“When you are starved for a moment of relief, you’ll eat their poison by the mouth full, no questions until the digestion leads to new problems.”

Speak to me again, so I’m writing another poem i’ll never send.

I’d rather suffer in silence than be subjected to deafening stares. I feel like I’m in an abusive relationship with my body, no one can see the bruises.

Don’t you know that shedding your pain only makes it reverberate.

On my worst days my brain tries to trick me into wishing i stayed. Its really trying to convince me that i didn’t deserve to survive.

I’m actually great at being alone. It was being abandoned that was hard.

Am i meant to untangle the knots in my own muscles? Do they think its as simple as a few tangles in my own hair?

If we found out tomorrow that oxygen was poisonous I would try to spend forever in your exhales.

I want to find my soul rather than lose it.

There are days I want to pretend you are just a call away.

I can scream into every passing storm cloud, but that will not bring you back. I can yell at god as i sob over crinkled pictures, but all i can grasp are memories.

I knew i was losing you, But when you tossed me into the mail box it finally hit me- I was losing me.

The burns didn’t hurt this badly when we were on fire.

I know I could be a petty queen, I could release all the receipts the way you treated me. But honey I’m happier living in peace than cruelty.

The very act of surviving in a world that does nothing but reject you is an act of revolution.

It has been years now and you still remain, blood stains splattered across my brain. Its not that you were the first woman that I loved, you were the first person I memorized properly.

I screamed and cried but only because i wanted to make this right. Instead, I sat alone, shivering watching the evening turn into night.

Let all the poisons that lurk in the mud, Hatch out.

Let all the poison that lurks in the mud, hatch out.

The javelin-snake amphiptere hurls itself from the branches of trees.

To rankling poison hast thou turned in me the milk of human kindness.

One drop of hatred left in the cup of joy turns the most blissful draught into poison.

There are evil spirits who suddenly fix their abode in man’s unguarded breast, causing us to commit devilish deeds, and then, hurrying back to their native hell, leave behind the stings of remorse in the poisoned bosom.

What we call National-Socialism is the poisonous perversion of ideas which have a long history in German intellectual life.

The world is poisoned with erroneous theories, and needs to be taught sane doctrines, but it is difficult to straighten what has become crooked.