You ever feel inadequate? Like you'll never measure up to others point of view on a certain issue. Well welcome to being human, where above all things you cannot be flawed. Because flaws are viewed as vile things, things to be hidden instead of accepted and anyone who even slightly shows their flaws, they get bullied or hated upon for not being superhuman. And in no ways am I innocent, but after seeing a person being bullied for deciding too keep their innocence. I learned better than to discriminate by a person differences. I learned that our differences are our strengths and not our weaknesses. I learned that if you look beyond the skin, beyond the eyes and behind their grins. You'll see someone for what they are. Life goes on and so should you. Those people who are down-talking you for who you are, are the people who are scared of the people judging them for who they are. So instead of being themselves, they instead go with the flow of a society that has broken peoples hopes. But its not a lost hope to believe in people if you just show them how too cope. How too cope with the people who will want to destroy their goals, it is quite simple really. Take what they say, than look around at the people who have grown close. I can almost guarentee they will outnumber you with physical bodies, but in the end their friends will never hold them when they take anything more than an emotional blow. Your friends will, because they know you. The very real you.

A brief look
A small peek
A neverlasting second
That still breaks me

She calls me her best friend, but when I look into her eyes I see she need way more. She whispers in my ear how she loves me, as if she loves me more than the world should know. Her ex hated me because when he hugged her she felt cold, when she hugs me she felt warm and protected. One time while I walked her too the door, she told me she felt unloved. Almost instantly I stopped her, looked her into her ice blue eyes and told her something I will never tell anyone, ever again.
I told her "I love you more than you will ever know. When I look at you I see your beautiful soul. Your beauty outshines anything I have ever known, and I have known alot of things. I know pain. I know love and I know loss. But never before have I  loved like this. When I am not around you, I think about you. When I cannot see you, my mind forces itself too picture you. I can see how much you need love in your life and its evident in the way you look at me."
And ****** too hell if she didn't start balling into my shoulder, her tears staining my shirt as she told me she loved me. Her tears falling into someone she trusts. Her pale skin glowing softly in the sunlight, her normally ice blue eyes turning electric. Her arms wrapped around my body, wherever her hands touch relaxes my body like no other. I have been with many others but nothing like I want too be with her.
I want to take her out to a grand dinner and dine elequently. I wanna take her to a family dinner and have her meet everybody. I look at her and in a few years time I can see the ring I would put on her.
God....Ugh. I love her. And even as I write this I miss her more than Death misses Life. Even as I type this I want too wrap my arms around her and kiss her.

I am quite impressed, you are a 13 year old who has been through so much pain. But instead of letting that pain turn you to a bad person, instead you turned it into a beautiful gift that only a few will understand. You are quite honestly one of a kind, the kind of person that will, of course in due time be able to spin together words and make something so beautiful that not even the Sun and Moon will be able to compete. You have so many years, if you keep on practicing and learning sooner or later the stars will quiver in fear. Only because the allure you put into it would put all the stars bright shining rays to a deep and utter shame.

Your touch, setting fireworks off under my skin at even the slightest graze of your fingers. The touch that gives me goosebumps and causing my heart too speed up. Beating in my chest harder than a jack hammer, I look her in the eyes and see pure beauty unhampered. I see a set of eyes i could gaze into and get lost in for lifetimes. A dual pair of eyes deeper than any cavern in the sea or in the ocean, this emotion coursing through my blood causing a great commotion. Oh wait, oh god her lips just brushed so very softly against mine, I am pretty sure my heart checked out and has left my chest now. I lean in, passion filling the air, lips locking in a soulful embrace, I brace myself by putting my hands along her waist and I swear to all the angels above she cuddled closer to my chest and abdomen. After what feels like hours, what I so very much want to be hours, we pull away into a locked embrace, my arms going around her in a protective way. Nobody touches my baby when she's in my arms, nobody touches my baby without getting a broken arm.
I Fell In Love.

do you need to sacrifice your life
join the corps
keep your core
end up as a corpse

Her smell still lingers in my sweat shirt. The smell of lilac flowers on a light summers breeze. Her smell in which I could tell it was her even if her arms wrapped around from behind me. Small as a snack, but her eyes as deep as a ocean. Her lips as luscious and soft as a velvet pillow. Her skin as light and smooth as moonlight. The way her eyes dance in the bright morning sun, the way her hair looks when my fingers run through it.

"Brother, Sister, Mother, Lover." says a nurse trying to make me remember.
Brother stands more silent than the dark winter night.
Sister sits sniffling with tears in her eyes.
Mother looks paler than deaths cold touch.
Lover holds my hand spreading no feeling past her touch.
"Cold, Warm, Wet, Dry." once again, a nurse so calm states in a calm monotone.
Cold? Is that the feeling of the summer breeze upon my skin? I do not know.
Warm?.....warm? I...Cannot remember....Need to...close my eyes.
"Carson, Carson, Carson, Carson...."
What is a carson?
Why does a carson do?

Broken is my trust for thee
Broken is my heart from thee
Broken is my love for thee
Broken is my soul

Suffering in silence, lacking compliance as I sit and wonder if I am going to be the father of a daughter or a little boy. If I will be able to watch my babies growth. With my luck, probably no. I have reached the end of my fall down the emotional stair case. "Am I falling into a distorted thinking trap", *Fallen into one already, I am trapped in my mind. Stuck inside a crushing hole, a deep grave in which I dug on my own. I stand on the outside of my mind, grieving at the grave of my lost mental state. Popping pills to stop my pent up paranoia, pulling out a pill bottle contemplating going ghost.

But no, I paint a smile across my face to push away any suspicion of my depression. Compressing the feeling of my contemplation torwards re-constructing my mental stability, but no. I cannot stabilize or regulate my self-hate, so instead I write it down knowing that nobody here knows who I am, just what I write.

*******... See nobody warns you, love is an addicting drug. Love is an addicting plug, Love causes more people a day to decide to pull the plug on their life. They choose to lie, they choose to die and commit suicide. But really, not me. I cannot loose what is mine. I cannot leave my siblings behind anymore, I will not end my life for just any *****.

I am from the steam, boiling *** of ramen noodles,
Car oil and sawdust staining my skin
from Paper Towel brand paper towels and Dawn brand Dish soap
From Bud Light cans to Fifths of whiskey
I am from the mold of wet wood, from a house of glass and rock,
From the cramped space and thin walls
Hot, Angry, Smelly, Tight, Cloudy, lost
It felt like we were made of the glass rock surrounding us.
I am from the rusted rims, I am from the big backyard, i am from the cramped sounds of shouting
The  Rusted rims stuck up high, a tower held stable but being torn apart.
The Big Backyard marking out what was ours, all this space and yet I cannot escape.
The sounds of shouting being normalized by repetition, not natural to you but a natural occurrence to me.
I’m from the caring and from the drunk.
I’m from the God fearing fearful family hiding from Him in a cloud of smoke and a castle of empty cans and bottles.
From Dana and Morgan who got clean for health and love
From Brett and Sean whose love is for their poisonous fix
From Louis and Tara who would do anything for their little babies
From Bob and Tim whose patience has grown thinner for sons long lost
I’m from the emotional abuse and the constant telling of “Good Job!”
I’m from the “God ******” and “God Loves you”
I’m from the “God Loves All” and the “God hates YOU”
I’m from the hiding behind a closet door full of deception and lies
I’m from being forced out and finding a escapeway to another closet filled like the last, with lies from the
past


From never drink and watch me drink down my sorrowful cries
from “never be afraid to be you” to “Who have you become?”

I’m from family who told me to believe God is all. He loves all.
I cannot love that which cannot love what i feel
I’m from Drinkers and Druggies
Oyster Stew and Grandmas Cookies
I am from 3.
3 families
3 homes
3 traits I dare not call my own
3, the triangle is the strongest shape. Wish I could be made of triangles. 3 is the family divided by old age and pain, no change ever to be found. Hard as a rock and hands covered in marks of fighting to keep me in 3.
2, every story has it’s 2 sides. Wish the feeling of being forced to pick sides would be gone. 2 is the family divided by a 2 sided blade. Slashed down the middle, the divide forever growing in size, I sit and listen to their cries feeling powerless. Two, divided they stand forever listening to fake laughs and breaking glass.


1, everyone has at least one flaw. Perfection is a flaw, because perfection is a lie. Their fake perfection dies at the opening and closing of the door, blocking out the world that they swear is the cause of their habits. How can it be their fault if the fault is not claimed?  This one is a family combined all under the intoxicating toxicity of alcohol.
I wish to change the world for the world has always been changing around me. I wish to build houses for the poor by employing the people who need funding the most.
I am from a house, upon a house, upon a house…...3 families all flawed between 2 drugs and alcohol, united under me. One.
Where am I from? I am from the everything, choosing to try and keep nothing hidden. I have searched for the cure, hastily trying to put bandaids on bullet holes. Leaving holes in my family, I try to fix them all. But I am surrounded on all sides by the people who shout, no wonder I cannot keep a sound,.. fascinated by the horrifying realization I have to switch who I am for every family,... I go…
Who am I?

Joy is a beautiful emotion that one only feels when they power through pain. Joy happens after people get over their lowest points, points in which they are given a choice. A choice too push through the pain to see a brighter and see through the seemingly never ending rain. Than the choice that consumes the thoughts of millions  of people daily, instead of going for a brighter day they let the rain consume who they are. Drowning out the chance of getting into a better mental state, the state of mind being lost in what seems like a hopeless case. My point being that people who see past the rain that is currently falling get to see the joy of life. The Sun that comes up to dry all the rain, the rush and warmth to the heart is what the rain tries to mask. But people who get drowned in rain never feel the Suns beautiful rays. But people who form themselves in depression never get too experience Joy's beautiful forms. Because depression makes you feel trapped and alone, even if you have a good home. Even if you are surrounded by friends who adore the person you become when you hide behind your emotional disguise. You may fake joy but you wont ever know the real form.

Dead look
Cold glance
"What did I do wrong this time"
You think at their dead trance.

one drip
i lost my will
2 drips
time for another pill
drip and drag
sleep is a distant and vauge
drag, drag
time to go to school and be called a ***
drip drip
once more i wish that kids would just let me live

no more
i tell a mirror
promising ill give up blowing smoke in mirrors
no more
i tell my mirror
looking at the reflection as i light another
one more
i tell my mirror
falling deeper than i could ever figure
one more
i light another
crying because these took my mother

one day
the buildings will crumble  
and ships will be rust
and everyone on the earth living right now will be dust
one day
the earth will take over
and those which did not crumble will become the jungle
and those that did not rust will become earths crust
and still, everyone living will be dust

Sooner or later you will turn ten
I will turn time
just to see you again
sooner or later
youll be a man
ill still live with the memory of being able to hold your small, little hand
sooner or later
you'll have a wife, you will give your kids life
your kids will not have to know any struggle or strife
but first
you will turn ten

does one truly not notice
the creeping due date of their corpses
is each birthday
really a year closer to life being hopeless

Press play, go on.
We press play every single day.
Every single time we allow a crime to be passed by
instead of action
we
sit
back
and just contemplate.

all our travels
are wiggly roads
all my struggles
are written with flawless strokes

do we continue to be so bold
or do i stop before being bold gets old
do i want to capture love
or does love want to capture me and spill my blood

10 nights pass
I still stay up remembering our past

I was gone,
now I am here
did anyone notice
or am I not truly here