I've had enough stupid games,
enough of your ******* lullabies
to sing me to sleep
when you know I lay awake staring
at my ceiling wondering
whether or not I should say '**** it'
and throw my life away,
or to say 'oh well' and suffer through
another miserable ******* day
where I have to see your face and know
that behind that smile
is a mother who
cares more for her cigarettes
than her daughters.

So no-
I'm not lending you another cent for your satisfaction.
I'm not going to nod my head along to your half-baked opinions.
I'm not going to let you walk through my life,
ruining every precious thing I have left.

because the secondhand smoke has already destroyed my body,
your words have already destroyed my mind.
I won't let the shattered pieces be picked up and swallowed like the pills that you love shoving down your ashen throat.

A single touch may break me
but still I follow the light,
creeping from the dark
as if my soul could not
be shattered.

I followed,
but never could quite grasp
such a sacred thing.

Life is a bittersweet journey.
No way to predict its outcome,
guided only by the cemented memories of the past.
Everyone leaves there mark on this world,
large, small, wherever it may be.

A warm hand, a soft touch,
the gentle caress of the breeze
as I run fingers through my hair.

Through fire, ice, storms, and grassy plains,
I will keep walking onward,
towards the horizon that calls to me.

The path is steep, there are twists, and turns
and unyielding walls that we must climb to our future
but the view at the top-
it must be beautiful.
It'll all be worth it once I finally reach the peak
of the mountain we call
Life.

I'll get there someday,
but for now,
A day at a time
is all we can achieve.

I'm sick
and tired
of this downward spiral

I'm lost
and helpless
why am I so broken

I reach
you smile
but you never fix my broken pieces

Do you...
even see me?

You've seen me at my worst...
Did you already forget
the talk we had
where I promised to put the razor down?

You never cast a second glance
but I never...
Never stopped looking for a way out.

A pressure's rising within me
Snap. That's how it'll be.

I've plotted a hundred,
thousand, no- a million ways to do it.

I've yet to act on a single one.
But oh, how I long for it.

Face-value lies are my strong suit,
it lets me hide just below the surface.

And if someone really thought to look,
they'd find me.

Sitting in the corner, face twisted
into ugly despair without tears.

The pressure is too much,
like a taught bow-string.

It needs release.
I need relief.

It'd be easy to get some,
the tools are right in front of me.

It's been a long debated scenario in my head,
I can't imagine a life where I live to be over twenty.

Everyone is starting to plan their future without me already,
so why the hell should I bother them?

Friends come and go,
It's not like I'm special in there eyes...right?

But it would leave people haunted,
and they don't deserve to be a part of my burden like that.

No matter how cruel they can be...
The only one I can bring myself to loathe is me.

Staying up till dawn,
thought I was getting better
now I'm back at the bottom.
Don't know how I fell so far
when I was feeling that high
for the first time in ages.

I'm reaching out,
bu my had remains cold
and you remain distant.

Trapped in a house,
my only escape is gone.
There is no sanctuary here,
outside and inside is Hell.

I'm begging on the inside,
screaming without a voice
crying without tears.

Hey,

Could you save me?

You'll never know what's on my mind,
it's everything I've tried to hide.
I think I've failed-
Could you tell me why?

All the frustration of being alone,
All the desperation when I'm with others.
It's a constant push and pull,
I'm begin torn apart.

Where I am now,
with no one around.
It's so peaceful and calm and
So...Empty

Where I was before,
surrounded on all sides,
a tiny box of linked together hands
confining, restricting,
too crowded.

Where's the in between?
The middle that I crave?
I've only been there once...
but only in my dreams.
I don't even have those now,
So imbalanced by nature.
One's too little,
two's too many.
where's that point five?

There is nothing like waking up exhausted.
You want to go back to sleep, but you can't.
You aren't sure if you were asleep to begin with.
You had laid in bed for so long in a half-asleep haze
that you can't be sure whether you finally slipped into your dreams or not.

But going by how miserable you feel,
trying to force tired limbs out of bed
while your eyes want to close for just a little while longer,
You can only assume the answer.

What time did you wake up anyway?
3 or 4 in the morning?
What time did you go to bed?
9 O'clock?
You should feel less tired,
but the reality is that you took three hours of tossing and turning,
praying for sleep,
before finally slipping into it for just a few
scarce moments before you're
jerking back away at some ungodly hour
just to spend the next two trying to fade away again.

And then you have to get up.

Somewhere, you have a home.
Somewhere, someone will miss you.
Somewhere, somewhere, somewhere-
Well I'm sick of it!

I'll never have a home,
And I don't want people waiting for me!

I want people to accept my actions.
I want people to leave me be...
I want them to continue on like normal when I'm gone.

Or maybe that's just because it's all I've ever known.

There are many places
I wander at night.

Some are made of mist,
Some are made of ashes,
Some are made of glass.

There are many places
I remember at night.

Some are a distant memory,
Some never existed,
Some will fracture at the slightest touch.

They always told me
"Life is something to cherish"

But I never learned the difference between
Surviving and living,
I never saw anything in myself worth saving.

How are you?
I have nothing left to give you.
You have taken each breath, memory, and tear I have to offer;
and you have destroyed it.

Dear Agony,
What do you want?
You have taken everything!
I am nothing now, all thanks to you.
So please, leave me alone for once in my life.
I don't want any more.
I don't want anything.

Dear Agony,
You aren't leaving, are you?
You're going to stay with me until my dying breath.
You are going to haunt me long after, too.
Fine. Okay. Do whatever you want,
I'm too numb to care now anyway.
Just another thing you've stolen from me.

Dear Agony,
Will you please end it all?
You are the only thing that has stayed by my side,
Granted, I didn't want you.
And I still don't want you.
But I'm stuck with you,
so could you help me, just this once?
Take away all that makes me, me.
I don't want to be me right now.

Dear Agony,
Why?
Why is it that the only things you've left me
are hate, anger, and self-loathing?
Why do I have to suffer because of you?
Why do I have to hurt those around me because-
I. Can't. Be. Rid. Of. YOU
YOU are the problem.
YOU. Not me...
Please...God, don't let the problem be me.

Dear Agony,
Are you happy now?

It's a bitter dance with fate.
He twirls me and I reply by stepping on his toes,
because I can't dance to such a foreign beat.
And fate is whisking me away,
moves unreliable and messy,
barely better at dancing than I am.

This can't last forever.
Eventually, we'll grow tired
of the confusion and unpredictable moves
each other will make.
And we'll break away to take our own steps,
off the dance floor and towards the buffet
where we gorge ourselves on the future
we choose for us.
The things we know will be what we want.
Fate cannot control us here,
He cannot lead us away on a mystical journey
going off into the misty evening.
At least, not until we open our eyes and realize:

We always come back to the dancefloor.
and Fate comes in many forms.

"Could you spare a moment?
I need to talk to you,
it's important."

"Not right now,
I'm busy.
Can we talk later?"

"Oh, okay."

And we never talk.

All these memories are full;
weighted down by iron bars
that lock and trap.
wrapping chains around me,
but I let them.

Too wild to be tamed,
Too alone to be sane,
but you looked at me
and you smiled-
oh god, you smiled.

Too scared of trying,
not understanding the meaning of family
until you took my hand
and I know what you're doing,
but by some miracle-
by some twisted miracle,
I let you.

You weigh me down now,
long after you're gone.
These chains never rust,
they never loosen.

I let myself be captured by your love.
And I'm still not sure if I regret it or not,
but you taught me how to feel.
And sometimes I wish you hadn't,
because these feeling that are inside me
are far from the malleable, soft thing that I've become.
Far from the person you turned me into.

They are sharp edges
and strong, unyielding walls.
They plunge me into a current
and I don't know how to swim.
So I take it all, floating along
without your guidance.

You taught me these things-
and then you left before you were done.
You've left me to smooth out the edges on my own
but you never taught me how.

You are my ghostly apparition in the night,
appearing when I close my eyes.
I don't know if I'm dreaming,
or if this is the cold, hard reality.
I'm sorry-
I can't finish that sentence,
I need to say it. I need to-
Deep breaths.
One...Two...Three
I'm sorry that you feel the need to be with me.
There. I said it.
I am sorry that you are watching over me.
I am sorry.
I need to tell you something.
Are you here?
I can't feel you anymore.
Please, have you left me alone?
I'm grateful, I truly am.
But you need to go now.
I don't need to be watched over any longer,
your job is done.
I-
No, I can't say it.
Oh, Vengeful Spirit,
apparatus of my despair.
I-
I love you, but you don't belong here-
with me.
I don't know who you are,
but I ask of you-
No, I'm begging you,
Let me go.

I've learned not to love
But to keep my heart close just in case
someone thinks it'd be fun
to cradle it and leave it in the ground.

I've learned not to hate
but to keep my anger at the ready just in case
I need to defend my loneliness
and keep others from getting to close.

I've learned to fear
but to never let it show just in case
someone takes it and mocks me
for being terrified of what others love.

I've learned not to hold a grudge
but never forget just in case
they do it again and again and again,
and I promise not to let them back in.

I've learned these things at the tender age of sixteen,
and these rules I set for myself I never follow.
I set up protectors, walls that keep out what I fear
but I crave the pain and darkness that comes along uninvited
when I roam past my walls into uncharted waters
and bypass every wall and rule I've set up
to keep my heart safe.

So people come and they cradle my heart
and then they leave it in the ground.
So people I want to love, I come to hate
because my anger goes out of bounds
and my loneliness is my sanctuary of calm and self-loathing
that I cannot just forget about.
So people know my fears
and they trample all over them when they forget,
when they don't care, when they become selfish
and spiteful, and arrogant, and ignorant.
So I hold the grudges, but I still let them back in
knowing that the same thing will happen.
But my self-worth is lower than Hell
so I crave the pain it brings because it reminds me that I am here,
still serving my punishment for living in such a world.

The day of love
Ahh, can you feel it in the air?
The answer is no.
No, you can't.
Because you are single, not taken,
and nobody around you is exuding love in an aura
because that is impossible for the human race to do so.
SO no, Valentine's day is not a day of love.
It is a day of eating chocolate
and is the same as you've ever been.

With shaking hands I grasp yours
I cannot run away.
You are lying ever colder now,
You're sleeping through the day.

And at night, you shall rise
from your body, through the roof
to the sky, where you shall lie
But I need to see the proof.

They say Heaven's where you'll be,
but you see, I don't believe
all I hear are all the lies
When I look into their eyes.

But if it's true, then I cry
Because I won't see you again.
And I know, you'll say I'll go to Heaven too.
But if Heaven is a place,
I'll never grow my wings.
I'll be dragged straight down, into Hell.

With these silver threads, I spin
a lie so elegant and beautiful
no one can help but to just see it at face value.

With this loom of gold the stories told,
so untrue, yet so revealing.
yet they never blink or criticize
because they're seeing, but not hearing

This display of fear is nothing more
than an illusion, just an act.
And with every replay I say,
Take a bow, this fear's a fact.

And this circus of my insomnia
will not let anyone look away.
They'll be captivated and sleepless
by the time they close their eyes.
But again, they'll never wonder
if they're as tired as I'm.

Such a display of character
Must simply be rejoiced.
But they never wonder, or ever doubt
If I ever got a choice.

If they only knew what goes on in my mind
Ever since I could breathe, they would be
astounded by the darkness in my skull.

If they only saw what was racing through my thoughts
every time I open my eyes, they would beg me
to keep them closed tight.

The high road of life was never meant for me to take
when I fall through the cracks, slipping
on the wetness created by my eyes.

I look at all my scars, closing my eyes once, then twice
then never wanting to open them. Horrible reminders
on my heart and soul and skin
that remind me that I think I am worthless.

This high road has been lowered
and I am dangling over the edge of all that I am
and all that I ever will be.

So I am now faced with a decision:
Let go, or claw my way back up to the solid ground.
I think you know which one I'll end up choosing.

I would write to you
if you would reply to me
But if they ever saw these letters
then who would I be writing to?

I write a page at a time
only ever staring blanky a few moments
and then picking up the pencil
and letting my hand glide over paper,
But who am I writing to?

Am I writing to myself
or am I writing to my fallen dreams,
my fading memories
of a time I once longed for,
but can never reach.

Am I writing to the person I wish I was?
This person is an imposter
a fake; an intruder
whose sole purpose is to let them never
see the real me.
So they only know the perfectly flawed,
but never enough to take action.

I think I write to both,
a desperate cry for someone to heal me
with their fingertips drying my tears in the night
after another bitter fight that leaves me hollow
and lets me fade away into restless sleep
as my tears leave trails on my cheeks.

Save these stolen treasures
for a woman who can love them.
Save this simple love song
for a girl who knows how to sing them.

A girl who isn't me,
a girl who can laugh, young and free
unburdened by the weight
of the world.

Save these candy apples
for a woman who makes you smile
Save these sunkissed hands
for a girl who can hold them

A girl who isn't me
a girl who can love, faithfully
a girl whose heart is beating
red and full

I'd give away those treasures
I don't know how to love
My laugh is bittersweet, and oh so wrong.
I'm crippled by the weight
of this world's torment and hate
I can't make you smile
I'm not yours to hold.

But if I was bold,
then maybe
I'd have a chance
to learn how these feelings inside me
could learn to change.
Maybe then my heart would beat,
so beautiful and sweet;
but alas,
I doubt that dream will ever be seen.
At least not by me.
But for you,
this dream shall come true
just as long as you leave me
alone.

You're not going far
With that scarred mind of yours.
Oh, I beg to differ
I'll build myself upon my hatred
Of mankind.
I'll build myself and tear into my soul,
extracting words I've never told
And laying my soul bare
for all to gawk at.
This is a gateway to my future
Of suffering that I will let define me
For the sole purpose of entertaining others
With my faults and mistakes.

There is a delicate innocence
in a young season.
One where they are just beginning
untainted by the coming days and the rush
of all the things that must change.
Unburdened by the falling leaves, or the growth of flowers
or the fall of snow on a winter evening.

But as the seasons age, they lose that innocence.
Leaves no longer bear the vibrant colors of Autumn.
Spring no longer grows such beautiful flowers,
whose petals are so soft
like silk, or a lover's touch.
Winter brings forth harsh blizzards and ice that forces
everyone into hiding
as they wait out just one of many winter storms.
Summer brings forth days too hot to do anything,
drought and sunburn, heatstroke and general uncomfortableness.

As the seasons die, they give birth to the next season,
innocence born anew in a never-ending cycle
of naivety, then suffering, then the long waited for relief.
A season never stays, and you cannot follow it.
But at the same time, you know
that it will always come back to you in the end.

Seasons are much like humans, no?
We are born so delicate, full of an untainted fragility
that people swoon over
wanting for that innocence to never fade.
But as we grow, that innocence turns to
bitterness, greed, anxiety, and the wish
for the next season to come along and save them from this
the boring, monotonous day that never ends.
And as we grow even older, acceptance rolls around
and we begin to regret the things we never did in life.
But for some of us, the season ends far too soon.
and unlike the seasons, we can never come back.

Everyone wants to connect
To carve their scars into one another
and never let them be forgotten
even after they fade from this world.

Everyone wants to be loved and to give love
The one who gave love
never had enough for themself
so they accepted the love from the other
in an endless cycle
of dependance.

Without connection, there is no love
and what is given out cannot be returned.
And then you run low on love
and then you run out.
And you can't get any of it back
ever again.

Opinionated; selfish; greedy
lazy, too high strung; needy.
not girly enough, tomboy
well guess what, I never asked to be your toy.

"You'll never get anywhere with an attitude like that"
First off, *******, nobody asked for your input.
Trust issues won't let me love
anxiety won't let me sleep

leave me here to burn; the rage is a parasite
and I'm spitting fire at those who get too close to the light
But there's no light here, no it's buried deep inside
getting weaker by the day, a classic case of suicide

Maybe then you'll regret it because I know I sure have
The way you talk to me, but that's how it's always been.
You start the fight, only ending when one of us end up in tears
is this how a mother and daughter are supposed to act?

I've never known any different,
paranoia watching my back like it's **** or be killed.
though I guess it is; my mind tries to suffocate me in thoughts too deep.
I can't swim, not in the tar that invades my skull,
filling my nose and leaving a bitter aftertaste in my mouth.

I don't know how to vent, bottles filled with trapped darkness
swirling in vortexes that get stronger
until the bottle bursts in a dangerously beautiful explosion
that leaves my world spinning and my mind fragile like the shards
that I'm left to pick up all on my own.
even paranoia has deserted me.

instead, I am greeted by a friend named Depression,
who invites over Tired, and Anxious, and Apathetic,
Pathetic.
Is this how it's always gonna be?
No way to get help.
No way to release the demon inside me without consequence?

No help from the family who knows
the family who witnessed firsthand
the scars, the pain, the anger
the hurt.

I guess they're as shallow as I am empty.

What is hatred
if not a feeling so strong it
rips apart the seams of love?

What is love
if not a feeling so strong
it can mend the broken pieces of a heart?

What am I
if not a girl with a dream
too large for her skull?

When the sky turns golden
with the colors of a setting sun
let all be beholden
before the night is done.

When the grass starts to wither
and the frost nips your nose
He bids you, "Come hither!"
or as the saying goes.

The clip-clop of hooves that trot
on a paved cobbled road
Onward you ride, but all for naught
teary-eyed, lines toed.

Racing forth to outrun disaster,
there's nothing now, not even laughter,
the darkness rains, He yells 'Faster!"
trying in vain to chase after.

The dust has settled
She's gone on ahead,
Oh how long she has battled,
with the demons in her head

The human experience
is one that is a complex journey.
We must search for it.
Looking high and low,
near and far,
in the distant past,
in the ever-nearing future.
We never stop looking

I'm sweating and shaking
I don't know why,
my mind is quaking,
I'm too scared to try

My chest feels tight,
my legs are weak,
Too lost to fight,
too frightened to speak.

The noise, it drowns
the voices that are near
My head, it pounds
there's a ringing in my ear

The moment passes,
when I see my friend,
"We love you,"
"You don't need to pretend"

With blackened fingertips,
I swallow my tears.
Ink cascading with steady drips,
I jot down all my fears.

Will I be forced off the beaten path,
that I've traveled for years?
Will I still remember how to laugh,
Or will it be a memory to my ears?

The noise is white and static hums,
I cannot concentrate.
The measure of all my emotions, like drums
I bash them down with hate.

I do not think you understand,
how toxic you've become.
Dangling above the land,
from here I have been strung.

A broken puppet on display,
With a chipped porcelain face.
Cut me down, and here I'll lay,
With shaking hands I trace.

I trace the walls of this home,
filled with longing and desire.
I'm broken, yet I still will roam,
'Till my mind burns in this fire.

I never asked for much
It wasn't worth enough
It wasn't worth the rush I'd feel
upon getting what I always wanted.

I never wanted much
what I had was good enough
What I had would make do
it's better than asking you

I never wanted to say
that I was not okay
but when you look at me
you don't even see me

You're too focused on
the ****** show you put on
Just to make us look away
and never ask for anything

it's the ultimate form
of grade A distraction
a natural reaction to
everything we don't want to hear

And when I look at you
and the stupid **** you do
I want to scream at you to
stop, and take a look at life

You're throwing it all away,
and dragging us down with your sinking ship
You're burning it to the ground
the life I wished we could have lived.

So Mother, put the ashtray down
Listen to me when I tell you what I've found
I don't want to live on earth anymore
but you turn away without a glance
and walk out the door.

Did you ever hear my cry for help?
I've done it once before and you never helped.
I can't be bothered to trust you again
when you take a look at my life and don't care
that I want it to end.

Where has the love gone?
Am I unwanted?
Am I broken?
I've spent countless nights awake,
dying to live and living to die.

Where has the time gone?
Am I worthless?
Am I useless?
I lie in bed, wishing on stars
But unable to see them shine.

Where has my mind gone?
Am I insane?
Am I depressed?
I count the sheep
but they always run in circles.

Where has the happiness gone?
Am I afraid?
Am I angry?
I watch the moments pass
but I stay frozen in a place where I hate myself.

Where has the sun gone?
Am I alone?
Am I lonely?
A  crowd surrounds me,
But I'm alone in my world.

Am I broken?
Am I useless?
I'm a waste of space without a purpose.
There's nothing for me to save.
There's no one to save me.

Please, somebody help me
I'm losing my mind.
I'm drowning in the countless lies
I've told myself
it would be alright
but it's not.
I'm not.
Please.
Someone.
                                Save my Broken Mind.

I'm searching for an answer
but I already know the outcome
of my questions.

Another death swept under the rug
billions of people,
not a single one made a sound.

What's the difference between celebrities and normal people, huh?
What in the world is wrong with us?
Are we not important?
Are we replaceable?

People are despicable.
We are the invaders.
An invasive species of the whole world,
destroying everything that is beautiful
and replacing it with synthetic material
to make us feel better
but never helping.

I'm one person among billions.
and I know i'm not the only one
who thinks this world is on the verge of a breakdown.
The question I mentioned,
I think I found it.

Why does it matter?

The answer:
Because aesthetics matter more than the well being of anyone. If they look 'okay' they can't be hurting. They can't be in pain. They're just lying.

The outcome:
A world of lies and cheating and stealing,
all based on how the world sees us
and not how we want to live.

What is the point?
Who the hell wants to live like this,
if live at all?
I'd much rather face down a pack of starving animals
than take on a group of people.
Because animals don't care about the color of your hair or the quality of your makeup, or the brand of your clothes.
They are creatures of instinct.
They are creatures of family, balance, bonds.
Whereas we are creatures of pain and torment.
Where did our evolution go wrong, I wonder.
Because I don't think we were meant to be like this at all.

Dusting off the chains
that wrap around this heart.
Polish them until they shine
so golden in the dark.

chains so strong,
they can withstand time
and everything that
tries to break them.

Chains so bright,
it's all anyone ever sees
and they turn away
from the real treasure underneath.

If they fall with just one look
I'm sure it's the gold
that's got them hooked.
And you'll leave them in the dust.

But if they see past the fool,
to the darkness deep below.
And search until they find your heart
then they'll hold your soul.

And pray to God
that they truly care
for if they make it far
a single word would be enough
to tear you from the dark.

A little bit of sugar
a tiny pinch of salt
A couple of spoonfuls of cinnamon.
I single chocolate drop
throw it in some flour
and add a cup of milk
That is how you bake something
I hope that it did help.

Now mix the ingredients, until they blend so well
and you'll have a mixture
that looks as delicious as it smells.
Then put it in the oven
set it to bake
take it out when the timer dings
and you'll have yourself a cake.

When you wish upon a star
just to forget who you are,
what does that say
about this girl wasting away?

To keep you in my life
was such bitterness and strife.
I pushed you away from me
because you were close enough to see

To see the scars painted in my head
and the thought I wished would just stay dead.
And when I go to bury you
there's very little I can do.

You spark a light so dark within
maybe I should let you win.
But the light burns me from inside
And from your love, I run and hide.

I don't know why I am this way,
But please, don't go away.
I need this love, so little I've had
even if it feels so bad.

It's not your fault I feel this way
the earth wanted my mind to decay
I stay awake through the night.
wishing I could stand the light.

What would happen I took a step?
Would I burn and wither where I slept?
I want to try so desperately.
But I'm terrified of all that may be.

So take my hand and guide me there.
away from this world of despair,
This house is a fun-house of slaughter
Because they can't take care of their daughter

If I could steal your love for myself
I would just keep it on a shelf
so I could look at it every day
and know that it hadn't faded away

If I could catch a glimpse of you
I don't know what I'd say or do
for when the night is cold and dark
your eyes light within me, a spark.

I'm so sorry that I never said
to those eyes that I wished to be dead
But now everything is so crystal clear
it's too late now to shed a tear

I've lost you to bittersweet pain
it's like I'm dancing in the rain
my favorite weather, my only tune
what's left of my heart, has fallen to ruin.

You've left me here, in this dark place
suffocated by your face
I'm sinking so low, amidst an ocean of black
and I don't know if I'm coming back

So please, hear me scream
please, know my dream
has never involved you
I was to blind to see what I needed to do.

I'm gone now, so don't be afraid
My suffering has been repaid
I didn't mean to leave you in the cold
but this emptiness was where my soul was sold.

Come, my love
let us drift out to sea
where the storm rages on
and we're too blind to see

Come, my fear
let us be washed away
where we cannot come back
to the light of the day

Come, my anger
let it be one with me
let it overtake everything
and every memory

Come, my emotions
there's no time to waste
I'm numb to your feeling
I just want a taste

Come, my numbness
my hollow,
my empty,
my sorrow

Come, my hatred
of myself
and everyone else
and take it from me, I know

There will come a time
in your life
where these emotions
are right by your side

But when you blink
and turn to sleep
they'll be gone
like the dew
in the morn'

Desolate
synonymous to:
Barren
Wasteland
Empty

Forgotten
Synonymous to:
My life
My existence
My happiness

Joyful:
The Antonym to:
My brain
my love
my head

Loved,
Something that I do not feel
Something that I don't remember the warmth of
Something I will never have

A glance at the clock can't tell me
the nanosecond it takes
for the thoughts to seep through my head,
and let me know that I am nothing.

A ticking time bomb can't relate
to the raging inferno
that burns up every good feeling I ever have
and makes me feel cold in the heat.

A sad song can't tell me
that everything is okay.
Because everything is not okay,
and I'm too terrified to even think.

I'm too terrified to ask for help,
because they won't believe me,
and if they do, that means I have to
tell them what I think.
And I can't think past the fire in my skull,
or the music at the forefront of my mind.

I can't tell them that every time I close my eyes
I imagine each way I could die.
I imagine the pain and feel it rush through me
in the form of excitement,
and fear,
and anger.

Because I just can't accept that part of myself
to be true.
Because I wish it wasn't,
and I don't want anyone to see that side of me.

My thoughts smash through my skull,
bursting forth with a stream of words
that I can neither control nor stop.
Why was I created this way?
It is still never what I want to say.
No, that is reserved for the paper in which
I spend my days hiding in.
Diving into the endless recesses of my mind
to scratch and dig and pick out
a single strand of pain that filters
through the rest of my body,
so that I can feel raw and unbridled
as I scratch ink on the paper
in a scrawl that is nearly ineligible
not even I can read it.
So instead I let my fingers
go numb from gliding across keys,
so that all may hear my scream
instead of taking that pen and inking my arm
in red, red ink.
So much ink that it passes my skin and bleeds into my veins
just to mingle with the blood
and flow back out in rejection
of all that I was, and all that I am.

Surely no one is meant to live like this?
Not meant to live in constant fear and pain,
waiting for the evening just for it to rain?

Surely it doesn't make that much sense,
to live in constant regret and sorrow,
unable to make it till tomorrow.

The days pass in a misty haze,
but you are still waiting for the sun.
The stars are vacant in the sky,
but you still wait for them to burn.

Why do you waste away in such a place?
Where your skin is unmarred,
but your heart bears all your scars?

Why must you stay here, broken,
like a porcelain doll that is so, so, fragile.
One touch could break you.

You beg for someone to look below the surface
of the ever-constant ocean in your mind.
But they only dip their feet in the water,
because it is much too cold to stick their head under.

Surely no one is meant to live like this?
Merely surviving until their death.
Never take more than a needed breath,
only an empty shell, uninhabited by any meaning.

I want to scream,
what do your words mean?
My soul's been beaten down,
I can't keep going round and round.

So I, lay my head down to rest.
Wait to take my final breath.
In my ears, the music pours
and it rains, down on me.

I, need to see, need to be
the one next to you.
I, need to live, need to set
the world on fire
my desire is not what everyone else wants to believe
Please, please, please, just set me free.

I want to bleed
need to see, the blood dripping down
I need to close my eyes
and never open them to your lies

So I, lay my soul down to rest
get the **** out of my head
I can't go round and round
with you anymore

I, need to see, need to be
the one next to you.
I, need to live, need to set
the world on fire
my desire is not what everyone else wants to believe
Please, please, please just set me free.

I'm waking up, from this nightmare
But it only gets worse
I'm sinking down into the lies
of the world.
Wake me up, to misery

I, need to see, cannot be
the one next to you
I need to die, one more time
let the fire fill my veins
my desire is not what everyone thinks it is
please, please, please just set me free.

In a mysterious new world
she wanders, confused.
Not yet understanding
all the fine print.

She speaks in a foreign tongue
but smiles brightly
as if nothing could ever
take her from the stars.

Sunday never came for me.
Straight from Saturday to Monday.
No church for me, no,
I'm forsaken by God.

The devil's on my shoulder
the days are growing colder.
the nights are getting longer
Yet Sunday never comes.

I pray for a different life
I hate living in constant strife
I don't want the life that has been chosen
But Sunday never comes.

I'm not a believer
I've never been one.
So maybe that's why,
Sunday will never come.

In the world of a girl, me,
there is always a story
waiting between the pages of life.

In every word, in every scene,
I catalog and dissect the meaning
of everyone and everything.
Like some sort of word scientist.

But life isn't always sunshine and rainbows,
sometimes it storms, and there is only grey.
I quite prefer the rain to the rainbow.

But I am not like everyone else,
who gossip about boys and sports
whilst putting on a pound of makeup in the morning.
I am...different.

And in this world, the difference is frowned upon.
So what if I dye my hair odd colors?
So what if I'm a girl with hair short like a boys?
That doesn't make me anything less.
I am more than they could ever imagine.

Just because I sit outside in the rain
or eat my lunch alone, headphones injecting lyrics into my skull
that only I can understand the meaning of
because my brain is my own, not anyone else.

And I don't care that I prefer the company of fake people on screens,
just so I can escape my miserable existence in the real world.
I don't care that I fight every single day just to make it through
and then realize I have to do it all again in the morning.

I don't care. Because I stopped caring a long time ago.
I stopped caring when my own brain decided to rob me
of everything I held dear and turned everyone against me.
I'm just a story in my own head, playing out like a badly written movie.
But that's okay.
Because I wouldn't mind it if I was just a story among millions.
That still means that somewhere,
someone is reading it.