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unlovenot all self harm comes 
in the obvious form of lines up arms or down thighs
of throwing up insides and self worth
into toilet bowls with the sounds
that make you wonder how you're not dead.
she picked at her lips constantly 
cracking and splitting
peeling and bleeding
it stung
more than expected
and it bled
more than ever anticipated
even after she's been doing it all day
she drank her tea that was still steaming
still made her hands flinch from the 
far too hot porceline 
but she parted lips
and felt it force it way down
burning and splitting
her lips and throat
before settling
like molten in her
ash filled stomach
tiny fingers 
pinching, squeezing
pulling on skin
making underneath it
burst
and bloom
her blood like water colour
exploding and spreading
and mixing over
thighs and stomachs
no-one thinks to notice
the bruises
they're accidental
right?
003its easier to say
"i'm fine, just tired"
than explain the water rising
when really they just asked out of politeness
and don't -actually- care.
32you were gone before it even sank in that you were really there.
habit is the worst thing, cause it made me so blind to the fact that you could
just as easily be snatched away from me.
i should have hugged you at least four more times
i've spent the better half of a year being your definition of evil and insane
at the same time. i've known better than everything i've done, but done it
anyway. god knows i've repeated the same tedious/dangerous/stupid
actions over and over wanting/expecting different results.
you wouldn't be proud of me for anything anymore.
but i'm still mad at you, i'm sure of it. if you waded through the
rising tides, or peeled away my blue like old house paint, you'd find something
that screams how you broke everything inside me. and how you were one single event
that taught me that just cause something ends, that doesn't mean its over.
and that i will waste every single change given to me.
the only thing you ever told me that i listened to, was to rest occasionally.
11.the internal oceans are more threatening
come winter
it makes them cold
and leaves her shaking
right to her core

its okay in summer
they're warm
and golden

but the icy blues
and stark whites
leave her shaken
and vulnerable

and scared you'll
slip back inside
trying to warm
but really only intending
to break
and burn
don't go if you've got more to sayand last night i saw you, the real you
the you that i had buried under layers and layers of
blues and greens
from trying to find something
that was almost you
but not quite.
and i didn't cry
i didn't shatter into a million stupid pieces
i froze
like you were a car with high beams
and i was a scared little deer.
cause i hadn't seen past this you i made up
for so fucking long.
but i remembered
that you didn't catch my attention at first.
but when you did.
my god
i couldn't look away.
and i wish i had have stayed
with my eyes closed.
cause i was so proud of myself
for tearing my heart
away from you
and out of underneath your skin
or between your fingers
human hibernation.
i wish i could say it rained the day we gave you back to the earth, that even the heavens were crying for you. it didn't though. it was 28 degrees and our black coats of grief were heavy in so many ways. it felt unfair, and i wasn't ready to let you go just yet, if i could have put myself in the wretched box i would have in a heartbeat. the cliches were in full force that day, and i didn't care for a minute. all i knew is the earth, or god, or whoever took you from me better be grateful to have you back.

there was something in my stomach that day, a knot, a twist, something that felt wrong and out of place from the second i opened my eyes
pressure.she was cracked in places only she could feel, and where the blood could only be tasted, and not seen.
her lips, fingertips and inside her chest. she learned that there are certain body parts prone to being cut or bruised, and her white laced knees could attest to that. but there comes a time when cutting your leg on the coffee table or pinching your stomach with your belt buckle, isn't an accident anymore. its something more, and you know it is. but you can go so long without ever admitting it to yourself, and even longer for anyone else.
039i spent 3.50 on this coffee from some hole in the wall and its not really doing anything to ease me or wake me up from this shaken state i'm stuck in, but its helping my hands keep still or away from trouble.
you're avoiding. talk.
the barrister put two sugars instead of one, its too sweet, but i'll drink it anyway. look. i haven't gotten anything spilled on me yet.
god dammit, just stop it. you need to tell me what the fuck happened last night. there was blood on your shoes and you jumped out of your skin when i touch you even the smallest amount. where did you go?
just. out. with. some friends.
you are so full of shit you know that. your right fingers tapping. that's your tell.
well done. i'm still not telling you, cause its not your business.
calamity.the poor boy got a lecture from deaths secretary
"deaths busy enough as it is without walk ins"
"but it was urgent," he stutters.
"it couldn't wait, it was now or never"
he was simply told
"take a number, and wait over there with the rest
who 'couldn't wait' "
stuck to the back of my throat.yesterday i saw you in cracks of my staircase
and inbetween the pages of my class novel.
you look like hell, and i thought the
darkened circles under your eyes
resembled the colour i think my
love for you would probably be.
its saddening that the thick oxygenated
purple and red mix is kind of like
what i saw once one one
of those anti smoking commercials
spilling forth from a dissected lung.
thats what you are.
you're my personal cancer.
cheap whisky.instead of exchanging numbers
we exchanged horror stories
and compared our
drunken scars

[yours down your side
mine up my arms]

when i looked at you from a distance
i thought maybe you could
cut me open with
your cheekbones

[but you never were
so merciful]

and your eyes were as empty
as the bottles that we
clutched to gain the silver
that traced our bodies

[but the rest of you was full
of lossandloveandhateandblackness]

you said that there was lead in my veins
and you brought it to the boil
and i sat there burning
with bugs being drawn to me

[my destruction was more beautiful
than i ever could be]

i remember you hit me
simple math.it was the strangest thing to be complaining about, not liking
feeling -this- human. feeling so fucking vulnerable and exposed, and not
understanding anything that is going on but knowing that its actually
just chemicals that we’ve given names too
too human
too exposed
and far too fucking weak to handle the tidal wave of shitty chemical reactions you
bring with you.
072i ached enough that day
to salt the atlantic ocean
three time over
quietly.i lost track how many times i told you those damned things would kill you. that they would set your insides on fire and burn you alive. or the smoke would seep into your blood and bones and stain you with the faintest taste of lingering death. but god dammit i don't know why i didn't notice it earlier, that was the entire fucking point of the, wasn't it? maybe not in the beginning, but the 5th year in, or after he skipped town and left you speechless each one was a tiny suicide, a quiet, unseen death. each packet held 10 days off your life, maybe more, and they're so much less conspicuous than a gun or a sudden addiction to painkillers.
001   i am a whirlwind of
     bruised knees
       (purple)

     an aching heart
      (dark blue)

     twisted guts
        (red)

          &
  a regret that could
   crumble mountains.
  (green-green-green)
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More from ~ohsparrowsong

i cant stand the shaking.If it's you and me against the world, im okay.

If it's me on my own, I'll bend and bruise but I'll not break

By me against you.

I will not -

Cannot do it.
circling round then finally breaking.i exploded.

let twelve years of unspoken, and bottled up bullshit out
in the space of about thirty seconds.

and i’m sure in my mind it looked like i’d finally sprouted
flowers from all my deep rooted
deep seeded neurosis

but to you i probably looked
sad
and lonely
it was tiny pieces, leading to bigger picture.i. you refused to take your coat off
even indoors
even with the heater on.
ii. you shook constantly
and never noticed.
you had adjusted
to wonky vision.
iii. you haven't really heard anything
i've said in at least a couple hundred days.
iv. your face was red
and you argued invisible points
i think it was so you knew
you could still talk
still think
somewhat straight.
v. i knew it was a lie.
i knew you weren't really okay.
but i didn't want to face anything.
i couldnt face you.
i couldn't face it.
336.does it count as a sign
some grand
NOTICE THIS AND PAY ATTENTION
THE UNIVERSE IS TRYING TO HELP YOU
if its something you put there intentionally
and for this exact reason.
and when does divine intervention
become a fucking coincidence?
the city is my witness.there was a fire, in the pits of her stomach, filling her with warmth that wrapped around bones and flourished on her skin like war paint. it made her fight even when the rain was pouring down on her, like a shower of bullets. it was in there when she was sleeping, making sure that she continued to breath and not let anything take her away from the mission, the war that she was going to win.
she had baggage that was heavy, and she was starting to notice it more and more as the years started to change from a trickle to a hurricane force that was threatening to completely destroy her. oceans rising, the flames licking her ribcage, and bones creaking under weights that just kept growing as each month passed.
the flourishes on her skin were becoming darker and less like trophies and more like tiny deaths that she couldn't shake. there were places that were permanently discoloured, angry and sore. the fire gave way to tangled thoughts and a twisted stomach with a constant sinking feeling, a
10.april 10th.
i have lost this battle.
but oh
i am not losing this
mother fucking war.

this is not the time
or the fucking place
to die.

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February 7
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[x]

waste.

:iconohsparrowsong:

distance is the worst thing ever
and i think
'if these people were closer, everything would
just be so much better'

but then i stop
and remember all the people in my town
who i barely see
and the thought

s
i
n
k
s

to the same place
he sits

he's my bottom
my rock bottom
:iconlearningtobefree:
~learningtobefree Feb 10, 2013  Hobbyist Writer
very relevant.
Reply
:iconstitchpunkz:
~stitchpunkz Feb 8, 2013
*sings* THAT BOY IS A BOTTOM...

Sorry
That was probably inappropriate
Reply
:iconohsparrowsong:
~ohsparrowsong Feb 9, 2013
:heart:
Reply
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