You've been abused.
*****.
Had your heart torn out and toyed with.
Utterly ruined.
Thoroughly destroyed.
From the inside.
Out.

How dare I compared my pain to yours?
It's not even in the same realm.
We exist in different galaxies.

But not really at all.

It's like comparing lying and ******.
They're both sins.  
God despises the pair.
But only one
Seems worthy of ultimate despair.

So, how dare I compare?
I can't.
Not even close.
I just have to remember.
In each of us, something broke.

The thought of you two
Crying and fighting
Over a small town boy
Is enough to make my stomach
Tremble and my heart ache
I have told you countless times
That four years of friendship
Is a more solid foundation
Than a crumbling shack of a boy
You have both known less
Than a full moon cycle
Friendship is not about always
Doing what the other wishes
It is not about predicting
The outcome of your choices
It is about looking at each other
And being able to confess in truth
'You have flaws, and I still love you'
My head is pounding from the stress
Of worrying if you will ever stop
Fighting and clashing and hurting
My angels I love you dearly
Love one another as I do you
Let not one boy be the echoing shout
That moves mountains of your friendship
And destroys the hearts of you both.

Sunshine and blue skies
Snow piles refusing to melt
Awaiting fresh friends

Humans deserve so much more
than we give each other.
People are these perfect receptors and givers of love
and we deserve each other more than anything else
We deserve God and love
and happy-ever-afters
but that doesn't stop the reality of the situation
when people don't get what they deserve
and it's not selfish, but it is selfish
It's the most selfish thing they could do
But they need to be selfish,
when the pain is so much that there is no other solution-
you need to put your needs above others,
because you can only control yourself and your life.
But if me building a friendship with him would have changed anything,
or if they had planted the ******* grass seed earlier
so it would've been ******* green
or if I could hug her until I could breathe my will to live into her
I would. I would change everything
not so he had to go on living miserably
but so that he could have the chance
that one day it wouldn't be miserable anymore.
I would die so that everyone would forever be happy.
Christ did.
He didn't die for this, He didn't die for misery,
He died for hope- and we rejected Him, and
we loved less and less as years went by
and in the midst of turning away to our glorious 'freedom'
we forgot that we were happier before, and maybe this mental state
isn't what it should be, and maybe we should change something,
and maybe if we all just loved each other more, he'd still be here.
We've been cutting each other apart for years and
now we're reaping our grisly harvest.
But now he's gone. There is no closure,
No why
No how
Once they're off the cliff, you can no longer grasp their hands,
and no one sees a need to until they're broken on the chasm floor
"Oh, I would've held on tighter if I would've known!"
Whatever you would have done to save someone,
you should do to them every single day,
because you never know how close they are to falling off the edge.

People talk about it all the time
but it wasn't a reality til today.
I'm ******* ******, I'm tired of using other people's words
All these phrases are cliches, mindless placations and all that can run through my mind is *******, and that's not how I feel, that's how everyone else who goes through these things feels, I don't feel like this, it didn't happen, this didn't happen, even that's a cliche, I just want to use my own words, but everything important's already been said and I just want to stop using english because all of these words have been used and it's not fair, why can't I use my own words to describe my mental state? Every euphemism is pointless, that's not what these things are, there's no way to say it, my mind doesn't look like it's supposed to right now, it hurts, but it doesn't, it's numb, it's nonexistent, I don't want to keep using these pointless words, this was supposed to be a poem.
It was supposed to be a poem. It was supposed to have an ending. A real one. A beginning a middle and an end. It's cut off in the middle of a sentence just like that ******* book and why do I have so many ******* relative quotes but no real quotes of my own? Someone called it bad timing but there's no good time but really some are better than others but actually when is the best hour to **** yourself?

It would be a lot easier
if you

weren't beautiful