It grows in us all.
Each and every single living breathing thing has either already encountered you or are waiting for your sweet, loving embrace.
Oh Death, I say your name never in fear, maybe heartache but never hate.
Maybe momentarily I’ll be dead.
Alas that’s not going to be true until you put me to sleep.
Oh death, how you surround us.
Always lingering and lusting for our lives.
Some of us you wait to seek,
Others you don’t.
oh Death how constant you can be when leaving bodies laying around do be a dear and pick them up will you?
Ha. That’s cute.
And isn’t it quite funny how death appears the second you close your eyes.
It’s a comfort really to know that death is not the enemy.
The enemy lies within us in our own ****** life.
Breathe in and out.
If you can’t do that you’re dead.
You could be dying if your sick and cold or just out of the blue like the popping of a vein, or if your lips turn blue maybe you’ll be blessed.
Life is death and death is everything life is and isn’t.
Playing the game of life can be traumatic or fine. Just fine. Or okay, maybe great, if you really wanna believe that.
Let your last breath be the first of your new life.
Remember only the good, learn from the bad, and try your hardest in every challenge given to you by life.
Make yourself the undertaker to your own funeral.
May the world one day forever live and Rest In Peace.

My head is twisted my body is broken
I don’t know how to breathe or to be a person
But that’s ok cause no one wants to hear none of that.
No one wants to hear those loud car doors slamming leaving the dogs in a frenzy with people screaming.
People may ask you “are you ok?”
And you could say yeah, or you could tell the truth and say how miserable you are
How dead you are.
You never want to see or hear the things I think about or see the stuff that I can remember in schools with flash cards and books, depressing music, and some angsty poetry and to be honest I am scared.
I’m scared that I’m not sane.
But what does it mean to be sane?
I honestly have no clue and I’m freaking out scared for my life hiding in my house as if it were a hole that we dug for safety and it hurts me everyday to be awake sometimes.
But people don’t wanna hear that.
They wanna hear that you’re ok and doing perfectly fine and that everything’s looking up.
When in reality there’s no such thing.
But that’s just life.
But don’t worry I am fine thanks for asking those who do here’s a shout out to you as a thank you for being there for me when I needed them the most I love you kisses xoxozozo

My eyes are blue.
Black and blue.
My skin is pale white with freckles.
Freckles of blood spatter that reached my face.
The red and blue go really well together.
Maybe I should redye my hair red.
Red like the blood that once belonged to someone of importance.
It was his fault he came onto me.
So I took my knife and I taught him a lesson.
1: don’t take what isn’t yours
2: say please and thank you
3: no means no
4: hands to yourself
5: if you don’t fix your mistake you die.
He died. I had to teach him over and over again.
10 for each lesson. Just so it really stuck with him.
Hopefully he received the message if not the police will find all my hidden clues. And if I’m lucky they’ll find me. I’ll tell them everything.
Like the good little girl my daddy raised me to be.
Smile and widen your eyes and tilt your head and speak soft and sweet.
Be who they want you to be during the day, so you can be who you want to be at night.
You can be the murderess you were meant to become. Or you can just blow off some steam. But don’t leave a mess now or you’ll definitely get caught. But you can’t leave nothing behind so leave them something to work with.
You’re the riddle they’re trying to figure out so make the riddle worth understanding.
My riddle is complicated because I want it to be. Because I was born to be complicated.
Nothing can stop me if I put my mind to it.
So sleep tight knowing everything’s going to be safe.
If only he had followed the rules my eyes would just be blue and my skin would just be a pale white with natural freckles not blood speckles.
But he tried to take a part of me that took so long for me to recover and I couldn’t let him get away with what he’d done.
So all the bloods on him.
He chose this path.
I just helped end it.

It was never about the money for me.
I loved you.
You are my sister.
Money isn’t my problem even if I’m struggling.
Because money isn't everything.
Love is something,
Friends and family,
That’s what matters to me.

What words are we supposed to say or write?
The ones we feel or the ones we're taught.
Wait feelings don't matter when it comes to writing.
Who am I kidding.
The world wants us to write about things that are fun and joyful.
But what if you simply can't think of words for such things.
The words I'm feeling and wanting to say are different then the ones everyone wants to hear.
Should I just give in and tell them what they want to hear?
No matter how hard I try,
I can't.
I want to write the words that I feel.
The ones that make me feel.
The ones that make other people feel.
So I'll write the words of my own desire,
No matter how sad or dreadful.
They're my words.
My words.

I'm not scared of the dark,
I am not afraid to die.
But darling I'm terrified.
I'm scared of the voices in my head.
I'm scared of the shadows behind my bed.
I'm scared of the living.
Darling life is a ginormous horror show.
I hope you aren't scared.
Cause you have a long way to go till you can be rid of living and the horrors that accompany it.
Darling never be like me.
Please never live in fear.
Don't be scared.
Don't be scared.
Don't be scared of the living.
Just please don't be scared like me.
Don’t be afraid to live.
Cause darling,
I'm always scared.

It's quiet.
Real quiet.
I'm up in the clouds,
hair tangled in the grass,
Feet stuck to the ground.
I want It to always be like this.
Instead of the sound of swords slicing through the air trying to scratch or stab the person on the other end.
I like the quiet place.
My mind drifts and I see things.
Happy things.
I hate waking up sometimes cause I realize it's always a dream.
I just want the world to be quiet.
I don't want anymore swords slashing.
Please just let me be safe,
In the sweet sound of silence.
The louder they get the quieter I am.
I'm starting to get real quiet now.
What can I say?
What can I do?
Nothing.
So I'll just keep my head in the dirt with new words swimming through my head.
Aching for the quiet.
Waiting for the war to end.
So with my head laying down and my feet on the ground I close my eyes and sing for silence and listen to the winds music letting myself go.
It's real quiet now.
I plant my arms on the ground hands facing down and breathe in the air.
It's quiet, real quiet.
Now I can drift away into another world where my worries are nonexistent and I'm just a little speck of a sparkle in the sky.
Shining and singing the song of silence.