I write along the walls of my mind.
I'm going insane? I don't know. Why?
Depression grips tight in a strangling hold.
I'd rather die young then see me get old.
Working my bones eight hours a day;
far too much stress for too little pay.
Real life doesn't rhyme or ebb or flow.
Work never stops and the clock goes tick-tock.
I'll look in the mirror, what do I see?
Old eyes. Sun-scarred misery.
I've got nothing to show for myself. Sure, there are some diplomas up on a shelf—
And far too many stories I have yet to think about:
Get them out of my brain and onto the page; I'll fall into a rage sooner or later.
These thoughts of violence and nonsensical anxieties race around and around in my head. A wheel that never stops. Oh, pure OCD.
Pure. A shot of water that I swallow down and pretend that it's vodka.
No, mother, I'm not alright and it's about time that you stop telling me to try harder.
I can't pull my bootstraps up any higher or else I may strangle myself with them!
This is my last breath before drowning.
Oh, dear friend, if I don't find my salvation soon, I'll hit the bottom of the swimming pool.
I make me crazy, and I was never taught how to swim.
Flick. Lights off. You hate me, I've ruined your life. You wish id never been born, you wish i'd just have died.
Flick. Lights on. You love me, You want a second chance. You want to be my mother , we can do this again.
Flick. Lights off. You're in the dark once more. I hide behind the walls of my room, scream and lock door.
Flick. Lights on. I've stop trusting the lights, they deceive me. Even when the lights are on...ARE THEY EVER REALLY ON?!
I can't trust the lights. So I go mad in the dark. Living in a house in a room full of lies.
There's no escape from the darkness, especially when i close my eyes...
Flowers in her hair like the first blossom of spring.
Swaying in the wind, picturesque.
The birds, for her, they sing.
When her branches lay bare and she's empty and colder,
Don't take it personally,
Don't be afraid to hold her.
Seasons come and go
And this you should know,
She will never be evergreen.
it's ether this or Oatmeal you guys.
I wanna re-roll my character.
I’m riding my bicycle down the lane,
My mind is a place to get a tan,
there is no sun.
My heart is so weary,
I have no aorta.
I’m so excited and I can’t wait to hear his song,
I don’t care.
I’m so horny so I want sex,
my libido isn’t there.
I can’t stop dancing and the music is making my thoughts race,
I’m out of energy.
My eyes are bigger than my wallet,
I have nothing.
I’m so ugly, but he is too,
we broke our mirrors.
This world has nothing to offer,
I want everything.
Light my candles and smell everything,
roses smell real bad.
I’m spinning like a ballerina
and my guts are spilling
all over the pages.
The ink saturates my skin
and stains my bones.
I’m so far gone.
I’m so mad.
I’m so angry I might snap,
and when I snap I hurt myself.
This has got me spinning
like a ballerina,
and my blood has spilled
all over the sheets
and I’m as black as I’ve
Out of control, dipped in honey
but coated in sour citrus.
I’m rolling uphill
only to fall down from my climax
and I’ve peaked.
Wild, chaotic and
running for my life.
I’m scared too much and I’m emotional,
the tears come through and laughter comes out.
When I see your face it looks incredible,
when I see the sun my eyes light up.
When I hear my heart I get excited
and my room is no longer a mess
and there is no more dishes in the sink.
I’m about to go out and party
and I’m about to dance and laugh.
I feel great;
God is lifting me off of my feet.
And while I write, I orgasm and
my eyes begin to tear as I turn into chaos
and I’m spinning like a ballerina,
spinning faster than I ever dreamed of.
i hate looking at you.
i hate that you're in front of me in class.
that i have to talk to you.
participate with you.
pretend that everything is fine.
i'm not okay.
but i pretend that i am, because no one will believe me.
if i tell them what you did they'll say "him? never."
and it hurts.
i try to tell all the other girls you woo but they're too caught up in being your lover, or should i say next victim.
one by one, you toss them out like garbage.
like you did me, as if what you took from me is replaceable.
i'm not replaceable.
what you took from me isn't replaceable.
i will live this pain forever and never able to tell a soul.
i can't tell them about the nightmares.
the feeling of dirt on my body that will never go away.
i'll only continue to imagine what it would be like if it never happened to me.
i didn't get to say no.
i didn't have a choice.
you did with me what you want, and i've hated myself because of it.
i've dreamed of me kicking you off, screaming at the top of my lungs, calling for help.
but that doesn't change the fact that it still happened.
you hurt me.
you took away something that was my decision.
why would you hurt me like that?
why did you do it?
does your heart hurt at night like mine?
do you scream at yourself in the mirror like i do?
do you feel like a coward, the same way i do?
did someone do this to you too?
did you ever get to scream for help?