Anonymous said: How are you dear?

Little frazzled. But excited for the weekend, a couple of my friends are getting married.


Flower Print Dresses and Other Tradgedies

It’s raining and there’s a bit of thunder

But I can’t stop thinking about how the moon 

Will never get to see this,

And neither will you.

But the water will flow over the grave where we buried you last February

And wash the dust away

From months of neglect.

I’m sorry I never visit you anymore.

But my head is pounding

And I don’t eat much these days.

I’ve just been yearning to get out the door

But the sun doesn’t kiss my skin like it used to,

And no, neither will you.

But calls don’t make up for friends I never see,

The paper I’ve been folding doesn’t bring joy to me,

And frankly I’m straining to breathe

Until the day I get out of here

Because I’m sick of pills and withdrawal,

Side effects without side causes,

Apologies from mouths that did not bring this upon me.

I’m sick of tears that should not have shed

Kind of like my last days with you.

I’m sick.

That’s the problem.

I’m sick and this is only making me sicker,

And the rain isn’t helping anymore.

I haven’t touched rain since the day

I wore the flower print dress

And someone new told me it was pretty,

Even though I wasn’t wearing it for him,

I was wearing it for you.

My dreams constitute of ideas that became impossible

That one dreadful day I went to the library in the flower print dress

And woke up a week later with tubes pushing life

Through my paper pale skin.

You used to have skin like that.

Every blue vein pulsing with synthetic material

And they know it is not made of me.

But I am made of my sickness

And the sickness is made of me,

So maybe I’ll be joining you soon.

We can join the moon,

Maybe she’ll show us something better than

Rain and a little bit of thunder.


Anonymous said: ur a dick

Eh, not really.



Smoke floods around me
Like curtains in a chapel
I breathe you in
Forcing my lungs to accept the death
That slowly closes them
As I await the sound I’ve equally feared
Yet yearned for
My entire life.
I feel the barrel,
Cold metal trace my body.
You want this to be unbearable
Just like when I lost you.
They say when one sense is taken away
The rest are heightened
All you have left me with is
I can almost convince myself
I can hear perfectly out of my deaf ear
I hear heavy breathing
Mine or yours?
My breath is limited to short, shallow
Gasps of cancer until I die


Sometimes I wish I was wanted.

I know my friends love me.

And my parents love me.

But I want one person to want me.

Because I get more compliments on my earrings, 

Than any other aspect of my entirety. 

What is it about me that appalls everyone?


I did something brave this week,

But no one will ever know, 

And no one will ever care.

Cause I’m taking it back

I’m taking it back..

I’m gone.


Anonymous said: How are you

Exceptionally tired, annoyed, and sad. Thanks for asking.


Oh, Sanity

Oh what a disease it is
To love someone that will
Never love you back.

I watch you day in and out,
I barely exist to your pale skin,
Yet you are the reason I feel the rain.

You follow after a tiny frame,
Perfectly proportioned
Practically perfect
And I trail behind,
Silently hating myself for still
Loving you.

And I wonder why you,
The lamb, couldn’t have fallen in love
With me, the lion.

Oh how I wish
For once
To be sought after.

It’s been too many bright sunsets,
And bleak twilights,
Since someone has only thought of me.

Oh what a disease it is
To love
And never be loved.



The doctors tell me I’m still alive
Even though I still can’t
Hear or feel my heart beating.
Let’s open up and see what we can find
Take a look at the
shriveled heart of mine
And maybe when I bleed out
I’ll feel better knowing that
My pulse and my body are finally

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