wings on my over flowing pen

4:42 am

If I perish away today Know that I have embarked To find peace God and I have an agreement: I'll find my way when He finds me Don't you worry Don't you cry The scars are fading Still Look to the heavens For my eyes- In the stars, they Wilt

Quantify the unreachable and bring sobriety to it's knees. Drown in poisons that unleash your tongue - You weren't created to speak beautifully, but truthfully. Don't be a fool to think damage is irreversible: Broken bones, broken hearts, broken dreams... In the lesson of Time, once you feel pain it has already begun healing. Tap your foot to the beat of your heart until you paralyze the thoughts that block your view of reality. You weren't born for the world, The world was born for you.

Be mine Flowers bloom in the nighttime With you Invisible tears leave the darkest Scars on your heart Golden hands could protect you From the fall Don't fall Don't die Be mine Wolves crying under sunlight What a beautiful paradox Friends but more Feelings are contained not poured We make whores bored Let's fall I only call to you I found my glasses There's no lens to clear this fog, Be mine Come and lie in the future With me, the present is too unclear Let's make no sense I wish I could climb this fence You do something: acquaint devils and angels I don't like listening I forgot who to listen to I always listen to you Be mine I thought I lost what I never had And I found it again What a starry night It's beautiful and we never fight Be mine

I asked God why I feel so empty, He told me, "drink water until you are full". So I asked God if he would make the world less cold, He said, "bring your grandmother a blanket, she is shivering". I asked God why it takes so long for the soul to heal, And He told me, "because it took so long to break you down". Finally I asked God for peace, He replied, "ask your mother if she is alright, and then tell her you love her".


“When you’re not sure if you want to cry or scream, but do neither not to wake anyone up I will be there to hold you. I know life has swung at you and, like the steel bat it is, left blue and black marks inside your chest. I know your heart hurts at 3 AM because you’re not asleep, but you’re not awake, and I miss you during that time because you are far away. If I could hold you at 4 AM when you’ve made it through the night but are afraid to welcome the morning, I would never leave. I know all of your secrets, even the ones you keep from yourself. I know you keep quiet, not to hurt others…even the ones that have left scars on you in the form of tears that fall regularly. I know all about how you take short showers because long ones, along with long baths, remind you of a simpler time. I know that you arrive 25 minutes early to every destination because being late by just one will result in three episodes of frenzy and a finale of grief stricken panic. I know how you like the smell of cigarettes but never want to smoke and you used to love basketball but it interests you no more. I just crave a way to make everything okay for you because not being comfortable in your own home is absurd. (When you tell me “home” I know that you are referring to yourself). And when you shake violently I want to hold you as an affirmation that I understand you have driven yourself sick with worry. I promise I won’t be like everyone else telling you that your worries are petty because you will close yourself off and you know how your quietness scares me. Look, I know how intelligent you are and how your worries have kept you from ample opportunities but they will come again, I promise. I know how they misinterpret your kindness for weakness - then they either love you or hate you. If I could shelter your brain I would do so by helping you understand that the activities of your brain do not define who you are… I know that brain has never had an “off” switch but I want to bring down your heart rate and just slow down your thoughts. I know this world has been quite cruel so far and despite your crazy moods, the laughter you emit is still real. I will find you a reason to rid yourself of that knife you keep in your bedside drawer because you can’t sleep knowing you haven’t some type of defense at hand. I am so sorry that when I tell you that you are safe you reply with “At least I can fight the demons in my sleep”. In case you thought I wouldn’t notice, I know you bought a concealer which is three shades lighter this year because the bags underneath your eyes have become darker with your sleeplessness. I want you to stop assuming that God hates you because you don’t pray every day, and that even He understands when and why you lose faith. I want to tell you that it is okay to feel as though you hate men, because not a single soul besides me understands your loathing and for now they don’t need to know why. And when you feel bad for nights like these I want you to instead welcome the falling tears in open arms because feeling something is better than not feeling anything at all”.

Or the content of my character.

Once.

My soul is so old.

For 16 years my hands have ached Writing pieces of poetry, Writing prose and Finishing stories. Years I have spent leaving people in awe, But my words never leave me alone. Years I have spent correcting my grammar, Fixing my spelling, Setting a standard. My writing cannot be wrong, Surely it cannot be- When i have spent 16 years of my life Writing you into my destiny.

I certainly do not need you.

I am well acquainted with this five am grief- All my demons come out to battle and I see some of your demons On the traces of our mattress, You loved that mattress. That stupid fucking mattress. I'm still not really certain whether I blame my sobriety or Your absence For this sadness

Crush my bones with your 4 AM fears- Tear apart my spine like the demise Of your first love. Let me in; You could not kill me if you tried. Because what is coming Is always better than what is gone.

That is Agony.