I don't think you know
Just how much
I wish you would look at me
How you look at them
How you looked at him.
I wait for your poems daily
Your notes of absolute gold
And I wish
On every 11:11
For you

My mind tells me I deserve to bleed
That it’s okay that it hurts like hell
That it’s good that the blood won’t stop
Because the blood is mine
The blood is of the person who messed up in conversation
The blood is of the one who’s eyes are devastatingly like her father’s
Of the person who got to school 4 minutes late
And for the one who just sat there class while she knew that there was someone somewhere in pain
For the one who wasn’t there to help them

But my mind also asks me
If my blood is the same
as the three year old who’d play
with napkins and pens
Because creative and strange
Is far better
Than bored and average

My mind asks
If the skin that I tear open
Is the same skin
That the 7 year old’s tears poured down on
Because she was starting to understand
That her father’s behavior was not normal

And even though that ******* that is my head told me to my face
That I am unlovable
And that I deserve to bleed
It somehow had the nerve
To make me feel guilty for yet another thing

It told me I was hurting
the little girl who already
Was struggling

And it told me I was hurting
the grandma with grandkids on her lap
Of whom I’m threatening
Deprivation of snuggling

My mind said
That by doing that
I deserved to bleed and suffer even more

And as the pain starts
It asks me again
If it was just me that I’m hurting

I saw an Angel in my dream.
She said she would fulfill any wish I have.
"Should I make you the best ?"she asked.
"No,"said I.
"Just a little better than yesterday.
That will do."

that feeling.
you know the one.
all emotion is drained of your body and all worth is ****** away.
When you're so numb you can't be real, yet you feel every little thing that grazes your skin.
you feel tired, yet so overwhelmed and awake
and it hurts.
you cant escape
and it hurts.
that feeling of overwhelming upsetting forgetting and regretting.
your mind isnt your own, yet your body is undeniably so.
you cant even decode your own thoughts, for the mess they spew out is only to be just that, a mess.
your words come out as delirium, your heart racing and genuinely not functioning
everything
everywhere all at once.
like you have no mouth, yet must scream
have no control
incessantly and unequivocally continuous
that visceral, inexplicable feeling remaining, restraining
not just disorder, complete discord, chaos, absolute anarchy
inside the mind
and again this body remained still.

you couldn't possibly imagine could you?
of course not.

I don't often tell the truth
About what's inside me head
Though I lacked the skill in youth
I wished I'd end up dead.

All the voices deep inside
Echo throughout my brain
If the truth were not to hide
You may call me insane.

I used to be a smiley girl, happy all the time
Then you came into my world, and sold it for a dime.

Now I lie about my feelings, my thoughts, and all my pain
Because I was taught that I should never
Say what's going on inside my brain.

My mind rushes to the beat of the fastest drum
Unfortunately I'm afraid of what I have become.

No. Worse than that.
She loved you in every single one, just not ours.
She cared for me once in all my life when it benefitted her.
And cast you out when it was convenient to save you.
She loved us in all but one.
And we got the shortest straw...

“Are you okay?”

Sweetheart, I write poetry
And some kindhearted people said I write it well
…
That can only mean one thing
My mind is an unescapable hell

“Yeah, just tired”

Dear Shane, you will get well.
You have a long battle ahead.
Fight it with all your might.
Don't give up.

Look straight into the eye of death.
Tell it to go back.

Ask death to come -

when you are 100 years old,
when all your hair turns silver,
and all your teeth fall off.

That is when you will meet death, smiling.