I've lost my mind, I'm afraid.
And the longer I search, the madder I get.

I am the least talented.
I am no one's first choice.
I am the girl who never speaks.
I am the one who feels the sadness in the silence.
I am the child who craves her mother's attention.
I am the one who just wants to feel like she is loved.
I am the one who is always lonely.
I guess this is who I am..

Wasted days,
       squandered nights,
             waiting for the end in sight.

You can go straight to hell.
See you there, *****.

In seven days time
my entire world will change.
My future rests on just one day.
And I can't sleep or even eat,
due to the sheer pressure
that will come in seven days time.

Stages and dance rooms,
makeup and costumes.
Auditions and lead roles,
complete self control.
State capitols and groups
of professional troops.
Judging my acting,
attention attracting.
Sweat, blood, and tears.
Realizing my fears.
Blocking and accents,
and never an absence.
Rehearsing for hours,
the feeling empowers.
I live for theatre,
but may be too eager.

Random texts, confused conversation,
and practically dying of this anticipation.
Secret glances, embarrassed blushing ,
and trying to calm the heart that's rushing.

Still life portraits to hide the real life pain,
because many times art is a reflection
of what is and isn't meant to be.

He was 16 Trying to be
The perfect guy
Trying to make
Someone understand
How addicted he was
To self destruction
To sadness to the feeling
Of a cold blade
Of an empty stomach
There was nothing
He could say
He could only
Sit in his room
And dream about dying