{maybe if i fall asleep i won't breathe right}

maybe there is no me.

and no you.

and no us.

but there is space camp.

and i am space camp.

and you are space camp.

and yes love; we could be space camp.

they threw bricks, and bricks.

and more bricks.

and those bricks hit me so hard.

and i woke up

coughing up all my dreams;

the ones coated in blood and disappointment and hysteria.

the ones that don't have any pictures.

i tried to paint them

but they didn't seem real enough.

and my tears smeared and made the ink bleed and wrinkled the paper;

and it was kind of beautiful.

and my bones told me to shut up and stop thinking so much

and then i started to live.

breathing wasn't so bad anymore.

"just follow me," you'd say.

(in. out. in. out.)

and things got easier.

or maybe i just stopped caring so much.

and i was happy you know...

the smile wasn't glued and my heart was red. (a good kind of red)

the ink from our pen moved mountains and the universe expanded 

ever. so. slightly.

we painted photographs of the future and erased the definition of "beautiful" and "perfect".

we traveled through time and space 

and left little pieces of us where we went so everyone would see.

we are the art that people talk about and take pictures of. 

the tourists just passing through our story.

"it's okay i don't mind, i've got you." you told me as 

they mechanically walked back and forth and back and forth and back and forth... 

and we fell in love over and over and over again.

"i'm going to space camp," i said to you last night.

and you laughed a little as you kissed me.

"we're already there" you whispered.

and i smiled because i knew.

the death of my beautiful bones.

My bones told me I was different.

They said, "stop. just stop trying to be like everyone else. it's never going to happen."

It was like when I told perfection to go die, because it's not real.

But my bones told me they were beautiful.

And that while I had been searching for God,
He saw my bones and smiled.

The day I was sexually abused (and by days I really mean two years), my five-year-old bones cried and said that things would never be the same.

They said the scar he left hurt them, and it wasn't ever going to go away.

And God looked at his bones, and my bones.

He made it rain in my soul and got my bones all wet, and I fell in love.

With the silence of beauty and the beauty of silence.

And God let me live.

My bones, the ones deep inside my soul...they told me to love you. and love you. and never stop loving you.

But my bones are shaking in the cold love you gave me.

And the coffee and blood...they don't help.

My bones told me how much it hurt when you carved in your name.

My bones said to paint the sky red.

Red with the pain that you sold me, and it wasn't cheap either.

They told me I'd always be alone, and I guess I was okay with that.
It was easier you know...

But my bones still loved you.

The sound of your secrets and how your fingertips wiped the tears from my heart.

They said being in the dark was supposed to scare me, but all I did was close my eyes and breathe in the moon.

They told me my heart would be okay.

But my bones still bled your name in my dreams.

They told me that sunsets at midnight were real, and so was my heartbeat.

But my bones still bled your name while I slept.

"Keep dreaming, and breathing, and loving", they'd sing.

And my bones,they tried to make death real.

Tried to break and burn and bleed so I'd know what it felt like...

But they told me that I could never make dying beautiful.

nobody knows.

  

and i suppose that's okay.

SCARED as H E L L .

I'm scared of this.

 

I swallow my heart as the fear sinks into my soul. Slithering through my veins and tickling my insides. (deep breaths, deep breaths.) ....so many fears. They're hiding in my rib cage, and shaking my bones. But they're starting to slowly slip out...stinging and burning.

(inhale. exhale.)

 

I'm scared of me.

I'm scared of my reflection.

I'm scared of the scars that drip from my fingers telling stories that no one should ever hear...

I'm scared of the burning hole in the floor where my heart fell.

I'm scared to pick up my heart and see the imperfections.

I'm scared of beautiful things, and beautiful people.

I'm scared of letting go.

I'm scared of walking away, because I don't know what will happen when I'm gone.

I'm scared of my eyes, and having you look at them, in them...

Then you'd see my soul, how dark and dying it is.

But then maybe you'd start loving me.

Just maybe...

I'm scared that you stole my soul when you kissed me.

And that you won't ever kiss me again.

I'm scared of the rainstorms inside myself.

That make my mind wet and drippy.

I'm scared to admit that the butterflies went missing(I think they died).

And I didn't go looking for them.

I'm scared that the reason I'm shivering cold is because

I-I love-I love you with every fiber of my being and deep in my bones.

I love you.

I love you.

I love you.

I'm scared of being warm, because that would mean it's all gone.

The love, the pain, and you.

You'd be gone.

But I'm scared of you.

Of loving you.

I'm scared that you'll be the only one that ever made me feel. Even if I did have to bleed and bruise a little to get there.

I'm scared of my heart.

And I'm scared of looking, because I might see something beautiful.

I'm scared to look at your flaws,
because I'll fall in love all over again.

And I'm scared that my heart is trying to push you away; to forget you. But my bones won't let it...

I'm scared as Hell.