A message to the brokenYou drown yourselfin liquid sorrows,letting the salty messburn your wounds,and the sadnessto drip in your mouth,consuming your wordsand you sayyou deserve the pain,but I want to dry your face,and whisper in your earhow the clouds cry too,while they hold such beauty,and so do you.
Cement HeartI built a wallaround my heart,and sworeI'd never let you inbut the more time thatI spend with you,allows the beatsto crackthe cement.
Candle WaxYou meltmy heartlike candle wax,but I'm afraidover timeI'll getburnt.
IntrovertEveryone's tryingto get out ofthe shadowof their parents-I'm here tryingto get out ofthe shadowof myself.
Melancholy thoughtsI tastethe sweetnessin your words,only to wonderhow many othershave tastedthem too.
Pretty metaphors are for pretty girlsI told you to stopspewing pretty metaphors at me,for with each elaborate comparison,I feel a bit moredetached from this worldAnd maybe I don’t feel so strong at the moment,but would you beif you felt like the entire universewas resting upon your shoulders,and someone was just there saying:But you’re stronger than the powerful beatsof a butterfly’s wingsAnd maybe I do need more confidence,but would you exuberate itwhen the part you hated most about yourselfwere the freckles that have speckled your face for years,and someone was just there muttering:They’re not flaws,but rather stars that form constellationsYes, I can’t help but hateall those unrealistic metaphorsyou choose to pelt at me when I’m low,yet the irony is,I know that those beautiful wordsare realistic in your eyes,So I can’t hate you.
Forgiveness takes twoThe words are strugglingto tumble off my tongue,and despite havinga fleshy cushionto rest on,they stain my teethand sting like acid"I'm sorry," I stutter,but the bitter tastedoesn't leave my tongue-not because the words weren't true,but because I knowI won't hear,"me too."
Apologies to a friendYou pour your heart out to me,and are willingto submerge mein an oceanof loveyet when I see the waterrushing towards me,I convince myselfI don't liketo swim
GoodbyeI want to mutter a million things,but they’re catching in my throatAnd my heart is heavy in my chest,with a weight that holds a heavy loadThis weight is not a pound of gold,but rather a pound of worthless rocksAnd now I’m spitting bits of gravelas I try to talk
DifferenceTo be lonely is painful,To be alone is liberating.
Sanctuary?Shadows Can't Follow You In The Dark.
one.you told me that lifewas full ofcolor... thenwhy do mytearsrungrey.
Sheets“I adore you,”she said, whimsically twisted in the rippled gossamer sheets of their bed.And in these words were memories of weather-worn love letters,long kisses with smeared roseate lipstick,and layered mascara outlining her chatoyant eyes,for he loved the way it looked.“I misspoke,”she said months later, tightly grasping the rippled gossamer sheets of her bed.And in these words were soiled and crumpled goodbye notes,untarnished roseate lipstick on her opulent lips,and smeared mascara, creating an ashy mess on her pillowcase,for who cares if he used to love the way it looked.She whispered to empty sheets,“I meant abhor you.”
Lonely:When you'reso unwantedthat evenyour thoughtschooseto exityour company.
Death isn't a fresh perspectiveI saw my motherswallowing something smallwhen I was just a childThe anguish in her eyesfaded, as she told meit was just atic-tac,with a little extra kickmaybe years later,that's how I convincedmyselfto swallow fifteen,thinking it'dgive me a fresh perspective;in the end,my breath reekedof deathinstead of mint.
When you lose a best friendWhen we said friends forever andcrossed pinkies like grade-schoolers,I could only believe those wordslodged in your heartlike they did minebecause every time I think backI can't help but remember thelate-night conversationsunder star lit constellations,and study sessions where welearned more about each otherthan we did Biology but now it's clearthat each beat of your hearthas made those words fade,and you could care lessabout crossed pinkiesbut I'll still see you,and hear your voicewhisperingforever, and I'll still wishthe meaning hadn't changed-like you.
Railroad TracksYou drawrailroad trackson your wristhoping themetal-made grooveswill takeyou somewherebetterBut these tracksyou're chugging along ononly put youon a trainthat is zoomingtoward a deep,dark tunnelAnd at the end of this tunnel,there is no light.
You're worth so much moreShe was the typeto cut her wrists,and then swallow therazor blade,because looking at whatshe'd donewas even harderto digestbut I want to tell herto let the emotionss l p i lout of her mouth,instead of herskin,and that I'll gladlylet the words slice me,if it meansit'll saveher wrists.
We see different starsWe see different starsWhile yours shine throughoutthe darkness of your night,light the way into your sky,and hold your wishes tilthey finally come true,mine reflect in the murky filthfrom which they can be seenacting as disgusting mirrorsinto a world which cannot be mine
the dead and the dyingthe funny thing abouthumans is thatwe think we areinvincible and immortalgods.no—we're allroadkill,living ina tainted worldwhere cars drivetoo damn fast.and me,well,i just try toget by withoutbeing hitmore than once.
ProblemsHatred, whether based onYour looksYour personalityYour smileYour tearsYour realityYour fantasiesYour happinessYour depressionYour honestyLiesFeelingsDreamsGoalsWishes..Hatred,Hatred is the problem.Not you.
.what doesn't kill youcomes back with something strongerto finish the job
-she knew he was a grave, but she buried herself in him anyway.
.death has a wayof assuring youthat he is youronly friend;he's the onlyone that willstay with youwhenever youreach the end
.he pointsto a crucifixon the left sideof his necktells me he can end allof your suffering -and i look at himand i cross my arms, thinkinghe can't even do this
.we are allstrayssearching forhomes ineach other
.sometimes faith slowlyprises open our ribsdecides to slip outquietlyand unseen
It's Okay to be ImperfectThe moonhas craterstoo,and lookhow brightit shines,even inthe darkestof times.