Driving down the highway
The rain is pouring
The traffic is building
The drops pitter patter on the rooftop

But ahead
A bridge
If I reach it
I’ll be fine

Under it’s calmer
As I wait beneath this cover
It’s almost peaceful
It’s almost silent

But, Alas
The traffic will clear
And I’ll have to leave
The bridge that brought me peace

And as the wheels leave
The solace of the bridge
The rain hits
A little harder now

It’s all louder than it was before
More chaotic
More painful
The rain booms now all around

Every day, in my mind,
A battle between light and dark ensues
My light, My innocence,
My values and resilience.

None of that was light enough
For the shadows of my past
The plaguing regret,
The guilt, shame and defeat

Backed into a corner,
With nowhere else to go
Almost defeated by my own self
Ready to throw the towel in

But you came along,
You beautiful Ray of golden sun!
You see my flickering light and nurture it
I am not alone in this.

I’ve always enjoyed
Sitting in silence
With a book in my hand
A cup in the other

Being alone is nice
Whether it’s on a walk
Or lost in my music
It frees my mind.

I like eating alone
I like playing games alone
Or maybe just biking
Or some archery
Alone.

But when I see a mom laughing with her kid
Or a group of friends joking
And enjoying each other
Or someone with their lover
Something hits me.

For someone
Who enjoys being alone
I really don’t fancy
Being lonely.

You tell me these blades are dangerous
You tell me they can ****

But little do you realize
It's my thoughts that really will.

Love is like a campfire, at least love with you.

We both set it up and the flames start building,
And you bask in the warmth while I bring the logs
From the dark forest, I go trip after trip
Unable to rest in my very own warmth

Sent out again to keep the flames going,
But one time I trip over a thick root in the dark.
I pick myself up alone, deciding to come back empty handed
Maybe I could rest up, focus on my own well being.

You're waiting there, questioning why I didn't bring any back
And yet no explanation seems to satisfy you.
So as the flames die out and the light starts to dim
You decide to walk away, seeing as I'm no use to you anymore.

And that is why Love is like a campfire.
The brightest and most passionate,
Only created under the effort of both parties,
While one one-sided leaves you out in the cold.

I realized
I do a lot of dumb things
That hurt me more than anything
For little to no reason

This weekend camping by itself
I’ve blistered my hands
I fell on my back swinging on a pull-up bar
Because I was careless.

Other than that, I cut myself every night,
I put off work unnecessarily
And I let myself love people.
Carelessly.

Over
And over
And over.
Every time,

I pour my everything into them
And they play along with it
Until they decide
They’re over me.

And **** man,
Let me tell you.
Heartbreak can be a major cause
To carelessness

Because in that moment,
Your world comes crashing down.
And you don’t care about anything
Except for them.

So when they leave,
You
Have
Nothing.

I’m even doing it again
Right now.
Falling for people
Who don’t give a **** about me.

The closet is a place
For many things to be stored.

Things like button-up shirts
And fancy little ties
To a new sexuality
And a newer sense of mind

An idea, generally frowned upon
Nobody would like you if they knew.
Or even yourself!
The closet's a great hiding place too.

From the demons and monsters
That live in your very home
Through thick and thin,
They still continue to roam.

And some things never leave the closet
Even if you know that they're there.
Something keeps them locked in
Never again for you to wear.

So many groups,
So many more a religion
That people want to believe in
Forced to make the other decision.

Toxicity keeps them where they are
In a dysphoric state of "This isn't me."
Victims of a harsh society,
They just want to be set free.

Damaging myself in my own confusion,
What's really right and what's an illusion?

As my heart races from one soul to the next,
My mind is stuck here, quite oddly perplexed.

My desire for affection leading me astray,
***** tomorrow, I don't even know my today.

Mind split from heart, what's good or what's right?
One side to the other, like a flickering light.

Caught in the crossfire of my own poor fate,
Don't know if I should keep on at this rate.

The cuts getting loud and the thoughts going dark,
Stuck in the ocean with a revolving shark

I've fought all my battles, I've won all my wars
But I don't think luck's on my side anymore.

The demons, they scream in glorious delight
Teasing me, joking me, just out of spite.

They prey on the weak, I'm no one diverse,
Until they release me from this final curse.

Thorns 'round my heart
And this weight on my soul
One day I last longer
One day I lose control

Draining my energy
Till I'm left lying
On the bed for hours
I shouldn't be trying

To hold on to anyone else
Is to lose a part of myself
'Cause in the end they all leave me
Just an empty bottle on the shelf

And through everyone that's left
I can call this silver blade my friend
A temporary distraction
'Til I reach my very end

I want people to care
Lemme tell you, I do
But everyone'll just pass me by
And I don't doubt even you

Will someday be another one
That I let see me down
But instead of helping you packed your bags
And walked out of my town

Unable to scream,
Unable to fight
Time for me to give up
I've used up all of my might

These vines growing stronger
Keeping me all *******
My will to go on further
You've taken from my cup

I need an escape
I need a saving grace
But every time I find one

A new safe haven
A new happy place
They trail behind
With whips and maces

Always on the ready
‘Don’t hang out with that person’
Why? Because they know how to help me?
They know how to save me?

Maybe I can blast music
Drown out those thoughts
Say what I can’t
Be my mouthpiece

A snip of the earbuds
Sends me right out of this one
Maybe if you’d listen to the lyrics
You would understand

Because my music says what I can’t
About me, about my feelings.
But no, I’ve gotta be ready
To take every single command

So snip goes the buds
And goodbye goes the friends
Maybe I can find solace with strangers
Where I can be any me I want to be

The internet, a lovely place
Nobody has to know the real you
Work together towards a common goal
No matter how diverse.

Sure, some may come off as toxic
But the internet is my home
I can make friends
Nope.

Away goes the consoles and up goes the phone
Because by golly if I were to be influenced
By anyone other than the high and mighty thee
That’d just be a disaster

Don’t do this to me
I’m running out of places to hide
Just a few remain
I’ll hide away again

This time behind the reflective blade of a kitchen knife
I need an escape
I need a distraction
I need a saviour

So I cut
Slices in my skin
Because then
I know what’s hurting me

And I’d rather be the one
To hurt myself
Than to let any one person
To hurt me.

But what will I do?
When eventually,
You take this happy place away?
Will I go somewhere more twisted?

Old perscriptions
And alcohol?
Those could work
A new ‘happy place’

Until the inevitable
Until I lose those
And I doubt it’d be long
Some things you can’t hide.

And when I have nowhere to run
Nowhere to hide
I’ll always have one option left
The trusty hangman’s knot

And I’ll end it all.

Because dead men need not to hide
They need not to run
Because they have escaped
They have been set free.

Maybe one day I’ll free myself.
One day I’ll Escape

Listen, I'm fine if you tell them,
Every single thing I did to you,
As long as you also tell them
Every single thing you did to me.

Every single time you led me on,
Every single secret of mine you shared,
Every single promise you broke.
Every. Single. Thing.

I was told to write out my feelings
On a piece of white paper

But as I sit here
Half an hour later
It’s empty,

And honestly,
I couldn’t have said it better.

You can't save everyone.
It's as simple as that.
Not all stories have happy endings
Or redemption arcs
They just end
As much as you think you can
As much as you feel it's necessary to help them
Their survival is not guaranteed.
And, believe me,
Trying to save someone else
Means giving up part of yourself.
Do this enough, there will be no more 'yourself'
You may think it'll be worth it
But there's only so much you can do
Before you destroy yourself

A cutting friend introduced me to the practice.
I tried all I could and it drained me.
They left my life none the better
And I left theirs all the worse.

Don't push yourself too far, is what I'm saying.
Some things are just futile.

We never really appreciate things
That we use every day,
Do we?

From the shelter we live under,
The internet used to read this very poem,
To the companions by your side.

We take our **** for granted.
We think, "Because It's always been there,
It'll always be there, no matter what I do."

But when you miss on rent,
Miss a bill or two
Or break someone's heart,

You lose those things.
The things you thought would stay by your side
Are suddenly gone.

Empty chasms occupy the spaces they held
And you search for something to replace them,
But nothing ever really fits like the old stuff used to.

You learn the hard way
Don't take your stuff for granted
Appreciate it while you've got it.

The sounds of an autumn forest, the chirping of the birds,
The swaying of the leaves, The crackling leaves and sticks
On the soft dirt ground. The smells of the crisp autumn air,
Even a few deer calmly sipping at a lake. It all joins together
To create an image, a tranquil scene. Everything in its place.

But in comes the hunters with guns loaded, blood in their eyes
As they take aim, they instead fill the air with a smell
The scent of lead bullets and smoke and blood overwhelms
The sound of pops and thuds as the landscape slowly ruins
Nothing but corpses and hunters left.

They pack up their game and leave, the scene still a mess
They’ve got what they wanted, so why should it matter
If the forest sustains damage, they wouldn’t care.
Sometimes people can be hunters to others’ forests
Coming in, disrupting the harmony for their own benefit
And Leaving the scene one of discord.

The puffy white clouds
The clear blue sky
The laughing friends all around
The crisp spring air

Heartbreak doesn't wait
For stormy days and windy nights.

Heartbreak is ironic.
It can happen at any time
From the brightest, happiest day
To the stormiest, darkest days.
And when you're blinded by the brightness of day
It becomes a little harder
To pick up the pieces

And in the moment
You realize that you are in your own bubble
Your worst day could be someone else's best
And in that moment, you are alone.

I think I love her.
She's got beautiful eyes
And a great, little giggle
Her hair's a wavy, golden splendor
And whenever we're talking,
It just feels right.

I want to tell her this all
So why do I wait?
I don't have the right words.
I think she'll reject me.
Love has hurt me 3 times before,
So why expect anything different?

It would be so easy
To just text her, to just tell her
"Hey, I love you."
But I can't. I can't say it.

She won't like the real me.
The me with problems.
She won't like Blake,
Or how he takes over when nobody's around.
She's not ready for all the problems I'd bring.

But...
Maybe if I wait longer
Talk to her more often
Give that a couple weeks
And then take my shot.

But again...
I don't want to hurt her.
I don't want her to hurt me.
She's just so...
Precious. Innocent. Pure.
And I'm...
A mess, A wreck, So many problems

A war within my own mind
And I'm not sure who's winning.

A free trial for suicide
Imagine how nice that'd be.

You'd be able to see
The next 24 hours
How they'd react to the news
If they'd react at all.

Imagine being able to see every cut caused,
Every rumor spread,
Every other suicide,
Caused by your own.

But imagine seeing
That nobody cared
Nobody's life would have been any different
At least it'd give you some closure.

And from there
You'd be able to decide
Is suicide really worth it?

I'm not okay
I smile anyways.
Too sad to say
Maybe today

Plans that we made
Can't go, I'm afraid
At home with my blade
On my bed I laid

Knife crimson in hand
I don't understand
My hourglass' sand
On top, still quite grand.

When will it stop?
My blood I have to mop
As my heart will drop
Back to my bed I flop

And leaf subsides to leaf
The Great Happiness Thief
As I sank to Grief
The feeling no longer brief.

I'm not okay.

The sad part is,
It's five words
And so many people know
Just what I'm talking about.

When I was a little Cub Scout
I was taught to handle knives with care
Stay safe while using them
Only use them when permitted

When I was a little Cub Scout
I thought all of this was redundant
Common sense anyone should know
Because who would ever put themself in harm's way?

When I was a little Cub Scout
I didn't quite grasp depression
People who whittle down things
Other than soap bars and sticks

But when I was a Boy Scout
With my very first knife in my hands
And my very first cut on my arm
I understood why these rules were set.

When I was a Boy Scout
That first cut was accidental
But yet something stuck with me
A wandering thought found its home in my head

When I was a Boy Scout
The cuts became less and less accidental
An addiction growing onto me
A desire to feel something

I always knew there'd be times
Where I'd cry one day
Look back a while later and laugh.

But I never knew there'd be a time
Where I'd laugh one day,
Look back later and cry.

They say it’s better to have loved and lost
Than to have never loved at all.

Is that really true?
Is it true if that love mentally destroyed you?

Depression is like
Taste buds slowly being ripped from my mouth
A weird feeling that anything I eat
Doesn't make it to my stomach, but,
I've gotta keep eating, I have to eat to live,
But preparing the food is just so much effort
For so little payoff.
Because it'll all just kinda taste like mashed potatoes.

I'll still be hungry afterwards
So why bother with seasonings?
Why bother with ingredients I used to like?
I can't taste them, I can't feel them in my stomach.
They just taste like plain mashed potatoes.
Why do I even eat?

I'm hungry.
I'm sick of the taste
Of mashed potatoes.
Why is this happening?

Think of a monster.
Now why is it a monster?

Is it the looks?
Twisted teeth, Pointy horns,
Broadened chest, body of thorns?

The personality?
Sketchy, Judgemental, Manipulative,
A betraying spirit that doesn't forgive?

But I can guarantee that some people here
Didn't imagine anything fictional
Maybe it was a father, a mother?
A backstabbing friend?
A brother, a sister?
A manipulative boy or girlfriend?

These monsters are real
And these people just the victims
Of a living nightmare.

Do you remember,
The first time someone called you a name or an ugly word?
How it wormed its way inside your head,
Like a maggot?

Nobody mentions how sometimes,
That maggot never goes away.
How it grows and grows,
Into a demon.

Nobody mentions the screams that bounce around in your head,
Pointing out every flaw and imperfection.
Nobody mentions the way silence feels like poison,
Thick and burning every inch of you.

How loneliness is like a hot iron,
Being pressed all over your skin.
They never tell you what it's like.

Nobody mentions how odd your fingers feel,
Shoved down your throat for the first time.
How it feels to be knelt over the toilet,
Forcing yourself to ***** your entire last meal.
For every meal.

Nobody mentions how you'll feel like you're on a podium,
Everyone freely seeing, freely judging every imperfection.
How they can point out every extra pound, stretch mark and scar
With perfect eyesight, perfect accuracy.

Nobody mentions how even doing things like feeding yourself,
Become chores.
Or the sound of your own retching, or anyone else's, for that matter, Echoing around the bathroom, akin to a gunshot.

Nobody mentions how it feels to cut for the first time,
Or the second, or the third.
How the blood will drip down your arm,
If you go deep enough

Or how addicted to it you can become,
Like it's some sort of lifeline, when, really,
With each cut you make and each blade you use,
You're losing time, you're losing yourself.

Nobody mentions how it feels to sit in your room, alone,
On the edge of your bed, on the edge of suicide.
How it feels to wonder if you matter.

Nobody mentions the way it builds, tight in your chest,
Like someone's taken a rope around your lungs,
Pulling tighter, and tighter, and tighter
With every second you still question everything,
Every second you're still breathing.

Nobody mentions the weight of the pills,
Once they're in your hand.
They hold your entire unexplored future.
It's no wonder they feel so heavy.

Nobody mentions the way it feels to go to sleep,
As if it is the last, wondering,
Will you make it to tomorrow morning?
Praying you just don't.

And Nobody mentions the soul crushing despair,
The disappointment when you open your eyes the next day.

A sweet addiction, love is.
I never realized how starved of it I was
Until our first taste

Our first hug
Date
Kiss
Meaningful conversation

Left me wanting more
Grasping at that someone
That something
That made me feel that way

I get more,
My brain likes it
Toss in some happy chemicals
Too many happy chemicals

After some time
My brain doesn’t know how
To make those chemicals in any other way
And the touch-starvedness begins

A desire to be with someone
To feel them
To be with them
To have someone that understands

But that someone
Won’t always be there
People change
Even Satan used to be an Angel.

But it’s too late to go back
My brain’s hard-wired
To the feeling
Building dependance.

I’m addicted to you.

Getting over about someone you care about.
It's a lot easier when you don't see them.
But it gets hard keeping your chin up, keeping your posture up,
When you see them every single **** day.

It gets really hard,
Let me tell you.
Seeing someone you used to love so much
Now just a stranger

I used to tell them all of my victories
And now, I'm just stuck
Keeping it all to myself
Because nobody cared as much as you had

But you're gone and I can't do much about it,
I guess I'll just try to get over them.

He's a parasite
A plague in my mind
Something I hardly noticed at first
I tried to help him

His successes were my successes
His problems were my problems
His depression became my depression
I became him

I helped him, I think
But at what cost of my own?
My life revolving around his
He was priority number 1

Grades slipped
Sleep schedule slipped
Trust slipped
Social life slipped

And all the while
Everything was slipping away
I held onto him
Longer than I should have

But by the time he left
He had planted a seed in my mind
A sapling of suicidal thoughts
Sprouting to a beautiful tree

Knitted with knives
Decorated with drugs
Stuffed with starvation
Loaded with lighters

A fruitful product
Hopefully it'll die out soon
Maybe it won't
Maybe I'll be first.

Love could be labeled as a poison
And people would still drink it.

Love is like a minor form of Quantum Entanglement.
You’re bound to the other person
Emotionally, Mentally, Spiritually.

Your wins are their wins
Their losses are your losses
Pain they have is yours as well.

And it’s scary,
You could be doing fine
Until the ding on your phone

Something could happen to them
That destroys you.
They could have that power.

The blade glistens in the bright moonlight
As I sit in my tent in the woods
Alone.

Through my boredom a wandering raccoon comes along
A desire
A thought
An urge

I shrug it off for now,
tossing the blade from hand to hand
The raccoon grows louder
Tying me down in my own mind

All that I’m thinking of is the blade,
My skin
And the crimson red hiding behind
It wouldn’t take much to reach it
It wants the crimson.

The blade is sharp
Waiting
Begging
The thoughts drown out all common sense

Until the blade is on my wrist
Resting
Apply some pressure
I feel it
A tingling through my arm
As I drag the blade across my skin
Crimson red pouring out
The raccoon is euphoric.

The pain overpowers those thoughts
Quiets the din of the raccoons
But my friend,
Pain is only a temporary experience.
They come back.
Wild raccoons given a taste of power
Coming back.

They louden
I give in
They quiet down
Rinse
Repeat.

Parallel lines down my left arm
Out of room
Try my other arm
The blade’s easy to hold in my numb left arm
As I mirror the cuts over to the right

I’ve given it all that I could.
Yet it comes back again
It wants more
It wants more

I give it more
They're are satisfied for now
Toss on a long-sleeved shirt
Long jeans.
Nobody’ll be able to tell
Of the things that I’ve done
for a raccoon

Until it asks for more.

I'm sorry for being selfish
Sorry for prolonging your suffering

I'll let you take your life.
For peace to finally settle in your heavy heart

Because I guess I now realize
Suicide isn't about not wanting to live.
It's simply about not wanting to feel pain.

So it would be extremely selfish of me
To prolong that pain.
The peace in your bones
Would be greater than the pain in my heart.

From talking for six hours at a time
To six minutes
To six messages
To six words
To six days ago

What happened?

Most nights I'm up till two, three, four
Wondering where I'll be
In ten, fifteen, twenty years
But some nights
I wonder if I'll make it that far

Sticks and stones may break my bones
But words have power to break down souls

And what's a functioning body without a functioning soul?
A husk of a human simply existing, not living

The words can be insultive, and yeah those hurt
But the false promises and lies cut the deepest

Giving me hope to take it away
Over and over causes the heart to decay

Until I'm left scarred, paranoid
What was left of my trust completely destroyed

You say you really love me
And you'll be different than the last three

But how am I expected to just trust you,
When I've been given reason after reason not to?

My brain hard-wired on their blatant deceit
Maybe someday we can make ends meet

But for now I'm not sure what I'm supposed to do
Maybe when I'm healed more I'll call to you

It's always the straw that breaks the camel's back
That straw is always the most memorable of them

But where would that straw be,
If not for any of the other beautiful little flaws?

Honestly, I'd take a bullet for anyone.
At least it'd come with the closure of saving a life,
No matter which life it is.

Or maybe push someone away from a bus or oncoming car
Maybe take up firefighting or join the police force
Take on people thrice my size to let someone else away
Put myself in whatever danger's way to save others

And that's the thing about me.
I don't value my life. My life means nothing if I'm not saving others.
I'd trade my life to anyone in need, cause odds are,
They value theirs more than I value mine.

One day I hope I'll be able to step up in one of these ways
Because dead men share no intents.
They'd call the intents heroic and selfless
While I know the intents as suicidal and selfish.