I’m okay now guys

For as long as anyone can remember, there has always been a lonely house atop the tallest hill in the town. No one has ever lived in her, not that anyone recalls. The architecture of the house differs from the rest in town. She is gentler on the eyes, she takes pride in her simplicity. It contrasts the shiny, polished steel and granite build of the town.

Nature has taken its course. The wind and rocks have eroded her delicate beige coat. Wildlife has dug its way into her soft underbelly, they leave gaping wounds and gashes in her flesh. The rain is all she has to disguise her tears of sorrow, but it too leaves its lasting mark.

She longs for my touch — To feel my gentle hands caress her beaten and bruised body. She knows that I will show her kindness; I will look after her as my own. There will be no more harsh weather, and no more wildlife to claw at her. She will be able to rest once more.

Baby girl it is getting bad again

I feel like I’m getting closer Every time I reach for the stars The sensation burns my finger tips But it’s not nearly enough And it won’t ever be until I have one in my palm.

Tears prick the corner of your eyes. They collect, and then they burn. You can’t blink them away, Lest they burn your skin instead. Don’t splatter pain on that pretty canvas That we all love to look at. It’s your own fault anyway.

New Years and Nothing I keep thinking that maybe When the clock strikes twelve Everything will fix itself It will be warm and sunny And the snow will fall as rain again Like it’s supposed to Inside I know nothing changes There’s still the same ice That lines the streets Like always

If enough people say something about you, Then it must be true. Maybe when I look in the mirror, it isn’t obvious, But when other people see me I’m bleeding from every crevice of my face. I would stay away from me too. What if I get blood on their shoes? Will they start dying too?

Bile and… Other Fluids I feel like my stomach is turning inside out Whenever you come and touch me All the bile and black sludge and hot gore Spilling out and burning through my intestines I’m not going to have anything left If you keep holding me like this

Do (NOT) Rub It In I decided I can’t wash your blood off my face It just makes me feel so pretty When I walk by a mirror and catch a glimpse Of the mess I made I can’t stop fucking staring at my princess face My skin is getting itchy and irritated But I don’t care This way I’ll always have you with me.

Why do you always sleep on my side of the bed?  I know that you know it’s mine. Can’t you just let me have this? You have the right side of the house, and the right side of the room, is the wrong side of the bed too much to ask? I always end up waking up there anyway.

Diamonds Aren’t a Girl’s Best Friend When They Take Her Finger Off Nothing has ever felt so unfair. How am I expected to act like me When you make me feel so different? I can’t go around acting like a peasant When I’m really a princess. Why is this so hard?

Your lips are starting to burn my skin There’s a hole where my heart used to be I think it might be my own fault.

Perhaps, love is supposed to hurt. Love is meant to leech off of you, And drain you of all you have. Love leaves you feeling empty, And it makes you hopeless. Is it wrong to love that it hurts; To long for the ache of passion? Is it so inhuman to yearn for it? To love is to rip off the band-aid, And to love is to not.

I ration the rotting flesh off your corpse. You died so I would not go hungry. As I lick your blood off my fingers, Only one thought remains; “Yes, this is love.”

Do you ever feel alone? Like the only person in the world? I always do. There’s this burning sensation I get about it. It feels like drowning. Like water is pooling up in your lungs. You’re nearly close enough to shore. But help is just barely out of reach. There are people laughing with their backs turned to you. Maybe they can’t hear my pleas. ... You’re a great listener, you know? Even if you don’t say much.

Sometimes I wish you would reach under my shirt, The way you always do, and rip out my heart. That would make it much easier for me. I’d let you take it and excitedly ask, “Is it my turn now?” It’s not my turn. It never will be.