TrueI'm a liar telling the truth
worthwhiletired eyes and a sleepy smilei wonder if it'll be all worthwhile
sounds of settlingi gave a home to lost ghosts and monsterssomewhere in the spaces between my bones
Watercolour bruiseseverything hurts;invisible bruises are spreadinglike watercolour spreading on papermy insides are black and blue
winglessif i was bornwith feathers tornthen who am ibut a bird that cannot fly
escapismrun run run runi am always and foreverin a state of wantingand longingto be anywhere but here
shotyou saidyou're black and bluebut bulletproofand youtold me to shoot
Vaguewalking on a thin linebetween pain and pleasureHave you ever teased fire?Pray for rainwhen things go wrongNails on palmsJust don't let goBecause You Were Promised forever
drown we drown in sins and superstitionsin a town too small to breathe
what it means to move on1.he told me that if i caught the next train to Detroit,he would grab me by the waist and take me to theedge of Proud Lake in Commerce, MI.holding both sides of my face, he would list offall the reasons why i was the one.i am burying this fantasy,pulling the hum of his voice out of my ear drums.2.if you were here right now, i would kiss youhe said before spilling gasoline under my car tiresand flicking his half-smoked cigarette into it.i miss the taste of his nicotine.i miss every strand of his hair.we are both addicts.3.his hand was the span of Orion.in it, he held mine and squeezed all too forcefully.i should have taken this as a warning, a signof love's tendency to strangle its participants.4.i just want my best friend backhe whispered in between apologies.my arms ached to accept, butsome promises are better off broken.5.i spent my 16th birthday reading the palm of his hand;little did i know i was dyslexic in the art of skin.his canvas was calloused and w
TerrorWhen dreamscrawl into reality run.
the love machinei never claimed to be bulletproof but people aren't gunsso when a boy shoots me a smile,i shouldn't bleed out through firing holes.maybe i'm a shell-shocked soldier, fightingjust so i can hold onto something.there's a difference between holding on & not letting go;the former has a lower casualty rate.i collect the bodies littered on battle fieldsin the hopes of surrender.there's a difference between surrender & giving up;the latter is something i have never been taught.so i see the ugly in a boy who has Detroit, Michiganpulsing through his veins. i watch the firing squadtake turns twisting his insides with ammunition,see him coil himself into an automatic triggerwith ranges set to 300 miles worth of promises.the force behind his release is worthy of statues,enough to alter venus' orbit.we lost each other somewhere amidst the debris,the space dust and rocket emission, flailing arms and all.he abused his right to bear arms,wrote me love letters on the strap of his AK
MaybeYes,OrNo.Nothing in between.Definite answersTo almost any question.Yet,Why is there a maybe?A neutral response?One that leaves you questioning.Maybe,Both yes and no.An indefinite answer.Leaves you wondering.What is the answer?Is it yes?Is it no?
My life in six wordsToo busy daydreaming to live properly.
Six Word Self PortraitBloody fists broken mirror.Still alone.
.they say home is wherethe heart is, well i'veonly ever had one of those
NikkiSome insanity helps keep you sane.
WishA Wish.A Dream.Never Reality.
something lacking this way comesshe smells of smoke, tastesof cheap dreams and cheaper makeup,sounds like someone who's usedto giving; her eyes are twoglossy sunsets out of a fewtrillion that have set before--when she shuts them, no oneblinks.
dawni keep dreamingabout a boywith dark circlesaround his eyessmoking cigarettesat 3 in the morning