glass-orquestra

it's hard to shake this tightness in my chest and the half thought out thoughts ooze out of every dark corner of my mind and I know there's one way to turn it all off but my guts are in knots and they can't help me pull the trigger

you're ten stories high, looking down i'm six feet under clawing my way up

vanity is a commodity i don't have time for anymore

you were my sun; my world revolved around you, every thought and dream but it's overcast and you were just a reflection- a waste of my time

you tear away your flesh hand me your heart, and show me your skeleton and the cynic i am questions if you went deep enough

sometimes i put my headphones in and i pretend                                                        (but i'm sick of imagining) that it's you; your voice in my ear                                                        (oh god, i miss your voice) and i wish on every last goddamned shooting star that you could be here            

it's amazing how you can make my heart leap up into my throat so even if i wanted to profess just how much i love you, i can't

yesterday there was no point in feeling hopeful or cheery because nothing good ever came out of false confidence today you made me feel different happy, almost like i was witty and attractive tomorrow you probably won't message back and i'll go back to the rainy day mood with constant frowns and cloudy thoughts

my uncalloused fingers sting after playing chords to our love song my tear filled eyes burn after singing the words to our break up song while my aching heart breaks while playing back every memory of us my shut down mind numbs as i hear her sing the words to your new love song

glazed over eyes and words that taste like honey but seep venom the melody transposed into a minor key with discord ringing against my already too-full ears when we star gaze i always pay more attention to the heaven before me rather than the one above so you steal all the shooting stars leaving me here pointing out constellations to the long gone you

these days your name has been slipping in and out of my rib cage and sometimes, my heart forgets to beat. it's funny, i suppose— how even after all these months i still don't want to believe that you're dead. how during the first couple of weeks i prayed to a god i didn't believe in and begged to know if death tasted sweet to you. how once, when the monsters in my head didn't let me sleep, i wrote you three poems and then destroyed four. you were a supernova that lit up my life for a few radiant moments before, like all good things in this filthy world, you came to an end. the sinner in me hopes that you have wings now. but i th

-and I don't think  I'll ever finish  these sentences  for the sake  of your destructive  curiosity  these paper planes  were for my eyes  alone, but you  took what was  never  yours          (you burnt        these cranes       to the ground)  and that  my dear  is a story  best left  forgotten-

Yesterday my mother asked me what I would name my children and I told her that I did not want any. She scoffed at me and shook her head, insisting that once I found the "perfect man" all of that would change. And I thought back to all the times when my palms sweated and my throat ran dry and my cheeks heated up just because a girl walked by whose lips were so pretty and pink that all I wanted to do was taste them. "No," I replied, swallowing the acid that was threatening to crawl out of my mouth, "it will take a lot more than that to convince me." Because despite the fact that the mere thought of a man with arms that could carry the we

i met you on december 21st, the longest night of the year. you had solstice eyes: cold, dark, alluring. i knew you were not meant to last, powerful as a gale but fragile as the tulip stems you snapped, a sickening cycle of you, an overwhelming tidal wave. they say two wrongs will never make a right, but i made so many bad choices that i wound up back where I began. it was too easy to love you, but getting you to love me back was impossible. i clawed at your chest until I struck blood, until my nails split into shards. you were born a phantom, and i, your corpse. holding onto you felt like drowning in quicksand; i fought but always sank int