Does that make me Different?I wear make up. Does that make me fake?I cry. Does that make me emo?I have male friends. Does that make me slutty?I smile a lot. Does that make me weird?I laugh loud. Does that make me preppy?I have anxiety. Does that make me a freak?I have Bipolar Disorder. Does that make me abnormal?I respect people. I change for me, and only me. I have a past, but I know I have a future.Does that make me different?Maybe.But at least it makes meMe.
RelapseIt’s like countingSaturn’s rings,hash marksalong your limbs -remembering a timewhen‘just one more’made you feel better.- & you’re sitting therewondering whyDraco, stuck in limboalways looks like he’sfalling.
FrostbiteNumbnessI can’t feel my toes and at first I thinkIt’s just my toes.I can cover them up.I can warm them. It spreads, like fire,Like ice.I glance away for a second, it seems, and my feet are coldPat –patThat’s funny, I didn’t feel thatMaybe I’ll cover them up tooI’ll warm them up. I’ll take a napMaybe a short rest will make it all better, warm themUp…What’s that? How long has it been?My legs… are you still mine..Why has my breath left me, short?Has everything but deserted me? What about you, are you still here?Are you still with me?Hello?And before I can say goodbye, I think my thoughts are leaving me too –
Sleeping Beautyshe’s in love with a character whonever existed but in the labyrinth of her head:a patchwork composition of beautiful, lengthy wordsshe’d heard in her catatonic state; coma livingday in and day out, reliant on the salvationof a man made of foreign wishingand imperfection and necessity – an ignorance of the less than ideal perception of self she’d come to fear, absention stained romantic to the pointwhere daydreams were a standard for survival(real living is for the purposeful of heart,he loves her in her sleep)
UneditedWe cry.We scream.We fight for our dream.We scream.We cry.We're just waiting to die.The same emotionswith a different drive.Sometimes dead, sometimes alive.The same in one way,different in anotherbrother and sister, sister and brother.So close in feeling,so different in the end.Falling apart, or finally on the mend?Which am I?Will I ever know?Fighting to stay or ready to go?Maybe I'm both,in some impossible way.Emotions oddly mixed everyday.Wouldn't surprise.I'm such a freak.Excuse me, I laugh, I should call it "unique"
Happily AloneHonesty,She does not have,Personalities,She has many of them.A million shields,a million personalities,She's always changing, to fit every person around her.If one were to ask why,she would answer with,I will never reveal my weaknesses, because she's evil.She hates everyone,stupider than her is barely tolerable, smarter than her is too scary, She hates it all.She leaves the world behind,To one she has dreamt of,No color, nobody else.Then, she will smile,why,because she is truly happy alone.She is not evil,She does not hate you, She is not dishonest,She simply wants to be alone.
WorthlessWorthless,the name that cuts like a knife,Me,it's all that you see inside,My heart,is breaking with every breath I takeThe lies,the only thing I can't seem to face.
We are the King and Queen of Broken DreamsStanding still in a mine field, staring at all we have left.We were so young, we didn’t stop to think.Now we’re in a car crash, teetering on the brink.If you were to leave me now, I don’t know what I’d do. It was a whirl wind romance,A light when all was black, a spark of something when all was bleak.You swept me off my feet and made me feel brand new.I thought we could live forever and I’m certain you did to. We built a house without foundationsAnd now we’re falling down,Everything’s crumbling around us, time slipping through out fingertips.People used to walk past us but they were to drunk to see,That our lives are coming apart around us, there is no light as far as we can see. There was no fire to start with,Just two broken things, the world had left behind.The casualties of other people’s dreams of power, money and control,Spat out onto the curb to rot away and die.We never stood a chance or so
wallflower clippingsthere's scar tissue in her throat,swollen around the words she never said;dark rings around her eyeslike planets unremembered, anda staleness to her touch,the crystalline Dead Sea.she's living like a storythat's already been told"if no one loved youwould you mean anything at all?"in that moment, we forget to exist.
lifelinesI fear the sound of sparrowsand the density of leavesagainst dew-muffled blades of grass,and I'm drowningin the sky.My skin has learned howto peel itself off without causing a commotion in my marrows or even show the slightest hintof pain,and my heart has learned howto hush the stars in their wakeand keep it all a secret.There's a sea in my mouthand I can't swim. There are lifelines cast like these and it will all end with the same tragedy.
Falling off the EdgeDo you know what it feels like?To nearly fall off the edge,but not quite...just so that you're dangling;clinging for your worthless lifelest it fall into the sea of loneliness. Your callused, pink fingers turningto a shade of purplish-red of painas it does it best to hold on.Splash.In the sea of loneliness,everything is crisp, translucent. There is nothing around you,you are alone...unlike other people,you have no one clamouring to save you;you have no onediving in to get you out.There is no pointscreaming for help,you will only wastethe little time and air you have left. You only have the darknessof the sea envelop
of seafoam thronesFrom Atlas’ hands she wept to me,atop Africas and South Atlantics;this is one situation unaffected byember eyes and windy lashes(it has no anatomy).You are sparrows strandedin tiny crevices and cliffside love,though you rebuke flightin the fear of chipping feathers. So what do you do?You reach for my soul,coveting flight with shakingdainty arms…and perhaps I’ll let you:With flytrap lips and glass shaped hips…you are unfit for anything butsight.(But beauty isn’t everything)
Honesty Written from the heart.No eraser.
Her SideTomorrow she'll be gone,but what can you say?Nothing can help her.The pain won't go away.But she would've stopped,you could've said no.That's what she wanted,someone to say don't go.That someone wanted her,or at least would try.That someone would grieveif she were to die.But you just stared,nodding your head,and she realized the truthwith a feeling of dread.No one wanted her.No one cared.Not even you,with the the love you shared.So she said good-bye,and you watched her leave.She may have had the rope,but now you can't breathe.
Battle in my MindEat. Don't eat.Take it easy. Work out until you pass out.Get help.Tell someone. Keep it a secret. It's only for you and me.You're perfect. You're worthless.You're beautiful. You're disgusting.Why won't you listen? They don't understand.Let me help you. You don't understand.Show me. No!I love you..
In Corners of the YardWiping our palms down the length of our legs ~ Rough rubs against taut top muscle and absorbent cotton corddoesn't mean we're clean or strong or natural in the leastbut it's inarguablethat we are Passed Things and Ready ~The most Sanctifying movement we could make.
Whoosh Push 'Wait of the Week'not "Weight of the Weak"notwomen in windsome men made of sinPrepared for Emergent Wet LandingsT'was as no surprise the hex-vial eyeswere just as they promised to becrossed and cooked and booked with a gleereserved submersion in versionsof We...The long, clean legs of comfort contortedLimitless atmosphere ~ the Stretch of the SortedWhile she was the master of solo-shit kickingThe partnered combustibles puddy'ed...
The Night FeversA high-bed of high lands giggle-wobbled the matching pairslike oranges and apples tucked in a child's pocketBroken fans fixed were aimed well awayand the rain kept falling but never reachedCloths still soaked from the night beforeof young bar boys in Bull-Fight valoreLion's went to rest in the treesAnd plum-femininity sunny-side ups laid belowHer man's adorability by the windowwhile shower leashed cats are released like batsthe warm cheese batch came sailing in
Risena... Barge behavedbrine bathed quarter-tiltscontents spilt andstillvery much aliveBuilt of stilts andskeletal wiltsand thesucculent sandy bottom...Arrived.And Someone's Spun Them'Round and UpBoth Maker & ModelMud-shucked pluckReaper of Deeper EarthablesFather of Thunder from Undercame and claimedput it all in a bottleso clear a sphere to have uninterrupted sunglint on and on and on...re-Rising the size of somethingas big as the weather responsiblePoseidon was amazedResurrection of resting wrecksAdorned by an unweeped wreath...thebent and bubbled boneshad s
Shunted RadianceUnsung Fun - (adj.); Unapproachable Sunbakes hard all things so floppy~free, those soppable sides of suppliment-succulent earthYet itself, so Astral...PROJECTING (?!) no, it was a question ssss-sssshhh! Light electing heat; delighted heights towards vexed defeatsNight does becomes you -that black and blue fallas You call all knowings into play (v); which slow the snowbut still they show there IS a HellThe Burning Ball of brazen gallrelentlessrepentlessThe Yearning Bawl (n/v); disassociates.
repentless"
Your ability to slay with words knows no bounds, kiddo.
I bet I could make a harmless folding chair
sound like the Devil himself when I'm in this kind of mood.
Wish I could do as well when I speaking fondly of something but it just
comes out like a dropped ice cream cone.
Your words are always guiding food for my soul.
Is it your goal to make sure I snort beer out of my nose on some days more than others?