Inhale, exhale.

I wrote you a letter
with all that I mean.

Ripped in half, torn
in a solid square,
I licked the side and
folded it,
lighting the end and
inhaling.
As the words burnt away,
the blue ink (blue, my favourite...ours) burnt to smoke, charring to poisonous chemicals
and
going back into me. Words
where belong, we,
inside.

Fate

Set my coffin in the ground, breaking the fresh dirt with a smooth, sharp razor. The tomb stone cracks and we laugh, laugh, laugh.
I climb in heartily and make myself comfortable, then pull the lid shut, shut, shut.
Darkness envelopes me, and I start crying a little.
I know I'm losing everything,
but I've lost everything.
As the pitter-pitter-pitter of dirt falling on the roof calms my nerves a little, I realize I'm being buried alive. But it's acceptable, because I'm not alive anyway. I died some time ago, and now things are just plain terrible.
"Rest in peace," a voice says next to me, and I look over to see ChrissCROSSES smiling, his hand on mine.
"Chris," I say. "What are you doing here?"
He laughs a little, wiping the tears from my eyes with his thumb.
"I promised," he said. "I'd never leave you forever."
I smile, my eyes a little red, and my nose stuffy.
"I'm about to die," I laugh. "Chris, I'm dying."
He nods his head, grazing his fingers down my wet cheek. "Then we can be dead together."

There's a pause, and I say, "I'd love that."
And that's it.

Oh, September!

Her body thrown against the side of his,
again and again,
and they
went down
together.

Family love

Something malicious in the water we drink
Something sickly in our salty words
Something vicious in the kitchen sink.
Something dark in the burning firs
Something evil in our every move
Something hurtful in our warm, warm hugs
Something tarnished in the silent groves.
Something evil, we're all on drugs.

Girlies

We all find some escape
that makes the pain worth it.

But the higher you get the harder you fall when what's keeping you up
is gone.

Forget

Settle your skin into the nooks of my body and we can fall asleep together. It's the only time I'll feel safe, and we can dream quietly, listening to each other's breathing.
The room's stuffy, and the air's the same air we've been breathing all night, but it's been through our lungs enough times to sufficiently say we're breathing each other's air.
I'd whisper the words I so want to say, but I don't believe in that.
It's just not true.
It's just...god, I- like you.

Waiting

Lights burn your eyes like acid, acid rain. Stepping from the eye of the storm; from the crazy to insane. It's sad because you just can't see to walk in a straight line, but no one's even watching you so you've got lots of time.
Flashing acid circles and pools in great deep cuts. Stinging in the wounds, it just, just hurts so much.
But no one's even listening to hear your terror-screams, so it doesn't really matter if they told you you were free.
See, but being stuck is something that you know you'll grow to like.
Head between the bars and it's easy to reach the spikes.
And that way you can puncture your skin and get out some of the blood,
and scream and cry and fucking yell when the storm turns into flood.

The water rises over your head and you feel your lungs explode.
It hurts so much you'd rather die, but you've got to follow code.
Being strong is such a task that it takes it's toll on you,
and as you bleed you realize that you know just what to do.

Fucking hilarious

Words crash down around me, forming a lump in my throat, so I can't breathe.
Go upstairs, cuts slash down my legs; I can breathe if I bleed.
But it's not enough, see, to settle my bones so
I take it out on my skin and scars
and see how far it goes.

Knuckle-buster

Eyes peering down through the lightning-bug screen,
that's it, right there.
These words hurt
I crumble.

This is where the skin breaks,
the point where the bones crack,
and bounce back to reality for a mere second
But a second long enough to realize
something's wrong.

Remember

Breaking at the 

Bridges where we

Cross our skin with lines.

Torn up 

Torn to 

Pieces, we put together 

and make rhymes.

Breaking in the 

Places where we

Couldn't find our thoughts.

Loud and things got

Louder 'til we're 

completely terror-wrought. 

Sing your words 

Alone, in a darkened forest 

Night. Things will just 

Get darker, 'til there's 

No such things as light. 

Hiding in the tree-arms

To keep those chills away,

we'll have to sing it louder

if we want to see the day. 

But they don't.know

Criss, criss, criss cross for chris who's not here,
cross, cross,
you never believed in crosses,
criss,
criss,
Chris where did you go?

The art of waiting

The act of waiting isn't hard to master.
Take a drag of smoke, inhale faster.
When no one's even looking, light the bastard.
The act of waiting isn't hard to master.

*Pause*

The act of waiting isn't hard to master.
Crumble on the inside just like plaster.
Wait for your very own disaster.
The act of waiting isn't hard to master.

But what's waiting when the weather's a factor?
What's waiting when the air is nice?
The act of waiting isn't hard to master,
but who wants to wait in freezing ice?

Words of wisdom

Sunglasses on and the world can't see you.
You hide.
Sunglasses off and you're exposed.
You duck back,
settle into the corner and
fix your face a little.

You can't be yourself anymore.
That's just not done now.

Why?

Darkness pools beside me,
Hiding the scars along my thighs,
along my neck,
along my wrists.
I trace the face of the razor along my stomach, thinking.

Thoughts bounce back
to the bad days,
edging up closer and closer until
they're touching my cheek.
I suck in my air,
hold it,
hold it,
and pretend there's no 
hands on my wrists
on my wrists
holding on
and making paper
bruises;
purpleblueblack.

They clench down and trap me,
so I swipe at them with my little
metal friend.
They move up to my leg,
sliding up my thigh
to places
WHERE NO HANDS SHOULD BE.
I dig in deep
and get the poison out
so it's clean cuts
and I'm fine. 


It's not about the cuts
themselves.
It's not about the blood.
It's about the pain that swallows up
the dirt in all the mud.

Which leaves me with clean water
to drink for just a day.
But it won't last forever,
so it becomes a game. 


Today you drink and breathe,
tomorrow, you have a choice.
Leave your legs clean,
or banish that stupid voice.

Sailors

Back and forth and back and forth and back and forth and back and forth and.
The boat's gone mad.
The sails aren't even up.
We're trying to stay low to the decks.
Not get caught by the wind.
There's salty air in our noses and lungs.
Vulture-bird cries sounding off the sea.
Pools of blood from where we fell, thrown against the ground and sides of our wooden ship.
But our faces stay rock-solid and sure,
that this is what we want to do with our lives.

We're sailors.
Sail the seven seas and surpass storms.
We are Strong.