A horrible mess masterfully created and critiqued by the people
The very same people that hypocritically blame society for everything that is wrong with the world, for everything that is wrong with the people
But the crazy thing is that we, the people are the ones who deemed the world to be a certain way
The “right” way if you will
You see, we all paint this picture in our imagination of what we feel is perfect
What we feel everyone should be
What we feel we should be
And since we all have different minds, we all portray our “perfect” in different ways
Thus causing everyone’s confidence to drain cuz we cannot become this picture no matter how hard we try
There is no completing it there is only coming close to it
So we sit here trying to become this way we think one should be
And us as a society are causing strict guidelines and rules on ourselves
On everyone
But what we don’t know is that we are continuously causing these rules to change
And as they change the people try to do the same
But frankly not all of us can and the ones who can’t, are automatically deemed as different  and in our world different is “invalid” or the “incorrect” way
[What we don’t know is that]
It is not this world that is so wrong on it’s own, but rather the treacherous people who have caused it to be so wrong
So in the end, it is not society who created the people
It is simply the people who created society

Who knew I could trust somebody again
I have been let down way too many times
But by now you are more than just a friend
Its easy to forgive all your past crimes.


Everyday you give me a warm embrace
Something you said was hard for you to do
And everytime I look into your face
Everyone dissapairs except for you.

You have always been honest and open
And I dont always like what you tell me
But I trust theres no secrets unspoken
And its nice to have some reality

But nothing good ever lasts forever
And I dont want my heart to be severed

Please don't ask me about my apple juice. Don't ask why I'm always drinking it. I drink my apple juice because I refuse to eat. I naturally deprive my body of nutrients on a daily basis. Not because I am self conscious. I am aware I am over weight. I don't really care though. I do it because I feel as I deserve it. I embarrassed myself in gym today. The class stopped to watch me cry as I couldn't breath and couldn't see. I walked to the nurses office with my head down as they forced me to eat crackers and drink apple juice.  I only ate two before I left and threw away the food. I do not deserve it. I do not get to eat after that. Sometimes it hurts to sleep because all I hear is my stomach yet I tell myself I'm not hungry. And this is how it has been since I was little. Sometimes I get yelled at for not eating. I will go without a single morsal of food for over a week before I'll eat anything. But this is how I scream. This is how I cut. This is how I cope. Do not ask me to eat because I can't. My body is trained to hate the idea of it. I only eat when I have to.  So please do not ask me about my apple juice.

I love chocolate chip cookies. Not for the taste of it, however, more
for the fun. Every chocolate chip cookie is diffrent. Every
bite you take is new. Each bite has a different ratio of
chip to dough. Its like a mini adventure for the mouth. Not only that but depending on where you take a bite makes a diffrence. The edges are crispy and golden, while the center is gooy and warm. You can compare a chocolate cookie to life and find a whole lot of similarities. Life is an adventure. Every moment is diffrent. And you can dictate that moment with your choices. Like you can choose to eat the end with the most chips or dive right into the mouthwatering dough. So yes, I love chocolate chip cookies, but not for their taste.

A heart filled with emotion
I'm constantly in motion
Trying to forget the pain
But its brought up once again

I am trying to move on
Still my broken heart is torn
Like before, I feel alone
And now I am not at home

I got away from father
But he's still such a bother
I have left my friends behind
To protect that heart of mine

In court, I brought my brother,
"I blame you" says my mother
His actions are NOT my fault,
This lesson she must be taught

Life for me is difficult
Happiness can not be bought
Sometimes I don't want to live
Its easier to give in

I have my blades around me
I dont have a family
I have to lie through my teeth
To the point I can not breath

Yes, don't worry, I am fine
Ill just give it some more time
Ill bury my feelings deep
And hope to solve it with sleep

The next day isn't better
I feel like I dont matter
My will to live is gone
Still, I have to remain strong.

Life is full of choices.
I dont really get a say in those.
What should I know anyway, I'm only fifteen.
Because of this I dont know anything.
I don't know how I feel or my sexuality or any of the right answers to "grown up" problems.
What should I know about who I like.
What should I know about separations, and divorces. What should I know about ****, ****** abuse, or physical abuse.
What should I know about having to make hard decisions.
I havn't lived long enough to gain enough experience.
Well I know about who I like. To me a relationship is when there is a strong connection between two people that they don't share with others. Its not always about ***. Its not always about gender. To me, that connection can be made with anybody.
I know about separations. I know it can be hard for everyone in the family. Not just the children. Not just the parents. I know it is hard for me. I know it is hard for my Mother. I know it will be hard for my Dad when he finds out.
I know about ****. I have been *****.
I know about ****** abuse. I spent six years going through that and longer with physical abuse. Being beaten and hurt. Crying out and nobody helping.
And I know about hard decisions. I have only made a few but I know how difficult and painful they can be. I had to choose between parents. I had to choose my future. I had to choose to report my own brother for hurting me for so many years.  I had to turn in family. My mother blames me. And I guess in a way it is my fault.
I know I am still young.  I was robbed of my childhood and forced to face realities that no child should have face. I don't have as much experience as others, but I still have experience. I still have feelings. My age does not make me dumb, and does not mean I can be ignored. I am as much of a person as ever one else on this earth and I will not be belittled anymore.
I do not know everything.
I dont even know everything about myself. This, however, does not mean I know nothing. I am proud to be who I am. And everyone else should be proud of who they are. I have a story. We all have stories. We all have pains and we all have problems. Age does not effect these problems. They are still there.

Beautiful
Admired
Plucked
Killed

My heart is a rose.

   It is happy. As a rose when given to a loved one. It is sad. As a rose when rain falls on it at a funeral. It is wild. As a wild rose growing in a undiscovered meadow where deer fawn frolic.

   The rose began as a seed.
As I did. I was a newborn. Unaware of the events occuring around me. Knew little of the world around me.

   The rose grew into a bud.
As I did. I saw the light of the world. Began to understand. Began learning. The rain and hail that constantly fell upon me started to hurt me.

   The rose blossemed.
Now all of a sudden people notice me. Now is when I'm important. The damage I endured didn't matter. I am a young woman now. A little bit wiser but a little bit broken.

   The meadow unknown to man was found. The rose was picked. I was hurt for the last time. I start to shrivel and close. Not ready to be vulnerable. I hide the secrets within.

My heart is an ugly shrivled up black rose. Longing to be loved but afraid to reach out. Longing for a home but no way to get there. Unloved and forgotten.

It's difficult to sleep when I have the same nightmare everynight.
It's difficult to be awake when that nightmare is my reality.

Everynight I remember my past. Everytime I was beaten and left in the corner to pick myself up. Everytime I was hurting and I had to brush my self off. I was defensless. Every time I was touched by the man that were supposed to be role models.

My heart aches knowing that I was always alone. When I watched my parents argue, or my brother beaten. My mother beaten. I was cornered and crying. And I was left to clean the blood, to call the cops. No one asked me if I was okay. No one offered a hug.

I still remember that stuff. I still remember being tackled and hit. With blood running down my face. I didn't feel the pain of the punch. My heat was crying to much. I trusted them. I depended on them. I still do. They wernt there when my brother was ripped out of my life. All the nights that I've cried myself to sleep, are meaningless to them.

I reached out. I cried for help. But they were to sad to see my tears. Worked to much to see me bleed. I was alone. And I tried to help them. But I just got yelled at. Just got hurt. Kicked when I was down.

They said sorry. They would change. But I stopped trusting them. I stopped trusting people. Because what they di didn't know was I was beaten at school too. Tortured by my peers. The teachers didn't care. They said to **** it up. I had to anyway. When I tried to tell them about school they would say they were to busy. They were always busy. When they wernt they dumped me at my grandparents.

They were no better. They spat in my face and made sure I realized I'm worthless. They drilled it into my head.

Here I am 14. Straight A's, college courses and honor role every year, and I'm still not enough. I have pushed my self and I'm hurting. When I wake up screaming, I'm not heard. When I walk out crying, I'm not seen. They promised, and they lied. I'm still abandoned. I'm still alone.

I learned to stop leaving myself vulnerable. I listen to my music, alone, I'm the dark. Where no one could see me anyway. Where no one could hear me anyway. I tell myself that i dont need them. Now that something seems "wrong" with me they worry. I have two counsalers a therapist, and a phycoligist. But I don't need them. They can't fix my problems. What's the point.

I don't know how to be happy. I never had a reason to be. I try to pretend so people don't try to help. I let so many people try and they all have up on me. I don't want to be hurt again. I stopped sharing. I hold it in. I can say I'm okay with tears falling, and they would all believe it.

***. I'm only 14 and already I have to face it. Thats all they care about. Grown men harrassing teens. So many oppertunities that I am never going to take.

It hurts. It hurts to think a body is all that's seen of a girl. It hurts to think my ******* are the only good part about me.

When will it stop. When will this ever be done. I'm tired of deleting social media because strangers are perverts. I'm just done. And so are my friends. I am not the only one dealing with this. So I have to be there for my friends too.

I'm not appreciated for who I am. The first message I usually get is " nice ****" how dare they. How dare they be so crude and assinine. I have done nothing for that. I don't even reveal my body. And they have the audacity to approach me with such disrespect.

I'm done. I'm done with all of this.

My eyes burn from crying
My head achs from trying
My heart is slowly dying
I'm tired of lying

I'm fine is what my mouth said.
I'm tired is what my eyes said.
That's good is what you said.

Why can't you see
That my eyes plee.
Alone is all I'll ever be.
No really cares about me.

Drip. Drip. Drip. The sound of silence engolfs me as I run deeper into my thoughts.

Night falls. The stars rise. The moon glows and I sit still thinking. Thinking of mistakes I made. How can I tell anybody. How will I explain.

I don't sleep anymore. Nightmares controll my dreams. Nightmares are nicer than my thoughts though.

My mind is a deadly labrynth. One wrong turn and it can break your heart. One wrong step and you fall in the endless abyss of fear.

Sadness ocupates my mind. But that is the least of my worries. Its the secrets I hold that scares me. The ones I cannot tell.

The one that will bury me alive.

The sky, it holds the sun.
The sun, it wears a smile.
The smile, it spills the happiness. Happiness that I do not have.

So you see, the sky has betrayed me as my skin has, and along with it the perish of my soul.

My spirit had fallen when I was betrayed by friends. When I relized I was on my own.

The pain that creeps around in my heart is due to all the lies said, all the pictures leaked, and the friends that have turned their back because of rumors.

Those I thought I could trust broke it in an instant. That instant when no meant yes. That moment when my world flipped.

Close family that I relied on showed me that we will become nothing. No one ever has. Not here.

Boys taught me how to be careful. How to be cautiouse. I learn from my mistakes right? What if it wasn't my mistake. Of course it was though. I trusted people. I let them in. That is a mistake I will never make again.

My heart. It beats. But it doesn't have a reason too. It has too many reasons to stop. And maybe it should. Maybe my breathing should. And my pulse. Maybe my whole life.

But I turn back and relize that is not an option. Because no one will let me go.

Allison Kimmey had said that Nobody is fat. We all have it. Some just a bit more than others.

But me. I have too much. Im tired of looking in the mirror trying to convince myself that I am beautiful. How can I just stand there and lie to myself while I'm terrified of my reflection.

Pictures. Doesn't everybody have some. My pictures are aweful. They deserve to be thrown in the firey pitts of dispair.
Dispair. I have so much. It fills my body to the brim and flows out by my feet. Filling the room slowly as I drown in my own saddness.

Self esteem. Everybody has it. Except me. My self esteem has plumitted to its grave so long ago. When those pretty girls called me ugly. When that cool boy called me fat. Everytime I had to look at the size tag on my shirt and it read extralarge. Because I'm just and extralarge girl arnt I.

And just because I have accepted I'm fat doesnt mean it still doeasnt hurt. Just as a man who has accepted he will die still feels that cold running through his veins as if frost were replacing the blood that was spilling out on the pavement.

Every heavy step I make gives a thud sound reminding me of my wieght. Reminding me of the truth.

Hearts. Mine is sick. My heart bears too much. Now let's forget about the heart conditions it holds for a second. And look a bit deeper. Past the scars it holds from judgment too. Past the open wounds from everytime I've lied to myself. Everytime my friends lied to me. Let's go into the deepest darkest place in my heart. The core. Where it's the pride there. You know. The only thing keeping my heart beating. The pride in myself. Though very little, I still have just a bit left.

It tells me to cut. Because only the weak give up. Only the weak die. And I am not weak. I am fat, I am ugly, I am hurt. But I am not weak. Therefore I live. Maybe not the way people want me to. Maybe the scars on my leg and wrist are as ugly as me. But that's okay. Because I'm still alive.

The dispair I'm drowning in is still there, but I found an air bubble of hope. And it won't last me long. I know that. But I have the hope now. Just because of my pride telling me I am not weak. And that is why I live.

But then, the deppression that I thought I had deafeted saw me. And it said that it was never gone. It was always there. And it reminded me that I don't know how to be happy. I've been this way my whole life. It tells me that I don't know how to smile on my own. I fake a smile whenever I know I'm supposed to be happy. When I'm supposed to laugh. I hide behind the mask I made. Because I am afraid. I don't know how to smile. How to laugh. I have to fake it all and it kills me on the inside.

What is happiness. I wouldn't know. Because I am taking my last breath before I'm lost in my dispaire again. The hope is gone and my pride is crushed. What is left to keep my heart beating now?

Lies. The lies I tell myself everytime I have to look at that disgusting thing in the mirror. This is my lie.

"No one is fat. They just have fat. Some more than others."

This is how I'm dead. All emotion drained once again. It floated away as I sank deeper into my dispaire.