9:20pm // YOU CANT END WHAT DIDNT BEGIN

I’m not sure what happened,
but somewhere along the line our nothing became something to me.
the worst part about that is 
now every fibre of my being is screaming to run,
to ruin it.
it’s screaming that it’s one-sided.
that while 
my heart is bursting into flames,
yours is trying to pour cold water to douse me with pain.
that I’m preparing myself to run into a brick wall again,
and soon enough I’ll be covered in bruises.
I didn’t want this to be anything,
and the problem is that it isn’t anything.
yet,
my heart has tried to plant its roots in your garden
while yours is trying to pick me out like a weed.
and my mind is saying
to stop trying to grow with you because
I’m not a flower you’re willing to feed.
though I’m unsure if my mind is playing tricks again,
and I’m not sure if you’re just a friend.
the worst part?

I don’t want to ask,

because frankly.. I’m scared to be right.

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names

when they said his name, I didn’t think of the way his hand touched mine. for a second I forgot about the words I spit from my mouth when his tried to taste my tongue. no, I thought of when he spoke your name and asked what I saw in you. I remember that night you kept me safe when his hungry eyes saw me as nothing more than a mouse to chase. I may not remember that night, but I’ll never forget that in my darkest hours you were my light. I was the match and you were my flame. now you’re nothing but a burned out wick and I’m smoke in the wind. memories of us have began to fade but I’ll never forget how we burned together.

dear god, we could have set the world on fire.

2:16am again

I can’t stop crying and it’s not like a tear now and then. It won’t stop and I can’t stop, I don’t want to. I just feel so lonely, and not a lonely that I’m used to. I kept tell myself and others that you need to be okay on your own but I’m at the point where I’m always alone. I drive people away. I don’t have anybody. I keep thinking I have you but I’m not even sure I do anymore.

I think I’ve made up this delusion that you still care and are in my life, because without that I’d truly have nobody. I’ve opened up to you and I’m so scared that you’re closed off because that would cause everything to fall apart. We don’t even talk, and you’re not even there when I call half the time. Probably more than half the time.

But I think I would go crazy to know you’re actually gone. Though I also want to know if you are so I can hide away from everyone. Without worrying if I’m leaving anyone behind. I’m just.. I don’t even know anymore. I’m nothing.

I don’t want to exist, in some ways I feel like I don’t. How that is, I’m not quite sure. I mean I’m here but not you know?

I know you must get tired of my late night texts/calls, but if you’re up please answer. You’re the only person I have that I actually talk to and I’m just feeling.. I don’t even know..

i’m trying

I’m trying to prove that I am more than an empty rib cage, but how do I do that when I can’t feel my own heartbeat. When I’ve managed to match the hollow hole in my chest with every fibre of my being. I am nothing. I am nothing more than a memory, one that’s been left crying on the floor for far too long. The rips in my jeans bend at the knee, torn and worn from every time I couldn’t manage to pick myself up. I am nothing more than the empty bottles left lying in front of the door. The door that is my mind, one I’ve used to shut everyone out. I need not be pitied for my own mess, it is no fault but my own for this nothingness. I’ve become this nothingness. Nothing more than a walking hole, with a hollow mind and a broken soul. Nothing to offer other than my bruised limbs and the need to become whole. 

cleanse

trying to find a reason to live in empty bottles, that maybe after my fourth or fifth I’ll find hope at the bottom. I’m on my sixth but I don’t care to keep count anymore.

for I’ve found more hope in the bottom of empty wishing wells than I’ve managed to find in the deepest corners of my mind.

 Im tired of tearing my mind apart in hopes of removing the memories you’ve left in me, for they’ve become ingrained in every part of me.

my skin crawls like when you were next to me. Something no shower can remove, no matter how many I take. It always feels like there’s a layer I cannot remove, one that can be temporarily hidden under the blood I’ve bled.

instead I pour alcohol down my throat, not that I want to drink.. but in hopes I’ll feel it cleanse me from the inside out

just for one night .. 

branded

The numbing of my knuckles as they come in contact over and over with the tiles wet from the shower I’m using to try to feel clean again.

Somehow I still feel their hands on me. Fingerprints left like stains, they feel like a birthmark I wish I was never born with but I was never born with it.

Instead I was branded.

They were not something you could wash away, skin deep. I’ve tried to dig them out, believe me 
I tried.

My body is my home and I never invited them in. They threw a welcome party, one that costed me the cleanliness of my own skin.

scars and prescription bottles 

I sit in skin that doesn’t feel my own, it’s a detailed map of each hand they’ve laid upon me.

See?
This is the scar from that 8th grade boy.

See?
This is the mark from when I thought I was unstoppable, glass was my kryptonite.

See? This is the scar from that one time.

You know the time I tried to run in front of a car because I thought that if it hit me I wouldn’t have to go back to see her.

The scar isn’t actually from the car or from tripping over the curb, it’s from that glass she threw at me when she found out I tried to kill myself.

All I remember are the bruises she created and the feeling of his grips on my wrists, nothing more than a cage I can’t escape from.

Why didn’t they tell me that you can’t escape your problems if they’re within, but they did.

They did.
I just didn’t want to listen.

I don’t want to listen, but I can no longer ignore the scream of my own voice.

I no longer recognize the face in the mirror. Almost as if I don’t want to know me, why would I?

That would mean remembering the touch of strangers on my skin, and that feeling has become far too familiar. 

I wish I was as good at refilling my happiness as I am at refilling prescriptions bottles.

My body feels more like a pharmacy, not a home but more like hell. I don’t feel like me anyway, so it’s all worth a shot – 

at least I know it’ll numb me.
and that’s better than not being me. 

3am thoughts of you

I wish I had the courage to ask you out on a date.

I sit here, nearly 3am and all I can think of is your warm smile and gentle eyes. Wanting to have your head against my chest, body wrapped in mine.

I know you’ll not agree as your life is too busy. Just once, I want to relieve you of the commotion you deal with daily.

It’s not possible, but if I could beat impossibility – it would be for you. 

You’re so deserving of a break in chaos, even if you may disagree. I see you differently. Perhaps it’s the glow of attraction that’s been sugarcoating your flaws.

Maybe it’s that I’ve finally seen past your tough exterior, to the gentle soul behind tough words and anger.

It’s a flaw of mine that I’ve always searched for the good in people. Yet this flaw has allowed me to experience such happiness, in the strangest forms.

You grant me happiness, even with the way you’re never here.. I appreciate your honesty.

And I want to return the favour.
I want to show you that someone cares, selflessly. 

And that person, is me.

eyes as deep as space

No star in the night sky could compare
to the lights that lit up in the
beautiful eyes upon her face.

I’ve gotten lost so often you’d think
they were as vast as space, in some ways..
they are.

For they carry the truth within her heart, the words she dare not say aloud.

They’ve become my home and cage,
all in one. A place I feel safe in,
yet one I can’t escape.

Finding my way back to you is like walking through the many corridors
of a maze, frustrating
and in some ways infuriating.

Though the challenge presented
in front of me is one I cannot pass on.
For I hope, at the end of it all ..
I will have you in my arms again.

Something I’ve grown fond of, and something I not dare leave behind.