I bleed ink

Page 2 of 4

I think about him sometimes. Like he haunts the deepest parts of my mind. Waiting for his chance to remind me of the broken girl he left behind.

Third Person Plural

They say I’m only happy when I’m high

they say I’m always falling for the wrong guy

they don’t know that what they say

makes me cry

they don’t know that the drugs

are the only thing that gets me by

they don’t know I lay in bed each night

in a living hell

no way to break away

no way to break the spell

they comment but they don’t understand

who I am is not who I planned

they look but they don’t see

the scars buried deep inside me

yeah, they say I’m only happy when I’m high

but they don’t know how fucking hard I try

The Girl in the Mirror

I saw a ghost today. I’ve seen them here before. Sometimes they haunt my dreams, but today it was real.

     She looked a broken, sad you might say. Like she had seen one too many ghosts herself, such an irony.
     The scars on her wrist, told me shed been through hell, most likely more than once. The scars on her back and the scars on her legs told me that most of the scars weren’t her own, rather they were ones others had given her.
      But that wasn’t the saddest part, the saddest part were the scars inside her soul, those told me the saddest tales. Ones of an incomprehendable childhood, one where her wings were clipped and her intellect and free will destroyed with rules and commands a century old. The scars told me stories of trust, of laughter, and of faith. All in a world that teased and taunted her with such things but never let her have it. Trust? It had been broken with lies, cheating, and something so dark and buried so deep, no one truly wanted to know what caused them. Laughter? It had been drown out by the thousands of tears cried alone…in vain. And the faith? The faith was the hardest to understand. Faith in the world. Faith in people. Faith in the future. Faith in herself. All lost in a thousand moments of watching people fail her. People disappoint her. People leave her. Until she understood the only one she could count on was herself. I felt my heart buckle.
     And just as I was about to look away, not able to contain my emotions from the sight of such a damaged and eerily familiar little ghost, I looked into her eyes, and I saw something I cant explain. It stopped my breathing, and I’m almost sure my already buckled heart skipped a beat or two. Because as I stared into her eyes, despite her broken heart, her broken trust, her broken beliefs, and her broken mind, her eyes told a different story, one that I wanted to hear, a story of a part of her that wasn’t broken…her spirit.

I think sometimes life isn’t about the big moments, it’s about all the little ones that combine together to create a beautiful, wonderful story.


I’m over you. I promise, I despise you…or something of that nature.  I don’t want to be yours… I’m not lying.  Pretty sure you love someone else so I’m no longer trying to see why you gave up on us. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt your arms, your love, your smile, and I swear I’m truly over it. I’ll waste no more time,  crying out my eyes. I think I’ve paid the price of trusting. and yes maybe when you walked by just then and gave me that slight smile, I flashed… I felt your lips on mine, all over again… And I realized the truth, probably a fact of life,  no matter who you love, or even I ,  there will always be a part of us that will love each other till we die.

Temporarily Escaping

I take a deep breath and then exhale

The smoke burns as it exists my lungs

My mind starts to swirl and my eye start to close

as I fight off all these emotions

my hand is still shaking

as I lift to my lips

the red ended escape from existence

and I take another deep breath and then exhale

as the smoke leaves its gift in my blood,

now my minds real distracted,

my eyes still glued closed

the emotions eating me whole

I drop my escape,

put it out with my foot

and then exhale and open my eyes.

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