How dare you have the audacity
To tell me I don't know what pain feels like.
How dare you tell me I don't understand what it feels like to lose someone.
How it feels to lose something
You cared for so much.
How dare you tell me I don't know what it feels like to feel so much pain that you need more of it in order to feel less.
How dare you tell me I don't know how it feels to have my head under water with no way out.
How dare you tell me I don't know what it is to struggle with tempting depression or crushing anxiety.
How dare you tell me I don't get it.
How dare you tell me I can't ever get it.
How dare you tell me I can't understand it.
How dare you tell me I don't understand the pain of losing your life without stopping your heart.
Because I do.
And I will.
It's called life.
And all you can do is get through it
with your scars.

Chances.
How many do you get?
How many do you want?
You can take them.
Or you can steal them.
But who do you steal them from?

Only so many are given.
It's advised not to push the limits.
Although there are all too many gimics.
Of chances I mean.
How do you know when you get one?
How do you know when you loose one?
Often you're told,
often they're sold.

They're traded from person to person.
Given, taken, stolen, awakened.
Sometimes people don't want to give them.
Because maybe you took too many.
Maybe you just took them without asking.
People don't like that,
When you take things without asking.
It makes them feel used.
A feeling all too common I see.

If you take a chance.
You can choose the size.
It's best advised,
you measure it.
Because from time to time,
People don't.
They let someone else choose for them.
You don’t want the wrong size
Not everyone knows your size
That’s why you’re supposed to choose for yourself
You can't wear clothes that are too big.
You'll look foolish.
That's why you return them.
But you can't return chances.
There are no receipts.
No repeats.
Only advances,
To places that lead to more chances,
If you’re lucky.

Chances are not redos.
So don't dare think they are.
Or you'll look foolish in your oversize suit.
During your life long commute.
People always remember the ones you take.
And especially the ones you steal.
So don't trip on your pride.
Because soon it'll be the only thing you’ve got.

The anger he just made me feel
Was dipped in stone and coated in steal
Burning sensation in my heart
Pulling my feelings dead apart
I wish to never feel this way
No matter how much I ever change
Every time I feel this way
I wish to never feel again

I always surprise myself with the physical pain
Of this mental feeling brought by this insane part of me.

Surely I’m not the only one?

The more you take the more you leave behind.

The more you love the more you lose your mind.

The more you hate the more that you’re denied.

The more you fear the more you walk the line.

The more you hurt the more your mind declines.

If you never tell anyone, it never happened.
If there were no witnesses, it never happened.
If people say it didn't happen,
then it didn't, even if it did.
This is why not all people are an open book.
Not everyone wants you to read all their pages.
Because unfortunately, you can't rip out pages
of your own book.
Because if you don't tell anyone, it never happened.
Why did you tell your mom that you never had ***, when you knew that you have?
Because it never happened.
Why did you tell your boyfriend that you were okay, when you knew very well, that you were absolutely not?
Because it never happened.
Why did you tell your therapist that you've never tried drugs, when you know you have?
Because it never happened.
Why did you tell your best friend you were feeling better, when you knew nothing would make you feel better?
Because it never happened.
If you don't tell anyone, it never happened.
If no one knows, it never happened.
As long as you can bury it,
deep down inside yourself,
and never let the truth surface,
It . Never . Happened .
It . Never . Happens .
It's . Never . Happening.
You're fine.
Right?

There's glass on the ground,
I can't remember why.
I look all around and up at the sky.
The clouds have covered the sun.