Severed-Bond

a few excessive kilograms adorn my body, stubborn in their departure: like an uninvited guest too dense to perceive the subtle hints i leave on my skin; not feeling as blessed as i could have been if i were thin. if i am too much then why do i feel like i am not enough for the starved society that eats away at my insides & feeds me empty, palatable lies, (a fabricated portrayal of reality's demise) leaving me wishing that each bittersweet tear i cry is enough to rid my body, my healthy home, of excess salt all through my eyes; not realising that the number beneath my feet does little to measure each person who feeds off of my kindness, my

I want to kiss every aching wound you have, bandage your heart every time it bleeds, and patch up your mind over and over because not a single tear deserves to fall from your brandy-drenched eyes; This dripping heart of mine can only feel, and the healing honey words it flames get caught in the back of my throat and on the roof of my mouth, so I only have these passionate guttural cries to tell you that I care all too much. In order to fix you up again, I would need to tear myself to tatters and trade all of my working parts for your leftover, fading pieces but I just haven’t figured out how.

one.     When she cries herself to sleep     six out of seven nights a week you must     say nothing. You must simply take     her in your arms and kiss her gaunt,     pale cheeks and wait for her to     slumber at the sound of your heart. two.     On the days where she wishes she     were part of the stars, tell her     no. Tell her that there are too many     lights in the sky and that just one     would be forgotten the moment you looked     away from it. Tell her that she is perfect     the way she is: completely human. three.      Don't let her think about the scars      that no one but her can see. If she      says

You grinned, sitting on the counter and taking a sip of your hot chocolate. You were in your apartment, usually at this time of day you'd be rushing at top speed to work. But Tony had convinced your boss to give you the day off. Of course by convince you meant threaten. It was St. Patrick's day and you were put in charge of planning a party at the Stark tower. You were brought out of your thoughts when Your boyfriend Loki stormed through the front door and angrily sat on the couch. The two of you had been secretly dating and he regularly visited you, while also making sure the others didn't suspect anything. You raised an eyebrow and cleared

You told me “friends forever”, More like ‘friends for now’, As your sweet promises Were just lies I allowed. You said “we are best friends”, More like ‘friends at best’, As your solid affirmations Were all digressed. You told me “I need you” More like ‘you need me’ As your statements Were my last plea. Why did you go? Why did you leave? I’m left here all alone Trying, in us, to believe.

forgive these rorschach nerves & mercury veins - i am no tragedy boy, but i have self-decay down to an art. this tar tongue only starts marlboro conversations & self-ignition; i only start fires.

psychology defines schizophrenia as an impairing, delusional disorder borne in the person’s inexorable inability to tell right from wrong, hopeless fantasy from harsh reality, or even suspicion from acceptance but aspen is a lovely, flexible woman with names of imperial animal races that never belonged to them, with the countless colors of her eyes that she makes up with named numbers written in cursive sharpie on her palms she takes pills that seem to dampen & take away those charming things she always says to me; the voices don’t haunt or tease her, they’ve always respected the way she counted with willpower & the way sh

Don't pity me   Don’t pity me. When you see that I am blind. But pity those who can see with their eyes, Pity those who are blind to their surrounding, their path, Their future, their present, their past, They are blinded by lies. Pity them. Don’t pity me. When you hear that I am deaf. But pity those who can hear with their ears, Pity those who cannot hear Mother Nature’s song, Their words, their story, their poem. They are deafened by their fears. Pity them. Don’t pity me. When you walk to my wheelchair, But pity those who are free to walk the world will not, Pity those who are planted on the dark ro

She wakes up with red staining her pillow and the taste of blood like iron in her mouth It stains her teeth and leaks from her lips, and as she rinses her mouth out, she can’t help thinking that it’s better than dirt and ashes it feels like she’s wearing a noose of broken promises and shattered glass that tightens around her throat with every day that passes She nails a smile to her face and doesn't let herself think the word  dying

I am single, but I am loved. I am not a genius, but I am intelligent. I am not breathtaking, but I have beauty. I am not a saint, but I am kind. To the world, I am not perfect. But for someone, I am.