As emotion rolls out those close around can see the pain deep inside of me. The nights when I lay awake in vain, haunted. It's the fact that your presence keeps sweeping over me. I can see you just like before, your old pickup truck and your flannel jacket torn. Your eyes so bright, so full of beautiful life. little did you know your major role and impact on life. Gone but not forgotten my memories play, I'll never forget that day, when I was forced to give you away. With the echoes of my hurt heart beating everyday I remember you, and all that you used to do. There is never a more true statement then the one that Last i Heard come from you, when you had said "son I love you". I've laid awake these countless nights dreaming about you and your wonderful life. But it hurts, my heart hurts! It yearns for you, it's like a massive hole that's just ripping me into two. I just hope that you miss me to. And I promise I'll hold that moment, that last moment that I got to see you.
Because every little thing in my life reminds me of you. Everything. I see you in the books I read. And the songs I listen to. In the movies I watch. Every thought that goes through my head leads back to you. And I can’t help but think that you are the answer to my problems and the end to the pain. But thinking like this is a dangerous trap. Thinking like this gets me hurt. And I don’t think I can take any more hurt. Liking someone like you makes me realize that I will never be good enough. I will never be right and you will always deserve better. I know I can’t be that for you and I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I’m just a messed up, talentless, ADHD teenager who has no control over my feelings or words. I’m sorry that I’m not all you want, because that is all I want to be. But I know there’s no point because you’ll leave me anyway. Everyone does. Everyone just walks away with no goodbye. I am always the second choice, the back-up plan, the alternative until you find someone better. And I’m just tired you know? I’m tired of trying to put up with all this shit and telling myself that there are only 3 more years till I can leave this fucking state and leave all the pain behind. But a lot can happen in 3 years. And over any other emotion, I’m just scared and lonely in this nightmare that I call life.
depression is a sickness
an inability to pull myself
up from the pit of darkness
that clings to my skin.
it's not that i choose to be
this way, but it simply
is not possible. at first
i think it's because he's not
here and that i'm lonely.
but i've always been this
way, even when he was
around. i've always been
filled with hate, anger, pain.
Some fools are born, conditioned by fate,
And they, like all, still procreate.
All useful knowledge flees their minds,
As selfish life fulfills these swines.
And while they swing and cheat for joys,
The watchful eyes of their little boys
Do take a look at what they see,
And what they see is “A bigger me.”
Their little girls, in company of dolls,
On occasion, foresee what befalls
Upon them, too, as they soon explore,
An impending battle of love and war.
But then, there exists that little kid,
Whose sex and gender shall remain amid
A cloud of irrelevance and mystery:
Their wisdom calls most urgently.
As this kid sees a life unravel
Along Lacanian stages of travel,
Concerned are they with the fuss and mess,
Which most adults do not confess
To what they cause and what they bring,
Most taken in by their offspring;
And as one parent lacks all the care,
The other lives a life unfair.
In times of chaos and audacious cuss,
Dear vengeful killer, Oedipus,
Consumes all facets of the mind
Of the little kid who must confine
All pain, and hatred, and all rage,
Enough to place one in a cage,
And leave one there to squirm and rot,
Like a lobster boiling in a pot,
And free the bird whose wings to fly
Have been broken off, now left to die,
In part, by diabolical norms
That invade a home in all shapes and forms.
But, the kid looks up at the two,
Then whispers quietly, “I’m neither of you;
Not the blinded one, who feels must reign;
Nor the obliged one, too tied to pain."
Nor does the kid ever dare to be
A product passed politically:
Ingrained in mind, in heart, and soul
A subordinate being in a bowl,
That turns, and turns, and turns, and turns
While greedy capitalists more they yearn.
Within this cycle is little choice,
Hetero-normatively sans a screaming voice,
For a true language for some not made;
Virile chest-pounds place a shade
Upon the stronger ones deprived
Appraisal for their stronger minds.
The kid, all this, can’t take to be,
As what they see they wish not to see.
In this unbalanced Yin and Yang,
The kid’s perception hits a bang:
“The power lies within the one
Who mostly governs with a gun;
And how can a human hurt their double,
When love and passion are lesser trouble?"
A fitting sex the kid can't choose,
As in every win, each sex does lose.
But slowly, as they come to be,
The kid, society directs to see,
That to just one sex they must belong,
As 'genitalia proves feelings wrong.'
This funny theory most credits Freud.
By collective viewpoints the kid’s annoyed:
'No good is said, no good is done',
For those who are all, but yet are none.
Great gender points makes Butler de Judith,
While her female likes are out to proveth
That she is wrong within her stance
‘Only female unity will give rise to chance'
To an inclusion of the female word,
And one that’s First, not Second or Third.
The opposite, still out to bend
The rules and laws, all to pretend
That the other sex does not exist
Because swollen egos must persist
In rule, in art, in build, and biz:
'Fields where opposites lack all wiz.'
The kid, in this silly world of theirs,
Looks at all the foolish heirs
Who bounce and shoot this gendered ball,
While the kid stands back and laughs at all.
We never know when our
time is ticking to an end.
I've lost count of my sins.
Whether that day is tomorrow,
next week or in 10 years
i'm ready to be judged for my sins.
Holding his hand as he departed,
he says i'll see you again
and we'll finish what we started.
I've seen my brother
die in front of my eyes.
Tears running down my cheeks as he's placed in a body bag..
The pain he felt i felt in my chest.
i didn't want to see him go to rest.
My heart felt heavy like concrete
but my heart beat was deep yet so empty..
i never thought something
so empty could weigh that much
But we all take part in
situations that we aren't proud of.
never thinking about the consequences
of our actions we live for today
and not tomorrows satisfaction.
I will greet death with open arms
After all aren't we all born to die?
I'm not afraid to die because
knowing that i could reunite
with everyone that I've lost
makes it seem less frightening.
But i do fear the unknown
I'm focusing on trying to be a better person.
Because in the end i know it will all be worth it.
I want to see my brother again
not just in my memories..
Being in Heaven with angels
painful than being in hell
burning with evil demons
The world bleeds colors for a girl who can only see shades of grey
She sees in particular 50 shades
She walks with pain and dignity
The type of dignity that screams
the type of dignity that is silenced by tired fingers with a smack to the lips
She is a walking contradiction
Her conscience fumes with words that only she can hear.
They paint her canvas with colors so dim that it is surprisingly impossible to hide.
She wants the world to know of her pain; she is seeking.
Acceptance but Approval.
It is with precision that she is
It is with precision that she is
Her canvas is a replica of Da' Vinci
Carefully crafted so that enough smiles can hide her tears
She blooms with effortless screams.
She does not walk to be seen
But to be heard
And she cries
Only because her comfortable canvas has now been brushed with
And for the first time in a long time
The world bled Red for a girl who is used to seeing grey.
She can not find words to express what's been drawn.
She cannot lift a finger to the skin she has..
-Galleries of displayed art
she is seeing 50 shades of colors
Not only on herself but on other's
she stops in the middle of the street
Her pupils look at the ground blurry as she falls sobbing.
She pleads for grey-
As if the color would respond.
"Please, I'm sorry"
Mutes the women and paints
A new canvas on her naked body
"Anything but red"
The woman said.
"If you wish for grey,
stop painting red"
The woman opened her eyes,
looked at her stained knuckles,
opened her shackled hand,
Scoped her Canvas,
Felt the delusional ground,
Her mind screamed of colors.
RED RED RED
"Put the brush down,
this is not Art."
|And she did|
Stars are invading my vision and everything is blank. All I see is blinding darkness for the next few hours. When I finally wake, I see myself hanging from my rope attached to my ceiling. I gasp in horror. My throat closes up and my eyes betray me when they allow warm tears to form puddles on my sunken-in cheeks as I watch myself sway in horror. I quickly compose myself and the silence I hear is piercing. I wait. I wait. I wait. In the next two hours, I hear someone enter my house. I freeze. I hear keys jingling and the removal of coats. Next I hear voices. Two separate voices. Two familiar voices. My muscles ease up when I realize the foreign people are simply my parents. I hear stairs creaking. (I always hated those stairs. they reverberated booming creaks while I was trying to quickly maneuver my way up them after a deceitful night of sneaking out to see someone who was my very first heartbreak - but that's a different story.) I hear laughter. I hear happiness. I hear desperate calls for my name. I hear silence. I hear frantic knocking on my door. "Open this door right now young lady! We do not have time for your disobedience at the moment!" The door swings open. Sobs. Screams. My mother falls to the floor. I hear my mother calling out for my father, begging him to somehow comfort her.
My father files in. His mouth opens. Tears escape his eyes. He doesn't bother wiping them. Through his cloudy vision, he spots my note of finals words. He reads the first few sentences. "It was my time to go, I felt it in my bones. This was for the best, for I was only making a mess. I was making a mess of my life. I ruined myself. I had to leave. I am very sorry." He only gets that far until he drops the note and frantically dials 911. "Operator! Operator! I just found my daughter, she, she hung herself!"
"Please be patient sir, we'll have someone there right away." And with that he hangs up. He looks at my fragile mother. Then to me. He eyes me up and down before shouting to no one in particular, "Why?" He loses it and breaks down even more. My mother is still sobbing. Her shoulders are shaking. I ache for her. When I was alive I had not known I could have such an effect on people. I'd always considered myself dead, on the inside that is. Now I really was dead. And there's no going back. As much as I wish I could take it back, I cannot. And for that I apologize. I snap out of my thoughts and bring my vision back to my parents. The ambulance is here. They cover me in a white sheet and take me away. My mother tries to go into the ambulance but the paramedics stop her. They drive off. My mother falls onto the street. My father beside her. They are both apologizing. They are apologizing to me. Saying how they should've been there for me. Saying they should have noticed something and helped me. They are apologizing to each other. A day later, my best friend finds out. She sprints into her room and slams her door. Carefully, she selects a razor from her wooden cabinet in the bathroom and drags it across her wrist. "I'm sorry, I should've known. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry," she whispers. And with that, she's gone. I have caused all of this. I caused turmoil and pain, I am the reason for my best friend to take her life. I had not known people actually cared about me. I soon realize the severity of my poor judgement. And at that very moment, what was left of my ghostly my soul withered away. I decayed into stardust and floated into space. I am gone.
Day old hate, all the pain that's locked away I can't help but not escape. Miserably I stay, with or without you.
How long can your legs quake, your body shake, before your heart breaks?
How many times do you have to be knocked down before you can't pick yourself off the ground?
How much taunting and teasing does one have to do before it finally kills you?
Imagine being born into a family that loves you very much.
They work hard to provide for you and give you what you want.
Your mom works two jobs to provide for your basic needs.
Your dad works too, works 24/7, to make sure you get food to eat.
There's no money for toys or fancy clothes, but that's okay with you.
You still manage to smile, happy as always, doing what you love to do.
Now imagine being judged, taunted, ridiculed, insulted; for enjoying the little you have.
By someone who's rich with everything they want, but who's also incredibly sad.
And this sadness inside has messed with their head, it's not fair that you get to smile.
She is rich, she has so much money, but she secretly hates her life.
Imagine this person has made it their job to bring down your mood.
Imagine this person, knowing you're poor, always spits in your food.
Imagine this person, wearing their fancy clothes, throws you in the trash.
Imagine this person, that you don't even know, has made being alive sad.
You used to smile everyday, thanked your parents for what you had.
You never cared about the clothes you wore, you never thought you looked bad.
But this one kid who was upset with their life, took out their anger on you.
The words she said and the things she did had changed your point of view,
On life. You hated it, now you just wanted to die.
The pain she's caused is so immense you now longer loved your life.
That person who decided to ruin your life, to make life seem more "right".
Now that you have lost your joy she can finally sleep at night.
She's stolen your smile, killed you inside and she knows she's caused you pain.
But see, she thinks she was wronging some rights, so she is finally sane.
But you, you've lost all will to live. It'd be better if you were dead.
And so that's constantly in your thoughts, would people be happier instead?
You don't wanna believe it'll help anyone, what would your parents do?
They'd no longer have to work all night, cause no you means more food.
No you means more money, they can finally be at peace.
I would have never imagined that my parents would be better off without me.
It's 4 in the morning and I am awake, writing my parents a note.
I've told them I love them and because of that, its time for me to go.
I'll be gone forever, there's no bringing me back, as I will have bled to death.
You can find my body, drowned in the tub, clear water that would have turned red.
So she walks to the tub and fills it up, takes her clothes off and slips inside.
She tells herself, this suffering will end. Finally I can die.
And so she grabs the blade, closes her eyes and places it on her skin.
Drags it across, lets out a quiet sigh and lets herself sink in.
But I'd wonder what comment could be so bad, you would feel you're better dead than alive.
What was said to her, that made her lose her will to survive.
Was it the person who judged her for what she wore?
Was it the harassment she faced for being poor?
Was it the comment about her unwashed dress or was it the ripped shoes?
Was it her being told she would always be poor or was if the spitting in the food?
It shouldn't even matter what insult was said.
Her being happy and poor doesn't mean she deserved to be dead.
"Don't judge a book by its cover", it also means by class.
Being of a lower class shouldn't result in being harassed.
It's not something anyone chooses, so be careful what you say.
Cause once its said, it can't be forgotten and someone's life might be taken away.
Girl of stone
She stood tall under the blue sky's
A strong stone
Year after year
Inner rocks crumbled slowly with every struggle thrown at her
People climbed to the top just to leave
Walked in and out of her life
But still under the sun she stood tall
The inside cracked without anyone knowing
A slow but damaging process
But still day after day
People visited the stone girl
Admired her happiness
But what they didn't know was the pain within
The struggle she faced to hold herself together
When all at once
The girl fell
Peace by piece
While flowers bloomed and people gleamed with happiness
the girl was a mound of unknown pieces to damaged to fix