i slip down this slippery ***** with her, and look her in the eyes just after our bodies slam into the gravel at the bottom of that steep *****.
and i slam her face against the ground, over and over and over again.
until it is just broken skull fragments, and mush for a brain,
and i stumble back,
realizing the damage i just did,
so i run.
and fall.
and crumble.
to laughter.
hysterical laughter.
she is gone.
but, she had already been gone, her carcass is now ruined.
what a good job i have done.
now she cannot return.
yet,
when i awake
she is still
there
looking back
at me
in that mirror
that seems to always mock me.

The doors are locked
My shutters closed
Beneath the ground I lay
Hiding away
From the terror and calamity
This defense is quite flawed
Here I lay in the field
As the wind blows above and grass itches at my sides
My eyes are open
My mind is quiet as I ignore the recollection of what I mean
Of who I am
Of why I am this way
And
I ignore it all
Breath they whispered
And so I did.

w
h
y

d
o

y
o
u

love

m
e

?

w
h
y

d
o

y
o
u

hate

m
e

?
­

a
n
d

w
h
y

d
o

i

care
?

i haven't visited this blank screen in quite a while
i would like to travel through the spaces between my words and letters and phrases and meanings
i would like to dream through the endless possibilities of creativity
i would like to succeed

I look around and see smiles
A resting face
A quiet one
A calm one
All sorts of faces.
Everyone talking to each other,
With each other
Right there
But everyone is so far away.
They rate you and review you
And everyone likes you
Yet everyone is so disappointing.
The “friends” here are not that at all

and you see it may be my fault,
I'm so use to being hurt,
that it doesn't surprise me anymore.
I shouldn't expect you to hurt me, I shouldn't be to scared because one more fall could make me go for it
I shouldn't expect you to not insult me every couple of minutes, I shouldn't expect them to not laugh.
and now im use to it.
im use to your repeating comments, and little jabs.
im use to feeling this way, and maybe that's why im afraid.
why would one want to find happiness when every time she has, the fall wasn't worth it?
why is it that I cannot simply be standing in a hallway without people saying **** to me?
you say im annoying and that's your reason,
you say im the one you let all your anger out on
you say just because I don't like you
you say because you have a personality.
so
you for the last time you can all go **** yourselves
because hey like you said
I am nothing
so why is it I impact you?
why is it that my presence has so much ******* power over you, that you are so uncomfortable that you feel the need to insult me?
because hey I am nothing after all just like the rest of you.

if I took so many pills would I finally fade away
if I ran would they find me
if I dropped, and cried, and let the watch as my final bits of dust flew away, would they see?
if I tied rocks to my feet and jumped would I be found,
if I tied this rope around my neck, and kicked the chair out from under me, would they feel the desperation in my last gasping breaths? will
I finally
be able to exhale?
if I cut all the way, vertical, would I feel the blood leak out of me?
would I feel as if I had found my freedom, once and for all?
if I dared to whisper a word, before I pulled the trigger,
what would I say?
shall I find out?
shall we?
if you opened your eyes what might you see?

Have you ever lost an intimate partner to a drug overdose?
A drug overdose that was most likely a suicide but is not known for sure?
How do you keep losing people when you are fighting so hard to stay yourself?

the father.
who buys beer, over the needed milk,
the one who screams and yells of ******* hating life so much,
the father who talks and wishes of suicide,
the father who says he loves you but regrets having children in all,
the father who explains to the daughter that indeed, she will never be the favorite.
that she will never be good enough in either of their eyes,
that she is as good as ****.
The mother.
who is jealous of her daughter.
the one who, can't bare to look at her daughter.
the mother who screams, and threats, and pushes the daughter just down so much farther down.
into the suffocating water,
that drowns out her every wail for help.
the one who has no idea of the scars that bare her daughters body.
The mother who loves the others, oh so much more, the ones who have yet to finally disappoint her the way the daughter had.
the Brothers.
the sister.
all mixed up in pain, confusion, and love.
The family portrait is all smiles,
where everyone is in the pleading hands of suicide, the all to addicting poison of their choice, and all covering it up.
all in one house.
posing for the camera, and looking as if they are happy.
because that is what they were trained to do.

Lonely is a feeling I haven’t felt in a long time
A wave that rolls in slowly but so powerful
It is deep
And makes me fear for the future
If I am lonely now
How will I ever meet someone that accompanies my heart the way you did?
Will anyone be able to touch and see and feel me the way you could?
Will I feel connected and understood for the things I do not want to talk about?
Or will I feel this lonely for eternity

Sometimes I wonder
How did I make it this far?

Loosing hope in the man you love is a disappointing feeling like no other.

I realized today that it's been about 6 days of summer, and I wish I was back in school already.

you are a mistake
go cut yourself
go **** yourself
you are nothing
you are a failure
you are fat
your are revolting fat disgusting nasty
you are stupid
go away
go die in a hole
you are a mistake a mistake a mistake
they regret you
you are nothing
you are nothing at all
a failure
...
chuckles
laugh
the teacher looks away quickly
...
that one girl gives you a sheepish look
...
he continues.
they laugh.
...
you are silent.
...
he knows.
...
he is aware.
...
she is hiding, but he found her.
...
it is done.
...
they are gone.
...
the voices they stay.
...
her smile still intact
...
...
...
home.
...
no one is home.
...
...
...
the gun its downstairs, the knife that big one its in the drawer.
why not appease them?
all her medication just sitting there.
...
...
...
it is done.
they are gone.
the voices they remain.
the glances they stayed away.
...
...
...
and still she is here.
with that oh so big smile.
...
yet, why are they all looking for her body?
...

Give yourself the value you see in everyone else for once
Love yourself the way you want to be loved
Praise yourself the way you praise your friend
Be proud the way you are of your little sister
Respect yourself the way you respect your God or Idol
Learn to Love Yourself the way you deserve it
You are not less than anyone else
You are everything

I didn't reply so to say goodbye,
I did it because you were like a mosquito that never got enough blood you would **** the life out of me, and unlike the mosquito I loved you while you did it.
I loved you because whenever I was with you I felt whole, and good enough, and you made me feel again.
but I had to say goodbye.
I had to let myself try to get better on my own.
because I cannot let you heal me, and then leave.
because I knew from the moment my heart felt okay again, that that kind of high would result in a fall,
I wouldn't be able to get up from.
but I didn't reply so to say goodbye,
but it's not helping.
it's oh so much worse.
and they all say its for the best but, no no, what if it's for the worst?
im screaming inside,
my throat is raw,
my voice is no longer here,
it has faded out,
to nothing, like oh so many other things today,
I miss you, so much that I cannot put it into words.
They all said it was for the best, now im a better person.
but you helped,
I could feel okay at some points,
thats worth anything, right?
shouldn't other people who love you want you to be happy?
but, I suppose I agree with them. I suppose being happy at this point would cause my late nights to be more than just pills and a blade.
but, now that he is gone, now that I said goodbye, now that I cannot bring myself to say hello,
I have succumbed to the crash.
and I thought I was bad before but once,
you go somewhere inside of your own head,
where you are the one torturing yourself, and cannot stop,
once that becomes your everything,
and you find someone who made you feel, made your heart flutter,
and then you yourself are the one who gets rid of them, well this is my own fault.
I knew what would happen but somehow thinking, im the one that ended it, it would be better than him saying goodbye?
it is so much worse now.
it is getting to the point where, my smile, my laughter,
aren't covering it,
a point where I truly cannot hold up this façade.
and when people notice, when they say hey, are you okay?
my holy ****,
I drop so much farther down that ******* hole,
I am dragged, pulled to that place where I remember him, and then it is all over from there,
why of course I must escape this ****.

my preconceived notions are dismantled
and i am told i am nothing
i know the refection
i understand
i am found
i was not lost i do not need this search
i was prepared
i was well equipped for my future with
an arsenal of knowledge and
social skills
but

i was not prepared
to go from
social butterfly
embracing her shielding cloak
to a
skeleton
drowning in
solitude
and open air
...
i was not prepared
for infinite opportunity of friendship
and yet
not a single
one has been found
...

The warmth I find in your arms gives me inner peace that is difficult to navigate alone.
The love in your eyes gives me inspiration no beautiful scenery can.
The acceptance that you wash over me is one I will never claim myself.
The grace of you is one I am forever grateful for.

What does it mean to be in a place you’ve dreamt of and still be crying?

When does the pain end?
I don't want it to end cause then I get happy but then I sink down again,
and it's like why are you teasing me happiness?
but if you want to be happy just be happy. Stop thinking and be happy skip, laugh, smile for ***** sake, really smile.
but I can't.
you can.
your just scared to.
so? your allowed to be scared.
Not of things like that be afraid of spiders or something.
I can't.

you asked me what have you learned?
I learned that next time I can't tell anyone that i won't be here tomorrow.
I learned that if I use wrist bands no one will ever know.
I learned that people do see scars on your thighs,
I learned that my "zoning out" can no longer occur.
I learned how to shove a fantastic smile on my face,
I learned how to add light to my eyes,
how to laugh and make you believe it.
I learned how to imitate.
I learned that I will end by myself.
that there will be no goodbye.
I learned that when I say I don't care im beginning to feel it.
because this numbness hasn't gone away in a while.
I learned that it won't go away without help.
And I learned that im not strong enough to ask for help.
So, it is shoved down my throat.
                                              while my smile is plastered upon my face.
I have yet to come up with the answer to your question.
the, WHY?
they plague my mind. But I cannot let this lie waver.
I had already attempted once.
just didn't succeed.
I have yet to find a moment where I don't regret waking up.

And I wonder,
Late at night,
Are these tears worth it?

And when nothing
And no one
Relieves the stress or
Depression
You find alternative methods
In order to feel free

I miss your laugh
The way you smiled
I miss the kissing
The melting into each other
I miss the desire the need
I miss you
And I can’t get you back
What if you were the love of my life and now you are gone?
How do you get over someone that is no longer alive?
I miss you
All the adventures we never had
All the opportunities we missed
I wish you had not left
I wish you were here with me
I wish I had told you I loved you then
I wish I had been enough for you to stay

the bridge
it's sitting out there just out of your reach
so close you can touch it
so tempting you almost dared to jump for it
but that almost
was just a thought

your hope
you were so close to it
you had a taste
and vomited it up just as quickly

your love
to much of a coward to stay
you were there
and you
cut your heart out before he or she had the chance to

your damnation
you waltzed with it, let it linger
you let it infuse with your being
ignorant to its poison

your heaven
you hid
letting the fear
**** your desire
and leave it in the dark

your hell
you thought your "higher than man" self
could out wit the master

your failure
you accepted it
sometimes without acknowledgement

and

your success
you wouldn't take notice

your future, past, and present

dominated by your pathetic
weak
ever so disappointing
"needs"

Depression is the reason you think I am so successful.
I am never good enough.
My grades are never perfect enough
My weight is never low enough
My comments are never witty enough
My photographs are never the best
My poems are never decent
My life is meaningless unless I create massive change.
My life is disposable with each second that passes.
And that is why you think I am such a success.
How odd it is for people to compliment you and be jealous of some things when you youself only do these things because of your depression?
What a conundrum.
How odd it is to inspire another when you are the biggest disappointment you know?
How odd it is to have someone give your life value when you cannot?

Can silence substitute for peace?

They wonder why I think politics are life
And it’s because I see my brothers and me and them and everyone
Your socioeconomic status growing up makes drastic impacts on the opportunity in life you have
Dramatic changes in perception that you are not even aware of
I see how my brother sold drugs to be able to be on his own at 17
I see how thankful I was for my bf at the time to have a place to live
I see how thankful I am for the Army to pay for my school
I see the work and hours myself and coworkers put in
I see the privilege my sister has to use my moms new car as hers has broken down
I see the coworkers at Tops not prioritize education
Graduating high school is not an expectation
I see the privilege in my pocket and my own opportunity
I also see the ability for a friend to not worry about where she will live or how she will get a loan for school
How do people escape poverty if they don’t have anyone to co-sign a loan?
How do you get ownership?
And that ties into an entire discussion on systematic racism and current oppression as well.

I see my friend complain about pumping her own gas in her brand new Jeep her mom bought, and the gas her dad is paying for. I see another friend complain about having a (parent bought) Nissan instead of a Mercedes.

I see my friends and coworkers and siblings sell drugs to make more money because minimum wage jobs simply don’t give you enough. I see them sell, and use. Smoking **** turns into ******* and soon you have more.
I see them use to avoid anxiety and depression because it costs 90$ to see a therapist once a week.
I see my friend boast about how much she has loved therapy her entire life.
I fall in love with a boy who needed drugs to escape reality.
Depression can make you do silly things like get addicted to drugs that can be laced with fentanyl.
Poverty can make you do things like sell drugs, and use them to escape mental illnesses, because you can’t take off work to pay for or even miss for the therapy session you need.
Furthermore, therapy is not even a common recommendation.

It can make you do things like join a military that owns you.

It can make you do things like sell your body or pictures or videos.

It can make you work hard and “be proud of it” and then realize the capitalist pig society you live in.

This is not even direct poverty it is a lower income class that still has several opportunities.

The income gap is much more than just that it is a life gap, an opportunity gap, a smile and happiness gap.

It is quite literally the difference between a living and breathing and thriving Tony, and a dead one.

It is the difference between my brother eating one day or having a place to live the next.

It is the difference between my brothers having their mom alive or not.

And I know the rich or well off can be addicted to coke with therapy, and they have their own issues with family and they can be suicidal despite every comfort and opportunity.

There still lies the difference in every opportunity, the difference in air breathed and health standards, the difference in education and expectations.

The difference in life and choice.
In opportunity or fate.
The rate of work one must put in to get to where another starts is astounding.
And this is only mild in the US compared to other places.

Some would say I should not complain. But how many people will I see from similar backgrounds be addicted or die until something changes?
How many people will I see sit by and do nothing?

I feel like I am in a cycle of failure over and over again.  
I feel overwhelmed.
I am feeling a lot of feelings I do not like or understand.
It is hard work living.

In the midst of your death
I swear I saw the flicker of a smile

This Christmas I have been alone
All by myself
In a new city
With no one near.
All my friends visiting their own family,
And my own 2000 miles away.
I am proud to have made it through the day, and year.
Even though all day I have missed you.
Wished you were here with me.
Even if I could only message you,
Even if I could only be happy you were with someone else.
Even if I just knew you were still breathing.
Would be better than this.
In my head I wonder if all the ache is worth it.
We did not date.
We were not together long.
And yet the moments we shared live infinitely in my mind,
On replay.
Maybe it is a “trauma bond” as I have googled.
Or maybe it is simply that my soul was comfortable with you.
You understood my depression and suicidal desires at the same time as loving me for being successful.
You did not shame me.
You did not make me try to explain why this and why that.
We basked in the shared understanding.
And maybe I was a fool to believe you.
To believe you would stay.
And maybe it was an accident.
It seems almost all my poems end in this now.
If you can even call them poems.

I would say my heart crumbled, broke just a little bit more when I saw you, heard what you screamed into my face, but I can't seem to find my heart.
Because the numbness has kind of won this time.
And the darkness, well it's like a best friend, holding my hand always there.
Just for me.
to fall into.
but this time,
I didn't get back up.
now, expecting this, I can only assume it is my way of finishing it off, before my body actually decomposes.
before they try to awaken my dead heart.
before I see their laughs tear through the raw throats of them all.
Before I hear, the screams for sanity.
before they realize what I had been asking for the whole time.
before they compare me, add me too,
that all to common statistic.

After years of wishing I wasn’t here
After thinking I wouldn’t make it
I’m sitting in my car
Between my workout and the start of the work day
Sipping my iced coffee
And I have found peace
Content
In the questions unanswered
Looking forward to what has not been yet
And reminiscing on what was
Thankful for all that I have
With my hand out to you
I ask you to hold on
Because one day
We will both make it

How are you?
Great!
What’s wrong?
Oh nothing, I just really want to die sometimes. Lol!

I know that you are gone
But I keep swiping
I keep searching
As if I will find you in someone else
As if someone else will be you?

Looking through my old poems
It has hit me that following my break up of 4.5 years
I did not write a single sad poem about missing him
I did the breaking up
I guess for good reason
Because the poems about HIM are from years before the deed was done

What should you call the desire for a best friend that you’ll never ever have?

scavenging in this wasteland i search
i look and unfold
i pick apart
i break open
i crush i smash i ruin
i disassemble
i assemble
i am in search of something
something i cannot place
i look
i hear
i taste
i click
i write
i try
the everlasting search is an ongoing investigation
yet it is an open and close case
the verdict has been made
oh boy i am being so ******* cliche
but how much longer will i search for my question i have not asked

The sound of a beating drum echoes in my mind.
Over and over it goes.
I find myself waiting upon each break, hoping to hear the sound; to remind me that it isn’t hiding and plotting.

And at the same time I feel the relief of a beat-I wish it was an ocean wave or the wind howling at the peak of a mountain or a stream running by or the sound of my sisters laughter.

and I could romanticize it and say that it changes if only you adjust your ears.
But it doesn’t.
It beats on and on and on.
Eventually you learn how to hear both.  

You learn how to remember the joy in sunlight.
You learn how to be grateful each night.
You learn how to take a deep breath, while you wished you weren’t breathing at all.

And you have to chose this every day. Every day you wake up.
You need to chose to remember the things you love. And know that one day you’ll enjoy them again.

You must remember that you are living for everyone who let the drum beat them down.

You are living for everyone who let the drum beat so loud they forgot the sound of happiness.
They couldn’t feel it.
They couldn’t find it.
As if the drummer was beating them instead.

And so I will hold it out to you- a hand.
A friend.
A pair of headphones.  
And the promise to partake in laugher with you once again.

“Don’t forget to be kind to yourself!”

life is passing by,
am i living it?
am i leading it?
am i a passerby in my dreams?
am i a spectator to the ambitions of a ghost?

life is slipping into the sunset,
have i enjoyed my accomplishments?
was i truly in the moment whilst trying to be?
did i let the depression overpower the happiness?

Will I get everything I wanted and continue to feel this way?

Who do you talk to when you need it but the person you depend on is the one who made you upset?