i learnt that happiness
is waking up giggling
with you before we
go to work in the morning

the hatred that humans hold will destroy
cities, homes, families and lives.
taking each person victim and tearing
apart the life that they have come to know
and come to love.

the world will crumble and the dust will
run with tears and blood and fear.
the hatred will birth more hatred.
people will fear for themselves and their
loved ones in a way we shouldn't need.

the children will be broken, their spirits
smashed in the war, and their innocence
thrown aside as they become soldiers.
the world will be destroyed by hatred.

it hurts
breathing,
living,
existing.

it hurts knowing that
wherever i go
i'll be stuck in
this fear of -
i don't even know what.

but in the darkest parts
of my mind i can see
his face, his smile, his
eyes and the way they
drank me in like liquid love.

it didn't even happen
like that,
in a dark place,
but i'll never be able to see
him without the hatred
boiling inside
and bubbling away.

it hurts to be sitting,
having a good day
and one thing reminds
me of him,
of his moment of triumph,
and my stomach caves
and i feel the tears threaten.
i close my eyes
and wish everyone away.

i keep thinking that he loved me,
he said so,
he said it and i believed it
and for so long
i forced myself to believe
that what happened
was okay
because
he loved me.

i can barely breathe
the weight inside my chest
is weighing me down
dragging me further
into the darkness below
and i don't know
how much longer i can
hold on

maybe the only
way to stop the pain
permanently is to
breathe my last breath
and leave this
world far behind

I honestly can't handle this any more:
I can't take crying so often,
I can't keep waking up in the middle of the night shaking from fear,
I'm done with constantly trying to stay positive and act happy when all I want to do is cry,
I hate that the only time I can be honest about how I feel is when I've almost completely lost hope,
I'm sick of holding on by nails to the false promises of everyone,
I'm done with hoping that for once someone isn't lying;
I don't want people to be disappointed in me any more.

I'm done.
I'm done with it all,
with everything.

nobody else is accountable
for my happiness
and that's why i'm happiest
when i think of death
because i give just as much
of a ****
as everybody else does
about me

it hurts that you're so far away
and you don't need me
and you're so busy living
and i'm left behind,
forgotten,
something to be dealt with
on a rainy, quiet day

I guess you could say
That I'm just not
In the mood
To exist

I hate it
How we break
Others down
To make
Each other
Feel better

Imagine your favourite celebrity bumped into you
On a busy side walk, and quietly apologised
Before slipping off, back into the crowd
And stole your heart in the process

Imagine your favourite actor bumped into you
Looking for a place to lay low for a while
And to pass the time you got to know them
And the whole time, they seemed impressed

Imagine accidentally dialling the wrong number
And your favourite singer answers the phone
And shyly you apologise, and they tell you it's fine
And the whole time you're mentally celebrating

Now, imagine after all this has happened
Or only one of the above
And you didn't have a friend to share it with

I'm not angry,
not even annoyed,
I'm simply hurt.

Do I mean so little
that you enjoy
playing games with
my heart?

It hurts that sometimes
you care, and other
times you couldn't
give less of a ****.

Sometimes I'm your
sunshine,
and sometimes I'm
the rain on your
parade.

In the end, I know
that it's my fault,
I'm the one giving
you the power to
break me.

The thing is, we never understand people
We never seem to take the time to appreciate them
To appreciate their humour, their laugh,
their general beauty and perfection

In all honesty, I wish I'd known you better
I wish I had known you well enough to love
and miss, and to be more than just stunned by your death
You were great, funny, handsome and perfect in every way

I don't know where you go when you die
But I hope that where ever you are, it's great
I hope you're happy there, and I hope you haven't forgotten
Those that are still here, those that lost you

i can see them standing together,
holding each other's hand in the summer
and i want to tell them to leave, that
this is wrong.

i want to tell her of his fury,
of the force he will inflict on her children.
i want to tell him that she's isn't right,
that they will have fights and things,
that they will forever regret, will happen.

i want to tell them that if this happens,
they will put the kids into unhappiness
and their fights will affect the whole house.
i want to tell them that if this didn't happen,
they could meet people better for themselves

but i don't. i am selfish and i let them go,
i let them meet and hold hands and fall
madly in love. i let them fall out of love,
and i let the bad things happen

because i want to live, and i know
that love is just another person
suffering

i read a poem that made me question
the things i've been calling poetry
it made me feel that what i write
simply isn't enough

i could do better

the poem was about a woman
and i felt whole
and the words weren't for me,
about me,
but i felt whole
in ways i can't explain
and i'll never be able to

but i thought to myself
that this is poetry
and this is what words
are supposed to do
they're supposed to make
you feel things
regardless of what
and i kept wondering
if my words
have that effect

i want people to yern,
long,
hope,
survive off my words,
devour them
and i want my words
to leave them longing
and hoping for just a bit more

and i read this poem not once,
not twice,
but three times,
eating up the words like they
were the last meal on earth
and i felt whole

i share my body,
i share my mind,
i don't have privacy
from the person inside.

she's a demon,
a ***** to the core,
she forces bad thoughts
and a whole lot more.

it's a a constant struggle,
it's always a fight,
sometimes i wish she'd go
but mostly at night.

i don't want her inside,
i just want to be free,
i'm tired of her ruining everything,
i just want to be me.

i am afraid
to trust my
heart because
it has betrayed
me too
many times
to be fooled
again

i miss us, the way we were before
i miss the way you used to understand me
i miss the way i could sit for hours and talk
i miss how i used to turn to you first

i miss the way we knew where we stood with each other
i miss the way i could tell you anything
i miss sitting up until 2 am stalking celebrities together
i miss feeling at home in your presence

i miss our friendship
i miss the trust we had
i miss you
i miss us

all those promises of forever,
and the words whispered.
the shared secrets, the glances,
the looks when we knew what
the other was thinking.

the days spent pretending
that the rest of the world didn't
exist and the nights of talking.
the mornings of tired silence,
the random texts that were only
half a thought, and the brokenness
that we share but refuse to acknowledge

when will you stop blaming yourself for who i am?
when will you finally see that it's not you, it's me?
the blindness of self hatred which you shield
yourself behind will break one day
and you will see that all the problems that we've
had to deal with are all because of me.

I'm not sure if
My existence
Amuses me
Or scares me

2016 is a joke
Been a hell already
I've lost too much
It's only been five days
But my goodness
What will the rest of the year
do to me?

'the world is sad' we say
but is it? we are sad.
we are broken people,
broken by others who
couldn't think of another
way to hurt themselves.

we pretend that dreaming is
bad, because people who've
accepted the failure are afraid
of others repeating their mistakes.

we act like feelings are bad,
because when you show
your emotions, you're weak and
nobody wants to be seen as weak.

what if we stop pretending?
what if we start dreaming,
working hard to achieve our goals.
what if we stop hiding who we are?

for once, let's stop pretending and
be true to ourselves. dream. fight for
what you need. be the sunshine you
want in your life, and others will
reflect it.

it's time we stopped complaining and started trying.

I wrote how I felt
on a small slip of paper
and I threw it
into the ocean
to never been seen
*again

thinking, hoping, wondering.
for so long it was a question of
when life would begin to progress
forward - until now, when it is
happening.

am i ready? can i handle this?
for so long i'd only dreamed of
the mere possibility to the point
that, perhaps, i never believed
it would happen.

and now, here i sit. wondering.
everything i've been waiting for,
everything i've been working towards.
every day when i thought i couldn't go
on, every night when i didn't want to;
the dream was all that held me.

and now it is here. and i sit.
wondering.
am i ready?

nostalgia sticks as i try to stop thinking
listening to the intros to my favourite
animes that were more than just a
comfort for so many years.

i want to stop thinking, but i can't.
make it stop. i want to be okay.
make it stop. i'm tired of feeling
exhausted, tired of being depressed,
tired of being nothing more than a
robot to my anxiety and society.

now's my favourite intro. i'm listening,
trying to force myself to remember the
times i watched bleach with my sister,
trying to remember what the happiness
felt like.

make it stop.
please.

Matt, why didn't you talk to someone?
Why didn't tell a friend how you were feeling?
You could have let out all the sadness
You could have stayed, you could still be here

Matt, your mom is broken
She cries a lot
She wonders about you
She misses you
I miss you

Matt, your little brother is struggling
He doesn't smile as much
And his eyes tell you that he's seen too much
Ryan needs you

*Matt, I need you

I lie in bed
Late at night
Rereading our
Old conversations
Because I can't bring
Myself to actually delete them

each moment passes by,
and i can barely pretend to care.
i watch them pass with less
emotion than i watch the street below,
wondering when will my time
to live arrive?

each moment stretches out,
around me, and closes in,
but it's no different than yesterday
and the day before.
as the moments suffocate me,
they make me wonder:
when will my time
to live arrive?

I'm like the prefix mono
I can be put with other people
Oh, so many others
But I'll always be alone

They say that
Teens who always
Listen to music are
Are most likely to get
Depressed easily, but it's
Those teens who have no one
Else, besides the music that makes
*Us feel ever so down

I'm not against dating,
I'm not against people being happy,
I'm against pointless relationships
because it's a lot of time
and no emotions

when we sit in the shade
from the burning sun on the
autumn afternoon, listening
to the children hunt for eggs,
all i can think is that you all
belong here.

i am the imposter, i can feel that they know. your jokes are all funny and i can't find the energy to laugh.

i don't want to be here, i hate 'family lunch'es, i hate pretending to be alright when i just want to sit in my room, alone.

family is always priority for me,
but i cannot place them in my life.
so we sit, laughing with all your loved ones,
and i pretend not to feel alone.

old habits approach me like dealers
in the darkness. their faces hidden by shadow,
their intentions vivid as they whisper
wonderful promises of release,
of escape and of freedom.

i tell them no, push them away,
i attempt to stray towards the light.
they grab my wrist and spin me around,
holding tight as they look me in they eyes
and whisper "you're not going anywhere".

i try to hold out, but the fear is building
up inside, and i'm not sure if i am strong enough
to fight back, to win this constant battle.
i want to scream for help, i want to cry out
in desperation, but i am drowning.