9-22-15 two days clean
My hands are always shaky,
My bones jittery,
My mind racing with anxiety.
Don't let them see my wrists, God, get me through this one damn class.
It becomes an obsession,
Hiding what I think.

You think I tell you everything when you see me
Before school?
Or how about the boy who cares way too much to get tangled with this hurricane of mine,
Does he realize that the lights have been out for far too long
And he was never there?
Nobody has been here.
It's too late.
My soul is slowly decaying.

Simple tasks become "I hope I don't accidentally show them my wrists".
My mind composes thoughts that I can't handle,
And it'd scare most people to hear what runs through
The empty, rain soaked streets of my mind.
And I keep driving even though the gas tank is empty,
I don't run on gasoline,
I run on feeling
And sometimes to get it,
I have to make my body a canvas of the color red.

I write every thought down
So even though I'm dead,
My demons have a nice place to be in.
I mean,
After all, they stay with me through everything..
- (m.m)

"And who was there when the fucking lights went out?" - (m.m)
Anyone remember that one line poem? Yeah I love it.