.and like a stone atthe bottom of the riveror the sea,i think life might just beflowing right past me
.you're afraidto let anyonestoke the firein your chestfor fearyou will burnthem alive
.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
.spillyour emotion,or drownin it
.and if you evermanage to get inside myhead, i'll wish you luck
.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 witherwith love;others bloom
.if thesewalls couldtalkthen i'm surethey'd bescreamingget out,burn usdown,we can'tbearto hold youanylonger(been too busy dreaming to get any sleep)
.i shudderwhen you speak;your words arecold when theytouch me
.some people are deadlong before they die -there's just no burialor cremation,no funeralfor the spirit
.everything i hold deari hold too tightly;i am so sorry you weremarked when i had tolet you go
.we are allstrayssearching forhomes ineach other
.got eyes sohungry they'reswallowing youwhole,gonna spitout your heartlike a pip
.death has a wayof assuring youthat he is youronly friend;he's the onlyone that willstay with youwhenever youreach the end
.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
.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)
.lies can slipthrough your teethwith ease,the truthgets caught inyour throat(i wish it was a lie, that i'm your flesh and blood and i wish it was the truth, that i hadn't been drinking)
.there issomethingabouthow you can makeall the animalspart themselveswith one wave ofyourhand,make them opentheir throats andspeakand i think i willfind you sticking pinsthrough the webbingof a bat's wing,cross legged inthe garden withthe snake aroundmy neck,that's how i'd liketo go(the world will shift, a heart will break away from it's chest, tectonic)
HumanityHumans are cruel.Humans are killers.Before guns it was knivesBefore that it was stonesInvasions, burning homes,Stealing lives and lovesReleasing crows andSlaughtering doves.Humans are good.Humans are kind.They live, love and laughThey have the gift of hopeHelping them all to copeThrough evil human thingsSowing seeds andSewing angel wings.Humans are strange.Humans are incomplete.Punches to kisses to gamesAnger to love to insanityTragedy to crystal clarityWhirlwinds of empty whimsEmpty prayers andHonest pseudonyms.Humans are living.Humans are dying.Ashes to ashes, soul to HellOr perhaps to HeavenNo human can really tellIf even either is real.
To See You AgainI’d swallow bleach just to see you again.I’d drown in blood and choke on death,I’d release my dying breathAll to see you again.I’d swing from a rope to see you again.I’d let go and join the black sky,I’d scream, scream until I dieAll to see you again.I’d down a storm of pills to see you again.I’d rewire my veins and run lights,I’d pick unwinnable fightsAll to see you again.I’d embrace red flames to see you again.I’d play in roads and with knives too,I’d kiss guns like I kissed you;I’d have to,To see you again.
She's a WriterShe sits at her deskHer headphones in,The world shut out.She bleeds for othersAs words fly from Her mind to her fingertips.She stares at the screen,At every little comment,The good and the painful.She forms her emotionsInto books and poemsTo throw away the hurt.She's a writer,And her best weaponsAre her mind and her pen.
[Redacted]The sword is mightyThe pen mightier still.Though blades can injureWords can kill.
How?How does one manage to cut their skin?Tear the veins that run within?How do you carefully steal a knife?The tool that's used to end your life?How do you hide from prying eyes?How do you muffle your painful cries?Where do you cut so that no one will see?So no one at school will question me?How long does it take to disappear?A day, a month or even a year?How does one pretend not to care?Pretend to read but simply stare?How does one refrain from eating?But not act like you're competing?How does one fill the great black hole?Without the hunger taking its toll?How do you make yourself violently sick?How do you get your body to tick?I've tried before but there's one small snag,All I can manage is a pitiful gag.But perhaps the question I should ask,Rather than how to complete this task,Maybe I should just sit down and cry,And ask myself not how but why?
What I Can't HaveI wanted wings To wrap me gently In such a wondrously beautiful embraceAmongst the stars and angelsSo I delicately ripped flightFrom the butterflies surrounding my windowIn the hopes they could fly me away.I wanted to feel loved To feel the doting heat Of a lovers breath on my neckAnd grasp on my heartSo I kissed the sunAnd held it ever so gentlyAgainst my breast tillIt burned me awayAnd I could reminisce in its loving burn.I wanted to be wholeWithout flaw Without ugly bones to trap my soulWithout a lifeSo desperately wantingEverything it could never have or beSo I embraced the seasSubmerged my entirety My being Letting its infinity ConsumeAll that would be left of me,Till I could only Wash among its waves
-she knew he was a grave, but she buried herself in him anyway.
War.If someone tells you, "War is hell." They lie.There are no innocents in hell.
fourdo not wish upona star, the starsare dead; the skyis filled with corpses
.you’ve gota lioninside,a heartfull ofpride,and you’renot lettinghim roar