What You Wanted

I remember the first time I got high in spite of you…

The smoke burned my lungs and the white powder burned my nostrils and all it did was make me see you.

So I swallowed the pills and chewed the mushrooms, trying to see anything and everything else.

Still you stood there watching me in a world of terror, shaking your head and mouthing “I told you so.”

I screamed at you to leave me alone and you put your face in mine and screamed right back.

The first time I got high in spite of you was the first time I discovered how much I loved you.

So I let my lungs burn and my eyes turned red and soon enough you were gone.

I couldn’t see you through the clouds of smoke and I couldn’t see you when the lights began to flash and my heart began to race.

Nothing made me more angry than to look up into the mirror I smashed with my fist when you told me I would never be enough.

Those cracks distorted my face, showing only those red eyes and the smeared make up and the twisted smile.

The funny thing is that this is what you wanted.

You wanted a broken soul to repair.

You wanted an addiction you could break.

You wanted someone who doesn’t sleep, someone like me.

And then you left when you realized that you can’t save someone.

I was cracked when you met me and I shattered when you left.

So I get high in spite of you, wondering who will be the next one to pick up the pieces only to drop them again.

When I Love You Most

When the streetlights hang low and that black shirt fits you just right…

is when I love you most.

Because the streetlights, they know our drunken dances by heart.

They know our darkest secrets and deepest kisses.

They guide us home where I’ll love you until the lights fade and the rest of the world rises for the sun.

And when you wake up and light a cigarette while you read your favorite book, is when I love you most.

I remember the night that the streetlights went out and all we could see were stars and I tried to write a poem about the universe and you pretended to love it like you love your favorite book.

But the lights flickered back on and the stars disappeared and for awhile you did too.

And I remember the night you came back and I lit your favorite book on fire and you used that black shirt that fits you just right to put it out.

You still wear that shirt for me even with the smoke stain on the sleeve.

You told me that while you were away you had a dream of someone else’s hands on me beneath the streetlights.

So they led you home where you found me with a bottle of your favorite wine reading your favorite book.

I was crying because I didn’t understand a word of it and you didn’t have the patience to explain.

That night I loved you least.

Because even though I knew all of your favorite things you still walked into the world of the sun, and left me wondering if the damn streetlights would remind you of the stars and me.

And when you came home you didn’t yell at me for starting the fire, and you didn’t fight back.

You just put it out and looked at me with the eyes that I love the most.

I wanted to start riots and I wanted to see you burn but the next morning I found you smoking a cigarette while you read my poem about the universe, as if it were your favorite book.

And that is when I knew you loved me most.

When I sleep

I wanna feel like I feel when I’m asleep…

Because when I’m in the world of my subconscious no one can touch me

Even in a nightmare the demons can’t grab hold of me

I’ve stopped running from them, the demons I mean

They circle and they scream and they laugh but they cannot touch me

It gives me a power and control that, when I’m awake, isn’t in me

I wanna feel like I feel when I’m asleep because in the world of my subconscious I’m running through things unknown

I discover a whole new world where no one has ventured but me

It’s like Alice’s wonderland

Except my wonderland is full of desires and fears and lusts

I wanna feel like I feel when I’m asleep because the earth as we know it no longer exists and I can leap across universes and meet creatures who tell me secrets I won’t remember when I wake up

I can push through walls into vast gardens and I can explore the depths of the sea

I can taste death without taking a bite

I can fall and fall and never break

I can be surrounded by darkness and still see

And I can visit those I’ve lost in the world I wander around when I’m awake

When I close my eyes and let my subconscious take over my entire body I’m at my most vulnerable

People say your mind can be your own worst enemy

All I know is that my mind could create an entire galaxy of possibilities

My mind can create monsters that not even the angels have faced

I am me but my mind is it’s own

It chooses what I see when I’m in the world where no else one can go

And that, is the best feeling there is

Having to let go, having to see your greatest fears and your greatest indulgences and not have to tell a single soul about it

God, I love that feeling like I feel when I’m asleep

And the whole time you’re lying next to me, in your own world, in your own lifetime

Would I still love you if I saw your world?

Would you still love me?

I don’t think you would

Because if others were meant to see us in our purest rawest most fucked up form, no one would love each other, and the shame of it all would consume us

And that’s why there is no feeling like being asleep

No feeling like being by yourself in your mind, conquering the demons who haunt you when you’re awake


She was bleeding but her blood wasn’t red and her skin hadn’t broken.

She was screaming but there was no noise and her mouth wasn’t open.

She was crying but there were no tears and a smile was on her lips.

She was sad but she wasn’t allowed to be because she had a home and a family and a bank account.

She was laughing and it wasn’t genuine but we still laughed along with her.

She was talking about jumping from the sky but we told her not to joke about such things.

She was singing but her body wouldn’t dance.

She was begging for help but apparently it was a dramatic plea for attention and she shouldn’t act like a child.

She was told that she was loved and her heart beat for the first time in years.

She was told that she was a light that couldn’t be distinguished by the black clouds in this world.

She was a sad girl, but she fought it, even though death wasn’t an escape and happiness wasn’t an option.

She was strength, and beauty, and had the mind of a poet.

She was a beautifully stained soul and I carried her through the days when she thought she couldn’t take another step.

She was a part of my life even though she is just a reflection and no one else knows she exists.

She was me and I learned to love her even though she was the part that wanted to give up.

The Problem

She lived for peace, but would die for beauty, that was the problem…

Red lipstick only stains the party drinks and the mascara only runs down her cheeks when she’s alone.

High heels only made her feet swell and tight dresses only made her eat less.

That was the problem.

She lived for love but couldn’t love herself.

Lying between sweaty sheets from the drugs that made her look tough.

Lying to herself about the alcohol burning her throat and the hands trailing up her dress.

She lived for hope, but couldn’t shake the feeling of the empty space between her rib cage.

That was the problem.

She couldn’t live a life being happy with herself.

Her very being wasn’t enough to keep her standing tall, wasn’t enough to ground her to this world where beauty and pain are one in the same.

She stood in front of him, naked horripilated skin exposed, blood pounding through her veins and not one ounce of confidence.

She lived for him and he walked away.

And that was the problem.