give it to me

living a life of choice and conviction: not easy.  but something tells me its necessary.  sometimes i scare myself with the stuff i am capable of--good and bad... but i know its heading somewhere.  the way i think.  big circles as the fog clears and then details details details.  why doesn't he want me?  why does it matter?  how does everything get so deep so quickly lately?  it scares me.  but something tells me it is me.  finally i am finding that confidence in me and of me.  and it doesn't mean happiness but it means a new point in my life; a point that rests on the arbitrary.  its delicacy and complexity strain me, but i must always believe in the worth i have as just me.  you cannot live for other people, it will kill you.  i am sure of it.  but i will live for the god who pisses me off but love.  and who loves me.  and he will see me through, he will show me my worth and value and potential.  he will make me okay again.  for this i pray every night.  and for my best friend, because she is everything to me.  and she deserves everything.  lord, let people into my life who will only heal me.  who will cherish me.  because people who understand me know i need that, and yeah, i deserve that.  friends.  boys.  boys who are friends.  adults.  employers.  professors.  show me that i am finally worth it all despite the voices in my head that tell me that i am nothing, and that my life is aimless, and that there is no hope.  keep my head above water and my voice true to myself.  give me honest words to those who deserve them of me; to those who i can share a part of my soul.  grant me peace with what i have been given and the choices i have made.  although fairly convinced i have hit rock bottom, you never know.  so bring me up.  i dare you.  because i want it.  and if life is mine to grab, and people say i can choose to be happy, allow me to choose the future that is mine.  i will live this life and be in this world if i am capable of making the changes to be happy again.

give it to me.

dancing in the dark.

lets be mischief
because there is nothing else
nothing else to be good for
so touch me
dont let me go
for i will surely be lost
in the decrescendo
in the dark
dont let me go
cause i wont come back

untitled

friends,

this is the day i start the rest of my life.

a boy named trouble.

i hope my words stung
like a quick jab to the heart
but why do i search you out?
i find myself drawn to your manipulation, your callous way
one day i will regret all of this, regret you
i hate it, but i really cant afford to think about it now
what with my future riding on a string of maroon and gold dental floss
i just want to be worth loving without anyone's permission
i'm going to say it
i fucking hate you
and i fucking hate that i still want you
and so continues every story about a girl and a boy
why would he possibly want me anymore?
the shame that courses through me when i see you
the hate that punches through my heart
the smile that escapes my lips
because between two people like us, it cant be simple
i fucking hate you
i fucking love you

blanket.

oh mystery,
oh satisfaction
you are nowhere
nowhere to be seen or heard
all chairs make me writhe
both sound and silence cause my fingers to crawl
and dont you dare tell me, or even suggest what i should do
or i will cut you out, just like the others
segmenting my life is no longer a problem
my woven secrets become my blanket at night
they hold me when no one else will

snip.

they say the only way to lose these bracelets is to cut them off.
so carefully we braided them with beads around our wrists,
laughing at the marks they left on our skin.
in a few showers, they began to thread away.
if they were drinking glasses, they would be chipped--useless.
in fear of seeing my pale wrist exposed,
and the scars underneath unearthed,
i tried to keep these tokens of times better forgotten together.
but really, i should let them fall,
sliding off my wrist like unwanted clothes [so often in the dark].
gravity pulls them close to her chest,
beckoning these trivial pieces fall, damn you.
and i fought.
beyond my better judgement.


i left my goddamn house, smoked a few, gave several peoples calls,
only to realize that they were not the problem.
i am the problem.
because i dont make you happy anymore.
i dont clean my room.
i dont brush my hair.
i dont do my homework.


without a sound,
i will slip away.
no more bracelets will be chained to my wrists.

claws.

there is something beautiful in it

like the edge of a razor, so clean, it shines

that danger

in eyes so dark, there is light

in secrets so big, there is truth

if only we could speak of the things so carelessly spoken

tense

pressure

release

"if only you could see yourself the way i see you"

unseen

red light made my teeth bite, and your mind race, and our breath smoke

not to be trusted

but you're everything i've wanted

so i balance between their good words

in a rut so dark, there is light

clawing at the sides of a shredded hole

gasping for air

until i sink, and let go of everything that has meant anything to me

you don't know me

you don't know anything at all

flowerland.

years ago,

i had it

my mediocre mind encased it

for a few hours, i understood

it seemed manageable

but my body has changed

and now i see an unmountable problem,

surpassing pain

but not enough to shake it off, tonight

sentences can’t hold it

fleeting, like liquid birds sliding off the page

flying into a dark that my eyes cannot make

for a few hours, pity was all mine

and i cradled it like my own child, unborn

now, the deafening connection has been made

and it traps my mind

it breaks my heart

and it is only me

all alone

and i am entirely confident that no one can understand

not even the one who speaks these haunting words, filled with broken bones and flowing blood

to an outlet that is my tears

when i can’t deal

another hopeless one.

God gave me a lot of things. Unfortunately, one of them was the keen ability to hate myself. Too many times today, I wished to disappear in a mug, or be blown away with the frighteningly strong wind. Or perhaps to become notes on a page, simple and permanent, lending to a greater sound than the pathetic one I have been creating as of late. Dissonance has never sounded so beautiful than now; hallowed images never so patronizing and true. Having been given permission to diverge of the more foundational complications of my existence, I confess that I have no words for the things that tug at me day and night. What's done is done, as they say. I am sorry, but I can only pick myself up so many more times. Life feels like crawling, and every step causes rugburn to slowly tear at my feeble skin and the cracks that were already there break. I will continue to tear at these scars until they heal from the outside-in, because I cannot access my blood and bones if my mind denies their growing. I'm so mature, aren't I? Questioning everything for myself. One day, hopefully your sons and daughters will be just like me--secretly dying, little by little. Where do all these noises in this too-quiet house come from? The dark scared me when I was a child--I now find myself frightened again. Sorry, mother, father, but I cannot bind up my mouth like a slave to my secrets. As I ride through the night empty cries emit from my sour mouth, and once again, I am gone with the wind, which has intruded on my time. Didn't you know? I am having an affair with the night.

a selfish proclamation of me.

in that little room, i told you i wasnt good at anything

but you leave and i am good at whatever i need to be, or have to be

in dip shit land, the girls who love their faces continue without a second thought to a whole soul gone without them

today i remembered that i am not pretty enough to turn heads

nor kind enough to get over the dam that blocks all real, good thoughts

not recognizable

not even when lying

just a bright smiling face when i need to be

and exhausted when the pretenses fall away, like sheets of sleet off a window

im sorry i cant be enough for anyone right now

i am not fun, hard working, pleasant, or anything

just a case of a person

that melts like plastic at the close of another day

one day, i will make a necklace with beads that shine blue, iridescent of the night

like clothes of a queen

and people will see it and understand

i will be in that bead

and you will see into my soul

dsm-iv.

that little bouncing black ball

that turns into a hole

its real

only a few of the lessons i've learned.

from you, i learned responses that mean nothing

you, how to make someone feel loved without trying. which doesn't mean anything either.

and you, how to live simply.

from you, you bastard, how to fall so easily.

you, that i was worth it.

you, how to survive, despite life throwing every obstacle it knows.

you, to render sympathy and not let life kick you in the ass.

ha, you, to let yourself feel every few months or so.

you, sweet boy, are still learning.

you, how to be silent and know the sound.

and you, how to throw your cares to the wind, and run and fetch them shortly after.

from you, naming something and holding it passionately close.

christian

ryan

zack

christian

trevor

father

mother

sister

brother

anna

hannah

laurel

black sheep.

and not the kind that soothes you to sleep.

shitdamn. i am that angsty person. who felt like a lesbian because she asked a girl to qdoba and called someone that she didn't know well enough beautiful. who ate a burrito alone and then played some chopin after her steady chocolate heart sugar-buzz wore off on the closing of another valentine's day that really just needed to be over. because she broke up with her boyfriend two weeks before. yup. feelin sorry for myself. who a few nights before burst of self pity into spurratic tears and researched mood disorders. who needs her sister, but her sister is too busy with her boyfriend and important life to check if she is feeling better. im not, by the way. mostly lonely. realizing that no one is really in these shoes... i really wish i could explain it to you. i do. but i cant. and even that sounds angsty. but when i feel so alone who am i supposed to go to if the people that i want to cant understand? get over it. move on. push it down. i fucking cant okay? and its not about a goddamn boy. i am just the sarcastic instigator. not the lonely, hurt one. hurting. i am not my problems, but sometimes it feels like it. so i listen to bach as a i sit in my bed because i couldnt go to class today. because i couldnt care enough to walk over, to present myself. cancel all my appointments that ever happened. i am done. i want to write music. instead i have to write a fucking bibliography. leave me falling.

that illusion of middle ground.

i'll never do you wrong

no harm

i don't want this to be a stressful thing

its always the same.

another person takes up mental space

they or you grow tired

it ends

and they leave a dent

makes my brain smaller, its tiring really.

so i read my books,

and try to discover the reason i get up in the morning,

or who i am right before i wake up

or something

the list continues.

goodbye my almost lover

goodbye my almost friend

as another year rests on the pinnacle,

waiting to fall,

i reconsider what i knew

relish what i have

cry at what i hate about myself and the world

and smile at the love i see around me

my heart is doing that twisting thing again,

squeezing the eyedrops out of my eyes

this time not in front of

an audience,

but in the silence of the night in a house that doesn't feel like home tonight,

as i face realities i am putting off until the

next day, and the next

simplicity, dictation--where did you go?

assurance, conviction,

caught in my throat

we knew

we all knew

before it even began

as always

not meant to last

to flourish

to remain captivating for life

but that love lives on

but i wait in its ashes, caught in a storm of dust

i am so happy that you're happy

now i have a standard which to live by

my sisters i anguish in the days i have lost

live on a thread, because another hand will surely catch you if you find yourself falling

ignore me

i speak nonsense that only resonates in my own ears