We have incentive to collect our fears,
replace them with hope in the incoming years.
But we tie them off and leave them alone;
stash them away in the deepest parts of our bones.
Stamp them in blood, or tears we forgot,
switch off the trauma and train of our thoughts.
The tracks mail letters, to the backs of our minds;
a land unknown from the depth of our blinds.
I promise you, this ill way of thinking,
doesn't solve the problem, nor help it sink in.
Someone will find them,
somehow deny them,
for the points you could've made;
and the pain you couldn't take-

If you'd notice, you could see the way he lost his mind,
shattered on the tile floor he donates to. The coats of bandages
that soaked right through. You can feel the lack thereof in effort;
and I'm not saying you should be the one to save him, or that it's
your fault, all I'm saying is that the signs were there,
and you didn't notice for the sake of "I'm doing better now."
Maybe we become denial, or numb to the stone cold facts in
front of us. We shouldn't side with anger because it's easier;
rather lend a hand to someone lower than us in the hopes
you'll raise the rock-bottom people and awareness that this
effects more than obviously-

It's a constant battle.
I'm finding shells on my floor,
and a flood of defeat.
They got me again.
They tore up my flag;
and flattened my heart that scoped out nonsense.
I'm getting into fist fights with the mirror.
This world doesn't matter to me.
My bleeding nose and horrid mind are too naive for you to think that I am free;
breaching a shadow too small to cover me.
Mediums hover me,
and you call to connect with me.
Against my brain;
and induced will.
Against reality to assist a thrill-

I'm not staying,
it's my blame.
I'll leave the innocent;
I'm not the same.
I've got blood on my hands.
Pressure to understand.
You're right.
You've always been.
I tend to forget.
I won't bother you,
still my existence bothers me.
My mind smothers me.
The nights scare me;
comfort is scarce.
The dark makes things worse,
and this silence hurts.
It can be so loud,
the noise of nothing.
The sounds of your thoughts,
utterly isolated.
I love y'all;
but I don't love myself
I can't live up to what you all think of me-

When I was younger I used to think
that when a falling star crashes into the earth,
it shattered into stardust
and from there grows a forest.