I think the walls are judging me
I'm starting to hear murmurs
Murmuring "We seen the things you've done"
Since I was 4 years old to 17 years young
They know things about me
Things you wouldn't even tell a soulmate
The walls have been watching me
They murmur how they saw me laughing my heart out, crying rivers and oceans, even spilling puddles of blood
These walls have seen it all and now they want to judge?!
I trusted these walls with dark secrets...
God don't let them tell my secrets
Please don't let people hear them murmuring

often I think i can force the words from my throat
push past the floodgates and fix this drought
but they stick behind my teeth
breathed out - rearranged, changed - back in.
the hollow of my throat holds a thousand tragedies,
a thousand miracles, it births thoughts like colliding stars
and yet they will crawl around my mouth, humming,
a lungful of bees that sting and sting and sting
my thesaurus brain cannot find the right mixture
of vowels and consonants and breaks in sentences
to give justice to what blossoms within me
they say silence speaks volumes
and I have been shouting mutedly all my life.

It's the simplest of sentences that cause the greatest of quakes in our souls.

Like, "I love you" and, "Goodbye".

Breaking out with my faults
I can't handle becoming an adult,
My scars are open
My life is determined by someone else' pen

There is no recovery from suicide
There is no place to hide.
I know that I've lived and fought
But what happens when you're a neet who takes bottles in one draught

When you give yourself less but everyone else so much more
Man life ***** when you're poor,
I hate the meds because it makes me feel weak, reliant and unhappy
Shoutout to Dappy.

I almost met my fate yesterday, oh what a feeling of ecstasy.
It almost seemed like a fantasy,
It isn't about the lie, it is how the truth is denied
It isn't about life, it is how you've lived with a knife.

Do not be baited
Into the notion
That because
Things could be worse
That they are somehow better

Do not give into the idea
That we are somehow past
The mistakes of nations before us
We are always a moment away
From Ancient Rome, fickle and meek

Do not listen to such beliefs
That things will just get better
Hanging onto hope is a stagnant dream
True change is revolution
But they want monotony to be the game

Didn't write this one, but its spirit cannot be undone

*She reads poetry in her pajamas
And laughs when there is no joke
She runs away from the rain
And dances in cigarette smoke

Pictures never capture
The whisps of silver hair
Surrounding her face
And following her everywhere

She never dreams when she sleeps
Only when she's holding *****
She drives around in the prairie hills
With a childish smile
After all, what has she got to lose?