A collection? Concluded.

A letter I can't send.

i felt my anger swelling; i swam into its sea. / pillowbook / complete

She smiles my smile, wears my clothes, drinks my coffee. She is mine.

COMPLETE! My most intense and personal writing. Moving through pain to a place where life seems valuable again. Poems about loved ones, loss, mental illness, and eventually, at least a little bit of recovery. Warning for self-harm and food issues. Reviews returned.

a feeling of wanting to be someone else, or at least to have the words to explain what you are going through to someone else. warning for eating disorder content. reviews returned.

Dead Light From Extraordinary Stars

a pillowbook, if you will, but really not as cool.

I'm cold, and I'm bored, and I like the smell of fire.

Too personal for your taste.

life's a song and i just mouth the words. pillowbook.

gentle moments and their violent ends.

we could be amazing.

This is to be expected.

Active search for poetic expression. Concluded

A poetic biography/account of a girl with an eating disorder.

I am not mad. I am not.

I want to climb into the lap of my rapist father. Novella. Complete.

I realized that love has other names. Like help me. I looked in the mirror and said, "I can help you."

poem 420.

This Garden of Earthly Decay

and didn't burn. pillowbook,

If you don't like it, why read it? If my attitude puts you off, go away. I don't really care. This is me, and that's all you need to know.

zephyr hands

buried in water

no pain, no gain.

old things that were and new things that may be. a pillow book, but more rhythmic.

what do you do with a girl who refuses to be alive? Pillow book.

zombies. bad romance. and the cast of emo squids disguised as plant dinosaurs. yeah. 'pillowbooks', perhaps. slash collection things. a reason. through winters. perhaps the most awkward thing you'll ever stumble upon. includes an actual zombie love poem.

so often she trembles trembles trembles under my fingertips

Just Ideas and things floating around in my mind, finally put out their. This is me.

Pillow book. Honest. Brutal. Continuation off Diary of the Little Things.

merci, merci, merci. pillow book.

I'm going to believe all will be changing soon.

Pillow Book. Honesty, served out raw and uncensored. Not for the faint-of-heart. Review: "THIS is writing. Anyone who calls themself a writer after reading this can suck it." Continued in Reasons Why.

please come look for me there.

nothing personal. pillowbook.

A collection of poetry. /ED trigger.

I'm weird. You're weird. Come, let's join in mutual weirdness. A little girl's pillow book and the truth hidden therein.

of when to cling and when to let go, and the wisdom to know the difference. f/f consensual incest

I am an owl breathing steadily in the woods. Collection.

When I was a girl, I dreamt of being...

i have sinned. pillow book.

And if our hands should meet again, let them. Pillow book.

sick on sleep and religion. i need a pillowbook.

I listen to the wall's regrets. Novella.

i'm not okay.

insomnia is a bitch.

let's paint this town nine shades of red. pillowbook.

The truth of our lives is usually far from what we wished for.

and you couldn't handle me. a very personal pillow book.

we're gonna burn the world to the ground and turn it upside down. let's pretend the only thing we have to regret is regret. pillowbook III. FINISHED.

when all i see are lovers who could have been mine. pillow book.

An exploration of everything that can and will flit in and out of the mind of somebody like me. Grasp my cool fingers and walk with me. Un pillow book.

I love you like I love the destruction.

and i want to surrender and let it feast on my soul

he had scuff-marks on his shoes, from where he'd been stepping on people all day.

That's when I realized it was time to start over. A pillow book.

don't you dare turn away

wonderland is always open, here. pillowbook IV.

at the world, that's when all the cracks of sorrow and emptiness appear.

i realise of course that even then, it might not be worth it. a pillowbook, i guess. DONE.

i'm buying you an oxygen tank for christmas." pillowbook A

expecting the world to treat you fairly because you are good is like expecting the bull not to charge because you are a vegetarian. a pillowbook .

to fill the void.

A criticism.

I don't want to come back to life

and when it all crashes down 'cause it always does i can close my eyes, swallow it with a hopefully convincing smile to you, cross my fingers and hope to forget and pretend that i am fine fine fine.

Self Injury.

he said. a pillow book.

from scissors to pens from a cutter to a poet

it's something like this but it never exactly is, is it?

Because isn't that what makes us human? /possible ED and SI triggers.

this is not a pillowbook, because i can't make promises, i can't make guarantees. this is whateverwemakeit. this isn't happeninghappeninghappening it is. i am pulling out my own spine, vertebrea by vertebrae and it is beautiful and it is grotesque.

she cries, as always. -pillowbook the third-

dust

Not what you expect.

There’s a point, the deeper you fall, where self-destruction becomes your crutch.

breathe me in

Do we ever really have control?

A year in the life of immaturity, of a self-destructive and chaotic bunch.

Homesickness will make your surroundings quite gray.

you traced love songs up and down my arms with your fingertips

A compilation of my thoughts, dreams, and feelings. A pillow book. Finished.

We shared the rushes, and it gave me the same feeling as touching you did. You wouldn't let me touch you. It made you feel alive, you made me feel alive.

He pushes you against his locker and kisses you, and if not for the principals office down the hall, he would have his hand up your shirt. You always wear lipgloss with cherry taste and I wonder if he can taste it. Femmeslash.

because sleep evades me. because i love the stars. because i'm attracted to the moon. because i'm nervous and can't sleep. because i'm weird. because i have a lair, apparently. because i am me. third pillow book.

Emotions should never be held in as long as you can write them down. Welcome to my pillow book.

tell me about my future, because i already know my past. a pillowbook.

its taken me over. pillow book.

like only we know how. she loves her little white commas, & i'm just a singular parenthesis.

and I'm not so sure anyone can help you, now. -poetic pillowbook of sorts-

We all have our shortcomings, and we all have our weaknesses. A Vice, once found, never leaves a victim unchanged.

Second pillow book.

and to live is to die. pillow book.

My life has turned into bare routines. So empty. So hollow.

you eased my trembling sorrow, then threw it back again.

but if you really want to make the world end, you'll have to strike a match, or something.