Why I am I not allowed to be momentarily devastated by my mind?
Why must I smile and wave in the hallways when I need to collapse in their arms?
Why must I nod when I need to cry?
I want to run to someone
And embrace them
And weep
And scream
Why must I be expected to walk away?

Why am I not allowed to be broken for a little while?
Why must I hold myself together with the ****** glue that is the 4 hours of sleep I got?
I want to just be in an empty room
With one person who will hold my hand
Who will say it's okay to be devastated
And anxious
For a little while
So that I won't have to turn my assignment in with only poetry and doodles on it

They don't understand
The reason I'm not crying
Not sobbing
And not yelling
Is because I am writing
"Liana, go to sleep!"
They tell me harshly
But it's what keeps me sane
Let me write
It doesn't hurt anyone
It's the only thing
That can calm me down

I'm not hurt
Because of what you did

I'm hurt
Because you didn't tell me

You’ve probably heard the saying “life is short”
I don't think so
It is the longest thing you will ever
experience
It just passes quickly
If you're lucky enough
Life is
Sad
Happy
And long
I just hope mine is all of those

Behind the darkest clouds
The sun can still shine
You just have to embrace the storm
Dance in the rain
And scream with the thunder
Until it passes
And then you can lie in the sun

You’ve probably heard the saying “life is short”
I don't think so
It is the longest thing you will ever experience
If you're lucky enough
Life is
Sad
Happy
And long
I just hope mine is all of those

I am shivering
I am not cold

I am in the bathroom
I don't need it

I can't breathe
It isn't my asthma

I am exhausted
I can not sleep

I am lonely
But I won't text anyone

I am crying
I don't know why

I fear I will die
Nothing real is killing me

My stomach is grumbling
I won't eat

Right now
Life kind of *****

Life is a mess
That sometimes can't be cleaned

People can be soap
Or a rag
Or a towel
You wipe up life with them
And it helps a bit

Unfortunately
Some of them were *****
And spread it all over
Instead of cleaning it up
Like they said they would

If the world
Lost it's poetry, art, music, dance, stories, books, and performing
I think
The population would be cut in half
And those 4 billion people left
Would be miserable

I image life without them
As unlivable

When it's dark
If you put a light
Is it light or dark?
What if the light is very soft?
What if the dark is big?
What is dark?
What is light?
Where do you draw the line?

The stars are beautiful
They always are

It's just
Sometimes
The light pollution gets in the way
And we can't see them anymore

But who knows
Maybe
Tomorrow you'll see them really clear

Even the moon changes,
Develops,
After time,
becomes whole
So why can't you?

I mean,
you kind of do
But like the moon you
always go back
It's just not as gradual

I think of you both at night
Except with you
It makes me unable to sleep

At least the moon is up there in the sky
Just looking pretty
And following my car
Catching my eye
Making me smile
Not making me cry

I love the moon
But that's weird because
Is it's similar to you

Little girl wondering and wandering
This beautiful and treacherous world
Learning
And observing

She's a sponge
Unfortunately
The water was polluted
By the careless
And manipulative
By her own blood

Is that why she picks her skin off now?
To see him come out of her?
Trying to squeeze out
Little by little
Her pain?

She knows better ways too
For she walks
Dances in to the night
And reaches out for the stars
They heal her

She cries
She needs to release


I think she has wings
Will she notice?
And when she does
Will she dare to fly?
Where will she go?

I hope she wont fly alone...

They always say to rest in peace
But I've always wondered
Why we don't live in it too

The dead are dead
And we are living
Why do we save the good stuff when we're disintegrated underground?

Ann Frank was right about flowers
But there's more

Loneliness is a record player
Sitting in an attic
With no record
Or someone to love it

Is like looking
And seeing many people around you
But gazing into the mirror of your life
And just seeing you
Alone
And maybe
the monster in your head

Loneliness is a door
You're to afraid to open
You want what's on the other side
But the handle might burn you

It is a picture of you
With friends
Wearing fake smiles
And wanting to be in that moment again
More than anything
Or never again
For what is actually nothing

Loneliness can be felt
Alone a bathroom stall
Trying to breathe
And stay calm

In an auditorium
Filled with hundreds
When there is no one
Who notices you

You also feel it
When they do

While trying to push through
The crowded hallways
That are loud
And try to swallow you

Loneliness can be felt everywhere
And can be anything
If you're anything like me

Loneliness is a record player
Sitting in an attic
With no record

It is when you look into life’s mirror
And see you’re not alone
You see the monster of your mind creeping up behind you
Whispering loud enough that only you can hear

Loneliness is the loudest silent scream of them all
Yet no one can hear how loud you feel it
Through any bathroom stall

If I am everyone and everything
And everything and everyone is me
Why do I feel so ******* lonely?

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I've decided
That I will always look up
Because people stare down at their feet all time
And they don't get to see the trees, the leaves, and the sky
And the first time I tried it out
It left me with no doubt
Because I saw an apple tree
The birds soaring
The squirrels in all of their stress
The stars
And it made wonder
Why I ever looked down
When it was so easy to look up
And see the beauties of the world

Everyone looks at their feet
Looks down
It's what we're used to now

But just for a second
If you dare to glance up
It might flip your world around

I love him
Because I have known him forever
And because I can't help it
He's my father

But don't get me wrong
I don't like him
Not as a person
Or as a parent
Or as a human

I want kids to stop needing to raise their parents
People say that would take magic
So people have to step up
Because even 5 year old me knew magic isn't real

More meds
And more meds
Keep growing and shrinking
Changing
But never helping
At least never helping enough
I don't think pills are the answer
I think I just need a new head
Or maybe itd be better if I were dead

Sometimes the memories
Need to roll down my cheek
Before I can let them go

Why can't I just go about my day
Without these terrible memories
Randomly flooding my brain?

Eyes widen
I try to blink the thoughts out of my head
A wave of anxiety passes over me
Makes my stomach hurt
As well as my brain

I don't need to remember
Not now...
I need to calm down

I want to go to the corner
And sit alone for a second
But I risk being asked
If I'm okay
By a teacher
Or a kid who pretends that they're concerned
I'm afraid I'll lose it
If they do

The sound of your yelling and sobbing
Echo in my head
Ring in my ear
But my eyes are too busy for it
Because they are seeing my mom lock herself in the bathroom
To escape you
I see you you going on your knees
Screaming in the middle of the of where everyone can see
Putting the little girl that was me
In a place where she didn't know what to do
Over and over again

I can't breathe
And I need to snap out of it
...
But I can't

I need it to be quiet
Outside and inside my head

For some
When the clock hits midnight
The new day has started
They're in their bed all cozy and asleep
And then they're people like me
Where the terrors have just begun

Now is the time to pay
For the work you have procrastinated from
And the feeling locked up

At midnight most of the world resembles my thoughts----
Dark
Which never helps much

12:00 the clock reads
My head messes with the number as it always does
1+2=3
Three is a bad number
But twelve can be divided by six
And equal two
Two is a good number
Obviously

I hate math
But my head does this with times such as midnight
And generally bittersweet things

Memories of walking around in circles during recess
12345678
12345678
I repeated until it was over

Midnight feels unreal
But too real at the same time

Midnight
I wish I was asleep
But I'm kind of afraid to be
How can I be so tired, but not sleepy?

Midnight
You confuse me

“Are you okay?”

Sweetheart, I write poetry
And some kindhearted people said I write it well
…
That can only mean one thing
My mind is an unescapable hell

“Yeah, just tired”

My reflection in the mirror taunts me
Who could ever love this?
My friends tell me I'm beautiful
But they are just kind
I see my body in mirror
I know that these are lies

In the photo
They are
Extraordinary
And there I am
With my awkward thumbs up
Hideous

"Too big"
My reflection screams at me
"Like your father"
It shouts

I hate myself even though
I am a person who loves
Loves so strongly
So easily
It's so easy for me to love others
But the mirror
Oh the mirror makes me hate me

It's already late
Still hours worth of work to do
I fear I won't sleep

Lying in bed
It's morning now
I don't remember falling asleep
I never do
I just have to believed it happened

Yesterday is gone
Like my rest
But my dog is still lying next to me
Warm
And comforting

Ba-doom
Ba-doom
Her heartbeat is constant
It reminds me that I too am alive
Can she hear mine?

Tired
Forgot to shut off my alarm
My eyes are closing once again
I am being taken over by sleep
Slowly
And then all at once
I remember a book that once compared it to love

Next thing I know it I am awake again
Don't remember falling asleep
It very well could have been millions of years and my memory could have been erased
Whatever though

I look to the right to my mirror
My hair is a mess
More than the usual curly bird's-nest

Lying in bed
But this time
Calmly
Not crying
Or wishing for sleep
Of course my head still overflowing
It always is

But I
I stare at the ceiling
...
Peace

When I was younger and it was rainy I didn't like to go outside
"Oh but it's messy
It's so cold
And I'll get soaked!!"
I thought
I was too worried about surviving to think about truly living

But every moment I get older I seem to appreciate rainy days more and more
For today when it was raining I went outside and jumped in puddles
Rubbed mud on my arms
Legs
Face
Not minding that there was dirt under my fingernails

I do not even call it messy anymore
I call it one with mother earth

The cold I once said I hated even seemed comforting for it reminded me that I was indeed alive

I wished it would rain harder
So I could be even more covered in authenticity
and so the sky could be reminded that there were some
Who loved the natural things she made
That there were some that didn't open their umbrellas to avoid her

When I was younger I didn't think about wearing shoes all that much
I wore them everyday, everywhere
I suppose I was more worried about not angering my father
Then truly living

But now I go barefoot in my backyard so I can feel the grass under my feet
So I can stand on Earth

It's so simple
"Standing on earth"
But I take so much pleasure in it
I take so much pleasure in the removing the barrier between us
Me and mother nature

I think who I am now is partly letting my survival-focused inner child out
Because she was too worried to splash around in puddles

Moths are beautiful
But their life is one of unfairness and tragedy

They are drawn to are lamps and houses
They think they are the sun
They are met with a hard surface
Over and over again

They have the wings
The patterns
The shape
But they are not what we call “pretty”
So we **** them
And let them slowly **** themselves
Which we would never do to butterflies

They are only supposed to come out at night
When it’s dark
But unfortunately
They like the light

I want to cry
But instead I write poems
And sob through them

I lie in the darkness of my bedroom
Silence
Except for my mind
Peace
Except for my heart
I listen to the silence
Let the peace spread
And wish to sleep
Though it may take hours of this

.

      My                            I’m
   Cat is                         Lucky
  My baby.                   To have
And I will                 Such a good
Always love him a, loving, adorable,
Comforting, and amazing cat. He
  has been there for me ever since
    I remember. I am dreading the
     Day he dies. He was there to
         Comfort me for the death
           Of my two dogs. Love
                  Him endlessly.
                 Yes, he’s crazy

             Yes, he's steals food

           Yes, he scratches his skin

         Yes, he stinks up the house    

    But honestly it doesn't matter to me

None of that matters to me at all because

He realizes I’m crying and comes to make
  Sure I’m okay

    He brings me very  suspicious presents

        He makes me laugh on bad days

                      He is my friend

                               He is my
                               Crazy,
                              Amiable,
                   ­             Cute,
                                Bright,
      ­                          Loyal,
  Cat                         Lively,
  Brave                  Witty,
     And              Charm-
         Caring,       Ing,
                  Loving,

My cat is
Purring
Sitting on any available laps
Meowing
Loving everyone
Eating everything
Going on any shoulders that he pleases
Rubbing against people

And then there's me
Taking a break and hiding in the bathroom
Sitting in silence
Fake smiling
Picking skin
Laughing when I see everyone else laugh
Avoiding going out
Or talking to people

Humans are supposed to be social
And cats are supposed to be independent
Yet
It seems that my cat is more social than me

The dangerous thing for me is that I would die and excruciating death a thousand times just to make them smile once
And then I'll apologize if my screams from getting burned alive disrupted their sleep

Whenever I want to keep a straight face
I silently sob in my head
"My dog is dead
My dog is dead
My dog is dead..."

I went up to a squirrel
Such a stressed creature
I asked
"What's wrong?"
For some reason he didn't answer me

My eyes are wide
From every terrible thought that comes to mind

My eyes are filled with tears
From holding them in

My eyes are red
From barely any sleep

And my eyes are tired
Because they have to make it through the day and again

I'm glad it's dark
So no one can see them

He is a light
With no dimmer

He's either on
Very, very bright
Almost blinding

Or off
Depressed, out of control
Spreading his darkness wherever he goes

I long to install the dimmer
To have a sweet spot in the middle
But he's simply not built like that
Or maybe
He's too broken for it
And he can't be fixed

I have this friend
And boy, her life is hard
Compared to her mom
My dad is normal
Her dad died
About two years ago
And she has autism
What a life

I invited her over today
To play some board games with friends
And then sleepover
And she said yes
She also said that tomorrow was her birthday

I want to be a good friend
But I don't know what to do
Talking to her is hard for me
I want to ask her about her life
But I don't want to make her uncomfortable
I want to laugh
But I don't know what about

I want to make it fun for her
She deserves it, after all
But how?

I will do my best
It's all I can do
But I'm still stressed
Though I don't want to

"I don't deserve anything"
She says
Tears pouring down her cheeks
Like little pieces of her soul

Were they claustrophobic
Or is there a hole where they should be now?

"You deserve everything
That's just Fred"
I tell her while caressing her back
Trying desperately to soothe the pain

"What?"
She says with a break in her voice that hurts to hear
I wish I could all of her's

"Fred is that monster in your head that tells you exactly what you don't need to hear"

"I hate Fred
And I hate me"
She says
I hear the desperation in her voice

"You're my friend
And I love you
Which means that I have to love Fred too
Because he is a part of you

Fred is just pain
He's often forced into these small nooks and cranny's in your mind
But it's dark and scary in there
He thinks he's helping you
And feels he has to come out sometimes

He's just bruised and broken
And that's fine
We all are
I still love you"

She says that she doesn't
She says she wants to die
I know how the world looks right now in her eyes
And it's not beautiful

I tell her that I'm there for her always
And that she's wonderful
That the world is awful and ugly
But also stunning

I tell her that those people don't know her
And that those words in that letter might have hurt her
But do not define her
And that some other ones might even comfort her

And after many more tears,
A coconut ice cream,
Some comfort food with a comfort show,
And a warm embrace,
Fred finally held her hand
And maybe,
She hated him a bit less
By the end

It's hard to believe
That such a strong person
Is starting to deteriorate

They say that she's okay
She says that she's okay
Because it's too scary for her not to be

The short
Strong
Curly-haired
feminist
Who loves
And cares

She's my mother's mother

She can't stop existing
She can't leave
And the earth can't keep spinning if she does

It pains me
Hurts me
To think of her last breath

The person
Who once held me
Outside in backyard
And sang to the night sky with me

The person
Who raised my mother

The person
Who was once a little girl
With dreams and hopes

She can't leave...

I am here on earth
Technically

I am in my mind though constantly
And that's the reality

Unfortunately
Being in your head
When it clearly hates you
Is exhausting

The overthinking
Doubting
Repeating that same words over and over again
Guilt for things you didn't do
Morbid thoughts about someone killing your family
Intrusive thoughts about stepping on to the road

"They're not realistic"
You tell yourself
But still inside believe that they could be



It's like if you always were eating the same food
Everyday
Every second
And you don't like it
It makes you feel sick

I feel sick
All
The
Time

Both mentally
And physically

Please release me from my head
My hands hurt from trying to break the bars
But don't do it like I do
Where I end up kind of not feeling anything at all

"Is this because you are a part of me?"
I wonder
Maybe
Maybe not

My mind tells me I deserve to bleed
That it’s okay that it hurts like hell
That it’s good that the blood won’t stop
Because the blood is mine
The blood is of the person who messed up in conversation
The blood is of the one who’s eyes are devastatingly like her father’s
Of the person who got to school 4 minutes late
And for the one who just sat there class while she knew that there was someone somewhere in pain
For the one who wasn’t there to help them

But my mind also asks me
If my blood is the same
as the three year old who’d play
with napkins and pens
Because creative and strange
Is far better
Than bored and average

My mind asks
If the skin that I tear open
Is the same skin
That the 7 year old’s tears poured down on
Because she was starting to understand
That her father’s behavior was not normal

And even though that ******* that is my head told me to my face
That I am unlovable
And that I deserve to bleed
It somehow had the nerve
To make me feel guilty for yet another thing

It told me I was hurting
the little girl who already
Was struggling

And it told me I was hurting
the grandma with grandkids on her lap
Of whom I’m threatening
Deprivation of snuggling

My mind said
That by doing that
I deserved to bleed and suffer even more

And as the pain starts
It asks me again
If it was just me that I’m hurting

My mother holds her head in her hands
I think it's because of me
My mental health
Is not what she wishes it to be

"I'm sorry"
I say in tears
"Okay"
She responds
I'm missing the "it's"

"I'm sorry"
I try again
..
She ignores it

My head explodes of thoughts of guilt
I can't handle it

"What do you want to do?"
She asks after a while
I think to myself
"Die"
But change it quickly
How dare I think that way

I stay silent


My mother is shaking her knee
She's upset
Stressed
She doesn't know what to do with me
I don't either

"I'm sorry"
I sob
"Why?
Why are you sorry, Liana?"
She asks exasperated
Like apologizing was a crime

I don't answer
I don't want to make things worse

I just cry

My mother sighs
I don't know what to do
She's my sane parent
The best thing I have
How dare I hurt her in any way

I want to say sorry
But I am sorry for saying sorry

My head is going to collapse

It turns out that
My room
Or what used to be my room
Still smells of me and my mom painting it on a Saturday afternoon
Even if it's empty

The spot on the wall
"Happiness: an endless chase"
I wrote at 11
Still lives hidden in the corner

A question
I get a kick out of asking people is
What would you do, if you found out that this is all a simulation?
Most people answer
That they would do whatever they want,
Go crazy!
Honestly
Id just keep going along
Maybe with some more experiments
But that's it
Because repercussions are still a thing
And I'm stuck there anyway
Everything remains the same
There is nothing I would know as real
Except what is fake