When confronted I try tell myself, "I am not scared to die".
I tell others my most misleading lie, one I've told myself recently.
As well looked into my lovers eyes, in all her emotional freedom.
She asked me, "Aren't you afraid to never wake up again?
That you and everything we do will one day never exist."
Uttered back, something along the lines of "Lets just think about now".
But my mind goes to work thinking back to when I was ten.
Crawling into the bed closing my eyes listening to my thoughts.
Feeling the cool sheets, allowing the pillow to take in my head.
Having similar doubts, as questions formed. Just learning of death.
Through the anxiety of never waking up.
I'm holding her right now. Because I need her just as bad.

Now I will sing a song about my mind and heart. Of how awful it is to sit and drink until I fall asleep
Passing out on my vomit that sadly enough is the only warmth I feel any more.
Thinking about the days I shined like gold but now I’m nothing more then rust
All your love is gone and my fantasies turn bitter by the hour
Remembering how I held you tight but now all I want…I don’t know what I want
Maybe another drink or two will clear my mind and let me know what I desire
Is it you or another shot of whisky?
Help me dear god who is up in the heavens let my melody turn mellow
bring my lover back and take this bottle take my tears and take my heart
Take it all and giver her back to me. Take these nightmares or let her make them better
…but she was a bitch how never gave two fucks about you…
She lied…she never loved you…you where just another pity date
“No! No!! She loved me…she told me…” crying this out loud to let my self know in what world I am
Curling up in to a ball as I stay quite so I can let my mind speak….

Chug down more of this liquid that will soon turn in to your blood…
Let it destroy you just like the wicked lies you tell yourself so you can sleep at night
Such a fucking idiot thinking everything can change and no it can never change
You lost her not because of this habit but because you were blind
A hopeless fool who could not even water a plant
A hopeless fool who could not look out the window
Chug it down and let it grown in you like the words you never spoke to her

Now let me sing you a song of a boy and a girl. Of how awful it was to sit and talk on the phone
Not just for her but more for him as he waited for her to fall asleep
As it was the only way he had to feel closer to her the only time he could speak his mind
They once sang about a world together but now they can’t even picture a bridge…
He still calls every day and tries to fight for them…but what if I told you….
What if I told you that the boy is a girl and the girl is a boy?
Would this change the song?

she sits at home
every saturday night
talking shit about all the people
that she doesn't like
too bad she's alone
can't say i feel bad for her
she did this on her own
theres no need to be sad for her

she comes to school every day
wishing she was in a t-shirt in jeans
cares so much about what other people say
pretending she doesn't maybe thats why she's mean

He felt the chest move up and down,
Like a clock, it’s moving was certain, one, then two
Then three beats, then five hundred, five hundred and twenty,
He could feel the pressure of breath, moving so gently out, so gently in,
And he could watch the soft slumber as it rested
Upon the face, the eyes moving gently beneath that
Fragile skin placed there, that made the eyelids,
A beautiful song; a soliloquy maybe, coming up from that
Glass-like face, lost in its own respite, lost in its mysterious feelings
Of day and night and all the time between wrapped into one.
He knew, that somewhere there, deep inside, maybe today
Maybe not today, maybe in the will of the sanctum,
He too was there, as she slept soundly, folded against his body,
She lies there, so soft, so gentle, lost in her own device.
He could feel every inch of her body, and never move his hands,
The warmth of her, the essence of her, pouring over him, consuming
Him in a soft, luxurious liquid, the essence of sleep.

To whomever is reading this,

First off, let it be known that I do not seek attention, nor do I wish it even in the slightest. See, I most certainly do prefer to be on my own. The spotlight's far too bright anyway. Or at least, that's what I'm trying to tell myself. However, I still can't seem to shake the feeling that this could very well be a cry for help, and that somehow, these words are my last hope. But then again, it is just another humid night, and maybe I'm only writing to make use of my time as I've come to the realization that I won't be falling asleep at any point soon.

I thought I was doing better, I honestly did. I'd started talking to my friends again. Laughing, sharing jokes, maybe even throwing in a genuine smile every once in a while. I mean, I sure as hell knew that I still had a long ways to go, but, things were finally starting to look up for me. Or so it seemed.

What I've never been able to quite fully understand, is how quickly everything can change. In the blink of an eye, really. Life is not a constant; it's a rollercoaster ride filled with ups and downs and bumps and turns and highs and lows and scary moments. A good day can turn into a horrible day in just a fraction of a second, because that's just the way it goes. We're supposed to grin and bear it because, well, we have to. Things change and people change, and life doesn't stop for anybody.

But tell me, what happens when it's a bad day after a bad day after a bad day? What happens when your friends give up on you? When there's no more jokes to be told and a fake smile is the only thing that will force the corners of your mouth to curve upward? See, maybe I was wrong before. Maybe life really is a constant sometimes; because it seems to me that all I've got are constant feelings of darkness. Depression. Loneliness. Regret. Hatred.

I don't hate the world though, trust me. It's a beautiful place. And maybe, just maybe, if things get better I'll sail the seven seas and travel to all the different countries and just let the greatness of this world engulf me and swallow me whole. I'd like that, I really would. You see, I love this world. It's above and beyond anything I could ever imagine. I don't even hate life, for that matter. The very fact that we are here today has got to be the biggest miracle there is. But then there's my life, which is a whole different story.

Don't get the wrong idea though. I am not complaining about my life. I have a roof over my head, I have food to eat, clean water, an amazing family, and so much more. There are children in this world who I'm sure would love to be me; children who don't have the money to attend school, or even to eat a decent meal. There are people getting raped, assaulted, bullied, and treated poorly every day. I am so lucky that I don't have to deal with any of that. So, why am I so unsatisfied? Why can't I just be grateful for everything that I have?

The thing is, I hate myself. Not only that though, I hate the way I've chosen to live my life. I hate the person looking back at me in the mirror each day, and I hate these thoughts in my head; screaming insults at me every second, loud enough to drown out everything that is good. I've forgotten how to appreciate the little things; like the fresh smell after a day of rain, or long walks on the beach, or laying down on cool grass to look up at the stars on a hot summer night. I guess I'm just too preoccupied with the things I should have done or shouldn't have done, not even thinking about the things that I still can do.

I'm a disappointment. A failure. I have put humans to shame. Why am I still here, when I clearly do not belong in a world of such beauty? Everything I touch gets spoiled; even myself. I should never have been born, but I was. And here I am still, but for what reason? What good can ever become of me? Should I just end it all right here and now, or would that do more harm than good? I don't know...

What I do know is this: I used to have hopes and dreams, always wishing that things would turn out in the end. But it's different now. I'm plummeting down into a tunnel of darkness, and the light that once could be seen near the end is now burnt out. I have no way of escaping.

Hope all is well on your end.

Much love,

Ridley

Elegant her mind was,
the beauties of
death,
blood,
sadness.

Elegant her skin was,
scared,
tarnished.

Elegant her thoughts were,
pills,
blade,
noose,
jump.

Elegant she was,
or every one thought she was.

Her real elegance didn't show through ger every day life,
only to those who wanted to hear,
and those that wanted to hear were
the demons.

Her elegance, in the end
is what destroyed her,
leaving the truth behind,
she wasn't so elegant after all.

I now close my book on the last three chapters.
Tears will fall, but I won't forget the laughter.
Day to day we worked together; joining together.
I won't lie we encountered turbulent weather.
United we sang, so united we will stay, always
I closed three chapters of my life just today.