I could just reach out and grab them
Each bottle
Each pill

And swallow them whole
Listening to a lull

I’d fall asleep till forever and on
Never again to be plagued
By the scars on my arm.

My poor head would stop yelling
And the wind would come in
And carry me off
To a place with no whims.


Still searching

You make me tear away the wallpaper that is my skin.

Underneath is me.











And you like me better this way.

You love me more now

How is that my dear?

And where can I find you?



I wish someone knew that this broken heart

Can’t go on any longer.

I just want someone 

That I can talk to about anything

Someone who can’t stand being away

But would rather gaze from a distance 

To let me shine.

Someone who puts care into every fucking

touch he gives me because he wants


to mean something.

Really I just want someone.

Because I’m tired of looking desperate

I’m tired of being sad

And I’m tired of hurting people.

Will someone ever find me beautiful?

Will he actually mean it this time,

Instead of hoping flattery would lift my shirt?

Will I ever truly be loved?


Glass Walls

That’s depression

It’s like looking through a glass door. 

You are on one side

On the other is your family, your friends,

and everything wonderful and beautiful

that you love in life.

But all you can ever do is touch the glass

You can look at it, and see it all happening in front of you,

but there will always be something keeping you from it all.

You hold your hand against the glass.

You so desperately want to touch the other side.

To know happiness.

But you can never break the glass.

You’re trapped but you have to watch

it all happen in front of you

and live with the fact that you can’t ever

touch the other side.

That’s depression.


I wish you hadn’t broken my hand and my heart all in one go.

For at least if I couldn’t comfort you,

I would have held your hand.



Like butterfly bruises,

His lips were the hunter,

My skin, the deer.


How To Lose Hope: For Dummies

It’s going to come to a point where you just give up.

And this is how it happens.

He was the Mr. Darcy to my Lizzie Bennett. 

He was the smell before the rain, the blood in my veins.

But soon enough, I was forced to understand

the depth of the word,


So I drowned myself out with the alcohol in the cabinet,

no one would ever know that’s where the headaches come from.

At first, they told me that I need to keep my head up,

"It’ll be okay!"

After a trip to the hospital, I think they finally got it.

"There may be stars in the sky,

wind in the air,

and sun in the clouds, 

but without you, we do not want them!”

But then I simply stopped telling everyone

"I’ve relapsed"

I don’t think it’d make a difference if I did.

So I began to immerse myself in dreams to escape

This reality.

I dream of the day when cigarettes give you oxygen,

and 7 years from now,

because one day in Biology we learned that

"All the cells in your body are replaced over every 7 years!"

 So I wondered what my life would feel like

With a body that he’s never touched. 

Could I be a child again then?

But eventually, waiting became too much.

I got tired of waiting for my childhood to come back,

like a love letter regretfully sent in the mail.

Because neither were ever coming back to me.


I hope this time I’ll forget you.


I Suppose

That was the year you saved the queen
Broke her heart,
And ruined her soul.

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