr he loves me notAnd yet we still wonderWhy nobody trustsWhen "I love you" is mutteredBut have we forgot? We kill what we love.
Young LoveI was so youngwhen I first heardthe beats of my heartpulse lightly upon my ribcage;my toothpick bonesquite fragilein comparisonto the powerful palpitationsAnd I was still youngwhen I heard againthe throbs of my heartpound forcefully upon my ribcage;my metal bar bonesquite strongin relationto the butterfly-wing beatsSo you better hurry, boyas my ribs are becomingthick as steel,and you’ll soon need a metal cutterto reach my heart(And I don’t want to get damaged in the process of being loved).
if i had common sense-If I had knownHow empty you would make meI wouldn’t have let you in.