I don’t know who I am.
Sometimes I feel like I’m not even real.
Not dead, just a little lost.
But very much alive.
Maybe, too alive.
Always thinking
I think until I self destruct
I think until I destroy every bit of reality
Breathing, living, existing.
All for nothing.
But it doesn’t hurt anymore.
I’ve come to accept insignificance.
Processed that there is no true meaning.
Nothing has a meaning.
If there’s no meaning, I can’t truly ruin everything.
With no meaning, comes emptiness but a little peace too.
Maybe I will find contentment in my absolute, utter uselessness.
Maybe, being nothing is okay.

I don't care if you
Throw sticks
Or stones
Or grenades.
You won't hurt me,
I'll pick myself up.

I don't care if you
Call me stupid
Or ugly
Or a failure, a disappointment.  
You won't hurt me,
I'll shut it all out.

I don't care if you
**** a frog
Or rob the bank
Or starve for days.
I won't bat an eyelid,
That's what others' did to me.

I have been made
Cruel and heartless
By this warped, greedy world.

If it won't affect me,
I won't care.

Mama, it hurts to breath him in now.*
I think it's the intoxicating smell of all the wrong choices he made following him everywhere he goes.

Mama, it burns whenever I touch him.
He scorches me with his fierce speech, a tongue of fire every time he speaks to me, but with words never truly meant for me.

Mama, it deafens me whenever I hear him.
His voice is raspy from all his problems he tries to smoke away, turning his lungs into ashes with all the bad herbs he puffs away.

Mama, it blinds me whenever I see him.
His sad self wasting precious life away, in the depths of despair.

Mama, I want to cry for him. He hurts so much and I cannot even reach out a hand to help him without poisoning myself with his deadly words. Loving him is excruciatingly painful because he has no love left for me.

Mama, I can't leave him.
Even if he doesn't show it I know if I were to leave he'd suffer tremendously. He's so fragile behind the armored wall he put up against anyone.

Mama, I know you think I'm making a mistake
But I bare with the pain if it can make him okay again.

I'm the only one he lets his walls down for.

Mama,
You ask how? Why?

Well, if he didn't, he wouldn't have asked me to stay longer.

Why?
I guess he needs me as much as I need him.

Be a writer who doesn't know where the next sentence will take her. A writer who focuses on her own self, studying her own brain. A writer whose heart is bursting with love and desire. A writer sly enough to give the clues to her secrets in the crevices of her pages. A writer whose words spread thought in others to give people a sense of purpose. But it's alright that she doesn't always know what she's thinking until she writes it. It's as if the words already exist somewhere and they just pour out of her thoughts. Be a writer whose mind is such a twisted place, crammed full of beauty, with darkness, the sun and a touch of madness.

I've never been one to take a punch without either dulling my senses or punching back
But this punch back feels wrong
Sometimes I wonder what I'm doing
I'm drifting through life
The corridors of my heart have been empty for years and I don't know how to fill them anymore
From my father to my first love to you I've been abused
I've been bruised, talked down to, manipulated, and confused
And you did nothing but confuse and dull my senses as if there was something I was supposed to see and you blocked it from my view
I've never hated you, I can't find the time to
But between when you left me barely functioning and now I've learned to love you without being next to you
And hearing you hurt and holding back the pain in your voice broke me and I didn't know how to respond.
So when you told me not to speak to you
Not to tell you that I loved you
Not to tell you that I missed you
I decided that because I do love you I was going to respect your wishes.

I check your Facebook now and again
I make sure you're still posting on your instagram to make sure you're still breathing
If I could ask you how you were doing I would
But you don't want to hear from me, it hurts to much
And I keep fighting the urge because baby
You learned how to control me
And now I cannot free myself.

what heartbreak it is to feel a storm in your chest everyday.
to feel like you don't belong in your own skin.
and i know one day we will all be happy
because that's what they tell us right?
but i swear to god it has been cloudy and raining everyday.
I've been praying for a sunny sky for days
weeks
months
years.
And i know
i should be happy.
But how does one find happiness
trapped
like a prisoner
in their own mind.

She sees heaven in his eyes
He sees a hell in her heart
Too many times she's been hurt
and torn all apart
He sees her suffering
She sees that he's trying
But something inside her
Feels like she's dying
She knows it's worth fighting
He knows how much she's struggling
Struggling with pain versus time
Never knowing if she'll make it through
Like she's blind, walking a twisted path
He guides her towards the truth
She falls behind, she's just too tired
He turns around, sees her lying on the ground
Adrenaline kicks in
He has to carry her out of this place
A heavy load to bare, he struggles through
He takes the weight on his shoulders
Pain, sorrow and a lifetime of despair
Knowing she's his one saving grace
He pushes on until he sees the light up ahead
The final stretch, but he feels heaven on his side
Wondering if he'll make it after how much he's bled
And how much he's cried
The bright light awakens her
She holds on tight, crying tears of joy
With a kiss and a laugh they move on together
Cause love is something even hell can't destroy