.some thoughts get so loud thatyou cry out for them to leave;they scatter like birds startledout of their trees, before landingagain where they wereand after a while,you just have tolet them sing
.you're afraidto let anyonestoke the firein your chestfor fearyou will burnthem alive
.and if you evermanage to get inside myhead, i'll wish you luck
.you’ve gota lioninside,a heartfull ofpride,and you’renot lettinghim roar
.one day the earth will dim;the light in the sun will flicker and die,and the moon will sigh and roll over,keeping her back to the worldour shadows will say farewellto our bodies, and go their ownway in the darkness
.some people are deadlong before they die -there's just no burialor cremation,no funeralfor the spirit
.i shudderwhen you speak;your words arecold when theytouch me
.you were life's newwork of art;small easel bonesand a blankcanvas of skinbut he ruined you over time,added the brushof a scaror two
.you got given a life,now you have to earn your living
.your heartalone shouldremind younot to beatyourself upyour pulseshould remindyoukeep steady
.spillyour emotion,or drownin it
.there's no pointin leaving the chrysalisif you've gotno desire to fly
.everything i hold deari hold too tightly;i am so sorry you weremarked when i had tolet you go
.i don't believethat if you can dream ityou can do it,cos i once dreamt thati killed atlas,i tore him limb from limb and theni stabbed the globe he held,watched itdeflate,and sometimes i get sadabout the children in the worldwho will choke on all the wordsthat they'll never learn to speak,and there's a baby somewhere garglingthe meaning of his life,and he's a little bit upset that youkeep wiping itaway(i have no words for you)
.if thesewalls couldtalkthen i'm surethey'd bescreamingget out,burn usdown,we can'tbearto hold youanylonger(been too busy dreaming to get any sleep)
.some people witherwith love;others bloom
.i dug up thepast again, thosememories viciousand snarlingi set them looseinside the houseand now we haveto leave
.i've got a few bonesin my closet but they aren'tmine, they don't quite fit
-she knew he was a grave, but she buried herself in him anyway.
a poem on the inner workings of my chaotic mindit isn't like i'mlazy or anything it's just thatthe thought of getting lostin a crowd of ten or more peoplemakes me want to puke.this is not just somestupid little hang-up that you canjoke about when i'mdigging my fingernails into my palm sohard that blood is drawn as we walk throughschool hallways so packed that it feelslike we're suffocating from too muchoxygen but i just grit my teeth andlaugh "yeah, i know, i just don't likebeing around people sometimes."but you know,there's just something about the waymy mother says "go out and have a lifeand stop looking like the worldbetrays you every day"that makes my stomach dropor when my dad looks at me and justsighs, like they've finally realizedi was never good enough to betheir daughter.and to everyone who believes thati just need to relax,to just calm down and think:fuck you. fuck you for trying to pretendlike you know how it feels when mybones grind together like brokengears as i walk by people who mayor
[Redacted]The sword is mightyThe pen mightier still.Though blades can injureWords can kill.
RealHow can you expect to see the truth in the mirror?When your eyes are clouded by the filter of 'inferior'
...and everytime i flipthroughthese empty pages,alli can seeare the blankstares glaringbackat me.[i have nothing to say .]
Barb WireYour barb-wired brainwon't let me in,and I'm getting cuttrying to jumpthe fence.
I can't write poetry for dead girls.there are toomany pills in thisworld and toomuch misery inthe human heartbut that didn't meanthat you could justup and leave whenwe both know itcould have gotten betterand i miss you likea wolf misses her packor a goddamn dragon missesher fire and i'm sorrythat i can't give youa bouquet of jasmines(they were yourfavorite, after all,because that wasthe only princesswith a pet tiger)because poppies aretoo cliche and i'msorry i wasn't therewhen all you neededwas a hug and for someoneto whisper "it's okay,you're perfect enoughfor me, don't listento that junkie bitchwho just happened togive birth to you" and didyou know that i'm still waitingfor a reply to that oneemail about the world'sbest puns because fuck,there's a stubborn partof me that still refuses tobelieve that you're gone.
Endorsed By The Surgeon General.She was like cigarettes.She took his breathaway,and filled his lungs with promisesthat evaporated likesmoke.
windfallI would gather allthe seven seas for you.for me, you would notspare a raindrop.
.and like a stone atthe bottom of the riveror the sea,i think life might just beflowing right past me