like any artist with no art form

i wish she'd say the right words.

sometimes you just wanna hear what'll make you feel better.

goodbye.

There is something beautiful about broken glass and the tiny visions it creates. For instance, the glass from that shattered beer bottle told me there was a twenty-dollar bill hidden in the center of an ant pile. I buried my arms elbow-deep in the ants but all I found was a note that said Some people will believe in anything. And I laughed.

I’m okay.

Whole worlds take place in my head while you sleep beside me. The earth heaves, sighs, shudders. Its oceans make waves, silent, deadly. The soil bleeds.
And you sleep.



Waiting for an answer, knowing it won’t come. or that it’s already there.

new eyes.
i am tired. i walk down hallways and everything is a blur closing in on me and i feel sick.



when will i be done.

what's the difference between pushing bad thoughts out of your mind, and avoidance?

someone tell me please.

i'm going to start writing letters to myself. maybe i'll be more honest.

this feeling keeps building up inside of me, like heat, like pressure, like hurt. and i have to breathe in deep, tell it to stop.

i just want to be okay.



i know this is my thing, but do i really have to be alone?
when you are a danger to self or others.

I feel like I'm finally in control of my emotions,
but really I feel like I'm hiding from them, ignoring them, trying to make them go away.

The thing is, I'm afraid. Afraid that if I think too long, too hard, too deeply about anything, it'll be too much. I won't be able to take it.

And I don't want to be in that place again.

I have this urge to purge parts of my life... people, things, parts of me. Which is problematic; I always do this.

I don't write anymore. I feel like I can't. There's no inspiration, no connection, it's just... there.

I feel like I can't have all of these parts at once.

my heart keeps breaking over and over again.
it's not made for this.

i'm constantly disappointed with a world that doesn't surprise me.

so in this show called charmed there are these people who are whitelighters and they are able to heal and feel and one time this girl temporarily became a whitelighter and she was able to feel but all she felt was the pain of the world and she couldn't control it and she couldn't take it and sometimes

i feel like i'll forget that it's worth it.

am i being stupid?

i feel like i'm going to get hurt and i don't want to get hurt but i can't stop it.

my heart hurts a little bit and i can't help but think that
this is a bad sign.

like that lump in my chest. like i thought "well maybe i'm being stupid, paranoid" and so i did nothing and so what if this is like that, but.
the lump went away. so it was okay.

last time.

it feels like my life is a sequence of events of which my existence has no effect. like i'm an outsider, looking in.

i want to connect.
or maybe i don't. maybe i just want somebody outside with me.

when you hold everything in
it feels like

no one knows you

and this is when it becomes a problem. because when the select few people you've chosen to keep around aren't there, you're fucked. you're alone.

i can't take this anymore.
if i could leave i would.
all i have left is my head.

people always leave people are never there. and i know not to listen to my head, but.

i need you and i don't know when i stopped knowing how to say these things.

sometimes i look at the ceiling and hope that when i look back down i'll be gone.

i want to start over.

i found old journals, old me's.

she says i'm just lost. but it's not just just but maybe i am. because i don't know what to make of all this past. this past that was once so real, that fades. until later you don't know what you were thinking, can't recognize the person who wrote it. but it's your handwriting so it had to be you.

and here you are again, so ( it had to be you. )

and you. you're inconsistent, unaccountable for one moment to the next, so how can you know if this is real if this will stay if this will last? and so maybe you are lost. because you've changed so much but maybe you haven't changed at all. and all you need is someone to tell you that this is real, that this is real.