My future seemed bright but the light is fading. My love seemed caught but it seems to be escaping. My thoughts were aligned but have been tossed up like a bad game of scrabble. Things that were once solid leave and die and get lost in the rabble. Eating used to be too easy, but now it makes me nervous. Maybe if I go to sleep for a while I'll be doing everyone good service. All I really need is a good friend, or a few. But silence is stability and you can't have the two. I keep getting lost in thought but the words I write are stained. Writing was my savior but now it seems so strained.

if embers burn then you are a forest fire beaconing life into your arms only to destroy the fibers of all that lives in a three-hundred-and-sixty degree circle around your gleaming smile. everything around you turns to dust but the air smells bittersweet and death doesn't seem like much of a defeat. if the ocean breeze reminds me of home than the scent of vanilla and mint take me to the place where i belong. i can't count how many days i've longed for you to take me from hell but it turns out that pretty face doesn't have a soft embrace- as if you didn't already know damn well.

Today I learned that

scientists lie like threadbare

rugs hoping for fame and

fortune

Swindled money from

families with dead kids and

promised clones with the same

eyes and mind and soul

Made off into the sunset with

vows unfulfilled

artfully skilled

in deception by using the

cover of their profession

Never punished nor reprimanded

high on the hog of mothers’ hopes

and dreams slaughtered

and bled

with a bowie knife

The promise of everlasting life

immortality from test tubes and

a DNA splice

I think about

a time when people would go

to mass

sit their ass down on

a hard pew listen to this

guy spew about how he

could save their eternal soul

for just 9.99 or so

for their sinful Indulgences

and when you get right down

to it whether the robe’s a lab

coat or a papal regalia

I guess it’s the same thing

really.

If home is where the heart is, then I'm fucking lost. And I can't say your name without out my blood as the cost. If I cry myself to sleep just right, I'll see you in my dreams. But as long as I'm alive, you always seem to leave. My pillows catch my tears like a rag, but dream catcher must have a snag, because all I get are nightmares. I'll ring out my pillow case and try to dream again. The land of milk and cookies taste a lot like gin. I'll drown myself in whiskey, and just pray to God you miss me.

It's not fair for you to walk away a when you know I've been through everything with you but I guess it's not fair of me either to treat you like you owe me when you really don't. I keep forgetting you are who you are and I am who I am and we aren't little kids that can sing along to a Disney movie soundtrack and get along anymore. It sucks to grow up but I guess it's also relieving because sometimes I worried I might never get a chance to see the world because I was too busy worrying about things that didn't matter. But I'm older now and I know that there's more to life then playing barbies, which sucks, until you realize you can do whatever you want with your own life just like you can with Barbie's.

He's the smile in my heart.

Without him Id truly be lost.

He runs to me when I'm feeling sad and afraid.

He rarely gets mad at me...unless I am leaving and he is forced to be alone.

He whimpers when it's time to eat, like a grumpy little kid.

He gives me sloppy wet kisses to show me he loves me deeply.

I look into his eyes and see pure innocence.

He knows no evil and loves unconditionally.

I can tell him anything and I am 100% sure he will never repeat what I've said.

He never does wrong..besides when he poops on the floor or rips stuff into pieces! Haha

The first thing that I heard was the scratching coming from somewhere above me, the sound cutting through the darkness like the blade of a freshly sharpened knife. I couldn’t be sure where I was or how I’d come to find myself there, but I was alive. That seemed like a positive even given my predicament, trapped like a rat somewhere the light couldn’t penetrate. I reached forward, my hands meeting the wooden walls that surrounded me. It smelled of must, the air was damp and unyielding. There seemed to be dust all around me and if the light could touch the air I was breathing, I was sure it would reveal motes of the stuff floating around me and trying to fill my lungs.

I had to find a way out, or I would certainly die. If only I could tell whether the sounds above me came from friend or foe, I would know where to start.

I tried this free-thought-writing-thing once, on a blank receipt roll with a red-inked sharpie, and found it most remarkable the way the ink bled through, and changed the inside of each character into a silver hue; as viewed from the backside. So I kept on writing and writing, in a language I made-up when attending Bayside High, after I’d been institutionalized when my words were taken out of context. Never again. I vowed my thoughts would be kept in made-up symbol’s confidence, and never again taken out of context -lest I wish it. Sometimes it’s fun to leave things open-ended.

- M.E.

201505102114

Bee buzzing in my ear. What is that you hear? He loves me it is so clear so many dungeons and caverns I have crossed. Curses I have tossed over my shoulder. Watch me sit and ponder on the boulder of steel. What do men want? To steal the things most precious?

Games of rhyme and deceptive hearts of yours and mine. Craving some illusive thing Devine. Always searching never reaching potential. Never accepting the consequential revolution with deeds or actions. Forgetting the law of attraction. We falter for half a fraction of what we really deserve. Riding on every nerve instead of the wave of joy.

I hate the fact that I don't love myself.

I hate that whenever I look in the mirror and feel pretty, I see someone better looking than me.

I hate when fit people say they are fat. If they think they are fat, then I must be some sort of new kind of hypos.

I hate when people - normally beautiful people - tell me that I should talk to my crush when they don't understand that boys look at me as if I were a potato or maybe an alien.

But most importantly, I hate that I can't stop caring about what people say about me when I know I should only make myself happy.