red

and so watch, as my lips shatter into the golden sunset. as my thoughts break, glass falling to the ground, and it’s all fucking over now. so here i am, staring up at the ceiling, just waiting for my mind to shut down.

and so listen, as blood dribbles off my fingers, and my hope melts like a candle in the freezing. cold. winter.

because this. this is the apocalypse; the one we’ve all been waiting for. so take a seat. grab some fucking popcorn. and turn off your heart. and brush away every part of yourself that ever dared to think that things were gonna get better, because they aren’t.

because life is not a disney movie.

and you can’t spend all day in bed, hiding away from the reality.


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you don’t deserve any of this

so self-centred. i can’t believe you’d do this.

so go on. take a bow. and rip your skull to pieces, and drop it on the ground, because i don’t know who convinced you that you matter, but they were wrong. 

your mind is a slippery slope. and it’s time you resigned yourself to the fact that eventually, you’re gonna fall.

because you don’t deserve any of this. so shut up. stop whinging about your problems.

it’s time to go.


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another sad poem

pick yourself up, girl. i’m tired of seeing you like this. just stitch together the gaping black holes in your chest and laugh it all together. because that’s all it takes, i swear. all you really have to do is just fake a smile, and drink green tea, and focus really really hard on getting better.

just lift yourself up, up, and so far above. like me. smile from the top of the sky and see? everything was fine. so don’t come crying to me with another boring piece of sad poetry. you’re bringing down the vibe. you’re kind of acting like a baby.

come on. don’t be this way. just sprinkle rainbows and sunshine on your shoulders, and turn that frown upside down. because this isn’t a mental illness. just another sign, of another person riddled with weakness.

and you know? i really thought you were better than this.


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goodbye

for poetry club

goodbye. to calling it “the plant room.” to inside jokes and cult chants and high school feeling perfect. even though it isn’t.

goodbye. to somehow, for a moment feeling like the child i never got to be. naive and small and innocent, laughing until my stomach hurt over the stupidest shit. to perching contests and piggyback rides, and tu es caca eeboo, or something like that.

goodbye. to magic, and pouring our hearts out on scrap paper, and the giddy rush of finally having friends.

goodbye. even though i can still see the memories, flickering through your eyes. even though i think you’ll always be there, carved out into my chest.

goodbye. because even after everything you gave me, i think i’m ready to let go. i think it’s time to fly. and i know you’ll always be there buried deep, down inside.


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january 23rd, 2020

charcoal lungs, burning me up from the outside in, or some shit like that, i don’t know.  on days like this, i’m kind of an idiot.

so plant your thoughts in my head. place your words in my mouth and water them from seedlings to trees.  god, this is so embarrassing. i’m sorry this is just a classic case of the angsty teen. and i’m sorry i thought you might care about it.

might extract some kind of entertainment, from watching hands catch fire as i reach desperately for the sky, just trying to push myself through. just trying to make it out alive.

because it has to end someday… if i can just make it out alive… 

then that’s all i can really ask for. right?


It’s late, I have school tomorrow and absolutely no idea where this came from–but hopefully it kind of resonates with you.

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