creative 365

I sat waiting, praying for the time to go back instead of forward.
I looked at my wrists and remembered just how feeble I felt inside.
I just wanted to leave behind all the stains you left on me.
So I walked hoping to get as far away from this town as possible.
I ran and with each step I tried to pretend I was leaving everything behind, as if in a few steps I’d be in a new world with a new life.
The air burnt my lungs and I sat on the cold hard ground, imagining that this is how my heart must feel.
I cried, not one of those sobs where your entire body shakes and your head hurts and your chest feels like its caving in.
It was a soft silent cry and I knew in that moment that the old me was dead and gone
Lost somewhere in the wind and now here I was dead, empty and cold.
—  (193/365) by (KJ)
I am tired –
tired of pouring cup after cup
of caffeine down my throat,
swallowing productivity
one scorching mouthful at a time.

Forfeiting sleep for success,
I want to scream,
but my throat already burns
and I don’t think screaming
will earn me extra cords
at graduation.
—  “Education” (19/365)
Day Five Hundred Ninety Nine.

i am curves in wrong places 
and poorly stifled laughter
i’m big dreams and doe eyes
and belief in a happily-ever-after

I couldn’t fight it anymore.
I didn’t want to fight the feeling anymore.
I gave in.
I picked up that razor and I went hard and fast,
trying to rid the ugly pieces of me.
I surrendered.
I quit.
I picked up that bottle and drank until
I couldn’t feel the blood dripping down my wrists.
I caved in.
I don’t want to wake up tomorrow.
—  (190/365) by (KJ)


Your face
With the brown freckles
Brown eyes
Brown hair
Isn’t what reminds me of dirt
It’s how I want to stomp your head in
In the middle of a forest
With mud all over your body
It’s how I want to watch you decompose
Magots crawling out of your skin
With their brown tinted bodies
It’s how when I throw your body in a river
The dirt will turn to mud
Your face just brings the emphasis
Of what I want to do to you

Day Six Hundred One.

i keep searching for inspiration 
in the same tired places and 
come up empty handed
instead, my fingers tap aimlessly 
on worn in plastic
trying to make sense of a world 
that can barely understand itself

The best parts of me aren’t real. I’ve created this person for you to love and I’m a little too tired tonight to bring her out.
Yeah I know this isn’t what you signed up for but I told you what you were in for darling.
I’m giving you a way out now, handed you the eviction notice to our love. Take it and run.
You don’t need me and I don’t love you.
—  (184/365) by (KJ)


Love was when I was with you
Your body was close to mine
And your hands were wrapped around my neck
Stealing my breath away

Day Five Hundred Seventy Two.

putting pen to paper 
is like waking from a midday slumber 
stretching tingling limbs
to start fresh
begin a new 
to create something beautiful

and if you only knew
how my bones ache for you
I wonder if you would tell me
your body is fragile too
—  Leigh, day 354
We were depressed but because we had each other we pretended that we weren’t.
We pushed it down the same way we pulled our sleeves down over our arms and hoodies over our heads hoping no one would notice.
But that was the thing, we couldn’t fix each other.
We needed to fix ourselves.
We needed real love, love within,
love for ourselves before trying to love each other.
I let him go.
He let me go.
He found himself at the bottom of a bottle of vodka and
I still walk around at night hoping that I’ll see something familiar, maybe a glimpse of myself.
—  (188/365) by (KJ)