The burn
of skin,
the smell concerns
your friends and family.
They know they’re next, but
they’ll try their best
to fight me off
but I'll bite off
chunks of their skin
to reveal their succulent blood
that lies within.
Let it pour over my tongue,
let the taste
erase
my thoughts
they melt away
with the bitter taste of ****** on my lips.
Cannibalistic.
My mind-
it’s twisted!
as your skin between my teeth.
The smell-
They claim it reeks but
its all I live for!
It's just a shame it's what they die for.
Not!

She asked if I could babysit her child,
While she went running some errands,
She said she’d pay me 15 dollars an hour,
She said her kids' name is Karen.

She didn’t give me much time to answer,
But no matter what I would’ve said sure,
She stated her own name,
But I didn’t hear her.

She was in a hurry,
Her eyes flickered from side to side,
She ran off without any transportation,
I almost asked if she needed a ride.

I walked up to her house,
And opened up the door,
And sitting there was Karen,
Crisscross on the floor.

She smiled a bright smile,
Greeted me with a “hey”
And, to my surprise,
Said that Kelsey was her name.

I didn’t mention to her,
That her mother got her name wrong,
Rather I pulled out my phone,
And asked if she knew any songs.

She said she could search it herself,
And that she was a “big girl”
So I handed her the phone,
And this is when she changed my world.

She searched the song,
Put it on really loud,
And then began to sing along,
Or, rather, she began to shout.

She danced in a circle,
My phone in her hand,
And from that moment I knew,
My time spent here would be far from grand.

A very stressful child,
And though I was getting paid more for a longer watch,
I couldn’t wait for it to be over,
And I kept checking my watch.

Four hours in,
The mom was nowhere in sight,
The same song was on repeat,
And Kelsey would play it all night.

I snapped,
I’d had enough.
I couldn’t take it anymore.
It was the only way to shut her up.

I grabbed a couch cushion,
And when she was turned around,
I wrapped it around her little face,
And shoved her down.

With the pillow drowning out her screams,
Of suffocation and fear,
With her tiny limbs flailing,
My lunacy began to appear.

I enjoyed her struggle!
And her muffled screams!
It brought joy to my heart,
And brought pleasant dreams.

But it was a different type of joy,
Unlike iced tea on a summer's day,
It was like the feeling you get,
When a nuisance has passed away.

Oh, finally!
What joy!

If I knew that death brought me such satisfaction,
I would’ve started long ago.
But now the mother is arriving home,
And obviously, she can’t know.

So I know a perfect way,
To keep her from finding out,
I’ll just have to **** her, too.
Yes, without a doubt.

And maybe I’ll share this joy,
Of watching her blood spill,
But that story’s for another time,
Another story of my ****.

Snow in the Spring.
Cold flakes fall on
warmly colored petals.
The bright blue sky
lost somewhere in the cold winds.
When Spring began,
I guess the Winter didn't end.
The two seasons fight for power
of the weather
back and forth
and once again
until finally,
Spring overpowers
see the blooming flowers
scare off the bitter winds, but,
until then,
we have
snow in the Spring.

I knew it.
I knew you'd say that.
I knew you'd go off
and get all mad
and then I'd go soft
with my thousand apologies.
We both know how it's going to go,
so why do we still do it?
A continuous cycle,
a downwards spiral.
The same dialogue,
it's getting old.
The pages of the script
are yellowing and curling
further unfurling
a story already told.
And yet,
here we are.
It's the same every time.
Its unchanging,
not even rearranging!
And still,
here we are.
You're further defending,
I'm further descending
into my guilt but
who's really wrong in these petty situations?
Of course if it was you, though,
you'd never admit it.
But honestly,
Who cares?
These petty little arguments.
It's ridiculous, at this point.
And, of course,
I know I'm doing it, too, but,
You know it takes two
to argue,
yet you'll still act like it's not you.
And no matter what I do,
if I defend myself
or let my guard down,
you remain the same.
You'll claim
that it's just me wronging you.
Why can't you see
it's really both of us?
It's so dumb.
It really is.
But here we are,
running through the script
once again.
Just let it end!

What a beautiful day.
The bright blue sky
in place of the gray
that once took place yesterday.
The wind,
its brisk.
Let it whisk me away
from this world
and it's cruelty,
its injustice.
Life isn't going right
so I look to the sky
and say,
“What a beautiful day…”
Wishing I could coexist
be at peace,
just be free!
One with nature,
away from all the idiocy
of an unjust world.
My escape this pen to paper.

500.
500 roses.
500 lives
to die today.
500 loves
to wilt away.
Love can stay,
quite possibly remain
forever, but
we let it die
right in front of our eyes.
500 roses
across the face of the earth.
500 bright, fiery reds
crumble to deafening black.
No coming back.

[Your compassion.
Your worst enemy.
Why must you care?
Why can't you stay
out of others peoples hair?
This is your fault,
I hope you know.
You should've listened to me.
Don't trust a soul.]
No, stop.
Please stop.
This isn't his fault,
and neither is it mine.
I was just doing
what I thought was right.
[What you thought was right?
Well, look, you were wrong.
I tried to warn you
but you felt so sure.
You're such a fool!
You thought you wouldn't get hurt?
Just trust me!
I'll be your best friend.
I'll stay and protect you
from your very painful end.
(But little do you know
I'll let you die alone
as I tear you apart
with an illusion of safe home.)
I swear I'll protect you!
Just relax your mind.
Just sit back
and enjoy the ride.]

What do you see when you look at a photograph?
Do you see your memories from the past?
Do you notice the things you hadn’t notice before?
That night the picture was taken?
When you look at a photo, all you see is a piece of paper with a scene on it.
You look at the photograph,
But do you look in the photograph?
Do you see the lost souls trapped inside?
That were once human before they deceased?
That are stuck in the form of your smiling face,
Despite the isolation they really feel?
Frozen, stuck, nowhere to go,
And even if they could move, what’s the point,
When they cannot escape the scene of the photo?
They can see everything that happens before the photo, yet,
You can’t see them.
A photograph of a widow’s deceased husband,
Sits on a lone shelf.
His smiling face once made her happy,
But it now only inflicts her with feelings of emotional pain.
Her husband’s lost soul sits inside, lucky to get to live in his own picture, unlike most.
The widow can’t take it.
She lights it on fire.
Her husband’s soul chokes on thick black smoke.
He screams for her to stop,
To end the pain, but,
She is deaf to his plea.
He tries to move and run as the fire eats away at the edges of the scene,
But he is stuck.
In place.
The fire catches up to him.
It swallows him whole.
Nowhere to run,
Nowhere to hide.
Oh, if only he could stop the pain,
Maybe just end it all,
But you cannot die twice.
So, he shall suffer in this eternal flame,
Until the end of time.
May it ever come.
Isolated.
Burning.
What do you see when you look in
A photograph?

Silence isn't forgiveness.
I may stay quiet,
may seem sound
but that's only when people are around.
There is a difference.
And I'll avert my eyes to the ground
whenever you are around
as you pretend
it's okay.
I'm that type of person
that if I'm feeling a certain way
I'll act like I have nothing to say
but you should know by now
that's not true.
So when you act
like things haven't changed
like they've stayed the same
it hurts more than you know.
But people change,
and I guess that's fine.
Yeah, people change
and they'll change your mind.

There always is a fire,
it started on my match.
I set it to a tree,
where it would surely catch.
It caught on to a house,
it spread on to the grass,
if there were people in there,
I don't think they would last.
Cause there always is a fire,
to your left and to your right.
It completely surrounds you,
it's something you can’t fight.
I grab some gasoline,
I pour it on the floor,
even though it burns the whole world,
I still want it to burn more.
But there always is a fire,
the black smoke fills my lungs,
and since I'm the one who set it,
now my life is done.

Love isn't where my heart resides.
I don't look and sing to the skies.
I'm not capable of blind love and faith,
believe me, I've tried,
but, in fear, I put up a fight.
I've cut myself loose of all I considered
possibly rotten
but really my soul is the one rotting.
My stomach eats away at itself
I can't stomach this anymore.
In panic, I hide inside myself.
A leap of faith,
I cannot take
for I fear of falling into a well.
So my soul and mind
end up drowning in themselves.
Hopefully one day I learn to trust again.
Maybe one day I can fully love my friends.
and hold them with both hands
trust them with my heart and soul.
Maybe soon I can look them in the eye
without checking for deceptions or lies but until then,
I'll hide away in this hole.

Welcome to the Mirrored Place
Where the clocks turn counter-clockwise
Where we read and write,
From right to left,
Where normal is done in backwards ways.
When you look into the mirror
Standing there is me, your reflection
When you move left, I move right,
When you move right, I move left,
I do it all the same, but yet, I don’t.
You only see me when you look
But that doesn’t mean I cease to exist
When you walk away,
I live my life,
The backwards version of yours.
When you look at me, in the mirror
All you see is your reflection
But when i look inside,
To fix my hair or make-up,
I see you, my reflection.
Your place is the Mirrored Place
And your clocks turn the wrong way
When I move left, you move right,
When I blink, you follow suit,
You, my reflection, follow my every move.
Welcome to the Mirrored Place,
Where you’ve lived for all of your days.

heres some old cheesy love poems from seventh grade for all you sappy hearted people. i havent written any since, and i probably wont lol.

Be My Love
be my match to light at night
be my warrior to fight away fright
keep me safe and warm at dark
be that silent yet sweet remark
when my days of darkness trap me inside,
only you can save me,
make my heart alive.
talking to you is like a rollercoaster,
exhilirating, breath-taking,
but soon, its over.
be my purest and whitest dove,
be the one
be my love.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
love, peace, harmony
these feelings become apart of me
let me in your life
and ill brighten up the night.

I can never tell
who's right,
who's wrong.
I can never tell
whether to fight
or get along.
So I'll fight away
any emotion I feel.
and come off rash and unappealed.
I feel the need to protect myself.
I walk around with my
fists up,
knife in hand,
gun in pocket.
Just knock it off!
Yeah, I want to love you again
but you did me *****
so, of my forgiveness,
you are unworthy.

Green.
Full of kinetic energy,
and fantastical vibrancy.
Once it lands,
it's up again
in swirling inks
too quick to truly be seen.
Color the leaves of trees,
cover the blades of grass,
coat the feathers of peacocks.
Make it better
with the color
of full liveliness!

You step out of your house
and begin to head north.
The sickest thoughts fill your head,
thoughts of pain, blood, and gore.
Your green eyes flicker left and right,
like the quick tongue of a viper.
Your hoodie sleeves are stained dark red
your convictions frantic and hyper.
Slowly and silently you walk,
the black night sky above
Your blood-stained knife hidden in your pocket;
you just can't get enough.
As you make your way down the street,
your shadow trails behind.
You **** joyfully and remorselessly,
causing death to what you find.
The wind is filled with the scent of death
Steam pumps out with every breath
Murdering your friends and family
you've lost all your humanity
Now only one accompanies you on your quest:
Your insoluble insanity.

Time,
it passes so quickly
to steal away life.
How do I know what I'm doing is right?
How do I know I'm not wasting my life?
Just living day by day,
shouldn’t I have something to say?
A vast array
of flying colors.
My God, what if I die?
before I really live life?
Oh, no-
I'm gonna die!
Its inevitable!
cutting away at a line
bit by bit.
It doesn't stop!
until there's nothing of it,
of you,
of me!
This idea of death,
the end,
of never coming back
it terrifies me.
I'm smart.
I learn more everyday.
Im talented.
I can do so many things
with ease.
Im happy.
I smile any chance I get.
But what's it for?
Why are we here
to live
          then die?
No- there must be something more!
And not eternal life.
But why do we exist?
What did we miss?
I want to fight
and break away from the crowd, but
How do I know that that's what's right?
I could never be sure,
and this conflict inside
will never be fixed
until the day I die.

Why?
Why I waste my time?
Why I even try?
I wish I could
just worry about myself.
***** everyone else!
But I want to care,
Though I'm too scared
I look like a fool,
so I'll hide away in my saferoom.
I'm just scared of people.
It's not even you.
I'm just too stupid
to know what to do.
These people won't hurt me,
so why I put up a fight?
I have no reason to be scared.
[But what if you're right?
What if these people
only want you to hurt?
You drown in paranoia
as you claw helplessly at your shirt.
You can't know what to do!
These people are unpredictable!
What they'll do next,
you don't have a clue!
So just come on in.
I swear I'll protect you.
Just come hide away
inside of your saferoom]

Was listening to a playlist spotify made for me and a song he showed me showed up. It's a good song but he ruined it. Opposing sides, one says, no listen to it and rock out to it, show you don't care, that he means nothing to you, other side responds, but he does. Feel pathetic, why does it matter, why do I let people control me, it's stupid. Wish I could talk to my friend but what would I say. Its dumb, really I let a stupid song get to me. Why should I burden him with something so silly. But I know it isnt silly. I'm stupid, no reason to be upset. I'm strong. I'm weak. I cant take it and I'm upset. I have full reason to be upset, he wronged me. Why do I care though, why must I care. My stomach hurts I cant think straight. I need my friend now. I wonder if he needs me.i wonder if its selfish that I want him to so I dont seem so pathetic for needing someone. I want to take the song off of my library but when I go to do it, a voice goes, aren't you strong? Prove it. Taunting, taunting. What to do. This is ridiculous, it's just a song.
So delete it.
So keep it.
What to do.
Who cares. It's just a song.

The ever-growing list.
A thousand names
penned by my wrist.
The names of
lives gone by.
It's no surprise
that they would die
blood on my hands
their shadows faded with the mist.
Knife in my fist,
another addition to
my ever-growing list.
The names of
the ones who wronged me
set their souls free
from the guilt they should feel
but certainly don't.
Instead the pain I feel,
but once they're gone,
I won't.
Blood at my fingertips,
surely they won't be missed.
Soon they only exist
on the ever
                   growing
                                 list.

For what it's worth,
I despise you.
I hate your guts,
and everything you do.
For what it's worth,
you're utterly worth less
than junk mail in the can,
than a penny in the gutter,
than water doused with sand.
For what it's worth,
I did bite my tongue.
It wasn't all you,
but what you did was still wrong.
Jewels of plastic
decorate the ground.
Worthless.
“Love”
throws filters over your eyes,
giving you false hope,
obstructing your view.
It made you desperate.
I bet that's your excuse,
huh?
But this act of treason
is inexcusable.
You played russian roulette,
and when the gun was at your head,
you shot at me instead.
Over.
And over.
And over again.
You shoved me down,
yet I would still stand for you.
But not anymore
cause now the gun is aimed at you,
my finger on the trigger.
Could pull it any time I like.
I'm in control now.
I could end your whole life.
I could tear this world apart,
light a match, set it all
just the way you did my heart.
I could destroy everything,
make a scene of your fall!
My blade is sharper,
colder,
than that of your betrayal.
Now who pulls the strings?
Oh, the outcome would be so fatal!
Your puppetry has gone on long enough,
the act is over, now I'm the star!
Spotlight on me,
center stage
and with a twinge of my finger,
watch things fall apart.
But what good would it do?
So,
for what it's worth,
it isn't.

Your eyes are as blue
as the depths of the deepest, darkest seas.
Let no others do them justice
as their radiance shines a path to my heart.
Two shining sapphires in the dark.

See it once,
see it twice,
see it any way it's sliced.
Take a chance,
roll the dice,
it's just the game of life.
It can be cruel,
stab you with a knife
take a step back
don't let it rule over you.
Things fly out of the blue.
It's hard to know what to do, when
life doesn't pick any sides,
its neither wrong,
nor right.
Don't try to fight the light
you look better in plain sight
with the rest of us,
this is a must.
Left alone to rust
truths hidden under dust
brush it away
and you'll see
it's all just a race between
death,
you,
and me.

Slain into flame,
picked apart day by day
but I'm told to shut my mouth.
I have no choice,
alone I pout.
Is it me?
Or is it them?
If I speak,
would they listen?
How do I know who to trust
when the ones I love throw me into dust?
I'll throw myself to flame.
Then I can make sure things remain the same.
I'd rather hurt myself
than you have the power to hurt me
I need to have control,
so I'll lock away my soul.
I can't tell who holds the key
a foolish, desperate plea
from me.
I'll fly myself into the sun
just so you can't.
I throw myself to flame.
Who here is at blame?
Tears driven by anger,
anger by shame
of pain.
Are these simply foolish cries?
My happiness, it tries.
But it shall fail,
I shall prevail!
I'll keep fighting till the end of time.

The moon.
What a beautiful sight!
A glittering bead
in the dark of the night.
A hole poked through
an expanse of black paper
providing us light
indirectly in our favor.
Children, roam free!
bathe in the glowing moonlight
that illuminates dewy grass
through the glorious night.
Shadows in the dark,
Let them do no harm!
for the after-hour children
are peculiar, yet precious charms.
They have
no mother arms,
a father, they have none.
So nobody knows
where they truly come from.
All we can know,
is that, come night,
there they will roam
in the gleaming light.
Such beauty in their mystery.

Trust your eyes,
trust your eyes,
what lies ahead, they won't disguise.
Your eyes, your eyes,
they don't tell lies.
...right?
Trust, trust,
believe, believe.
You can tell what's wrong, what's right,
what is a lie.
You could always trust your eyes.
Couldn't you?
Your eyes, your eyes,
to them, you can listen
and yet disease slips from your vision.
As it creeps into your body,
unnoticed, unseen,
as it spreads like wildfire,
flowing through your bloodstream.
As it kills you off,
limb by limb,
cutting off your airstream,
inch by inch.
You’re dying slowly,
what a surprise.
All because you trusted your eyes.

A match strike
turns to a lantern glowing in the night.
It warms the cold of the dark,
within its small circle of light.
Its soft amber glow,
passes over shapeless objects,
gently tingling them to life.
They slowly open their eyes
and sleepily follow the light.
No one knows where it’s going,
but no one cares to fight.
It leads them to a window,
and blindly look outside,
into the pitch darkness,
of the starless night.
Footsteps--
A cold breath in the dark,
blows out the lanterns light.
They all drop lifelessly without a light to follow,
in the cold darkness of the day

A nice little town
living on a clear lake
So calm and peaceful
with zero wake.
The autumn trees
are reflected by the sea
their bright orange and yellow
a sight to see.
But come out at night,
when the moon is bright and full
stare into the lake
when it is soft as wool.
Look into your eyes
with the moon above
watch your eyes turn
as white as doves.
See as the nice little town
and the large colorful trees
all fade away
‘till it's only the moon and sea.
The moon in the sky
begins to shrink
as into the lake,
you begin to sink.
The darkness gets deeper
the pressure gets heavier
You can't move.
You can't breathe.
You’re collapsing into eternal darkness.
Deeper.

Deeper.


Deeper.



Deeper.




Deeper.




U­ntil you are gone.

And the residents
of the nice little town
will wonder where you went.
Another traveler missing
a mystery never solved
with no witness
but the full, bright moon.

The wind
blows my curly hair
into my face.
It rubs on my coat
causing it to static and frizz
and stick up on end.
Ugh.
The wind,
it bites my skin.
My lips go numb
and my quick tongue slows.
I hate the cold.
It’s bitter and unforgiving.
It holds no mercy
in its hole for a heart.
I hate the cold
but there’s something there beneath it,
something that pleasures
and warms my skin.
The wind
it hugs?
underneath it's cruel bite.
I hate the cold
but there's something underneath it,
buried in the snow and frost,
you'll have to dig to see it.
Oh, great, it's cold again!
but what's that hiding behind it?
An indiscernible figure
behind flurries of snow
offers something
...but what?
What's that semi-sweet scent
under the fighting cold?
I hate the cold
but if I tell you that when we talk
I shiver uncontrollably
don't take offense
because I hate the cold.
The wind is bold,
the snow, it rolls,
my small body shivers beyond control,
but there's something there beneath it...

I awake.
The heat was too much to bear,
in my unairconditioned room,
of our one-story house,
on that summer night.
I think of heading to the living room,
and camping out on the couch,
underneath the AC.
Still lying down,
I look at the foot of my bed
where the doorway remains five inches open.
And standing there,
is the silhouette,
of a small, skinny being.
Too tall to be my younger brothers,
too short to be anyone else.
Maybe it's the vacuum cleaner?
No.
I see that stationed behind it.
The silhouette peers in at me,
staying perfectly still.
I can't turn on the light,
to see what it really is,
because I can't stand up.
I can't move.
If it knows I'm awake,
it might **** me!
All I can do is lay there and stare back.
laying perfectly still.
I stare for what feels like hours,
until I decide to close my eyes for a bit.
I may have fallen asleep for a few short minutes,
I may not have.
But when I reopened my eyes about five minutes later,
and peeked down at my doorway,
It was gone.
I can see right through the spot where it used to be,
where the vacuum cleaner is,
and the vent.
So I stand up,
cautiously walk out my door,
into the living room,
Nothing.
It is nowhere to be found.
So I lay down,
under the AC on the couch,
in our one-story house,
on that summer night.

Where does time go
when a minute passes by?
Some people would say
that it disperses into the sky,
and that it comes back
when again comes it's time.
But I disagree.
I don't think it's that way
Because is the 6 pm today
the same 6 pm from yesterday?
No matter the symbols,
all time is different.
But if it's not here with us now,
does the past even exist?
If every second that passes
ceases to exist,
then where is our proof
that it ever really did?
Every second is different
and even in one second,
everyone's second is different.
A second for one
feels like it could never end
while a second for another
feels like it couldn't go quicker.
You can hardly count a second
and be for sure.
So what is time?
Is time even real?
And if it is
then where does time go
when it ceases to exist?

What's wrong with me?
What's missing?
I'm clawing at thin air
hoping
praying
that there's something there
but what?
What do I want?
If you're confused,
don't worry- so am I.
Don't strain yourself
when I can't even understand myself.
I couldn't tell you what or why,
but something doesn't feel right...

A parasite calls you
Dare you resist it's tempting, glowing light?
Of course you don’t.
Why would you?
You scroll through as it ***** your mind
Telling you what to believe
What to say
What to do.
Ridding you of opinion
Of individuality.
Spoon-feeding you ideas
And making you think you came up with them on your own.
Making you think it's there for your own good and entertainment.
An ever-growing infection, it is.
Each time you itch it, it enlarges.
And then it begs to be scratched once more.
Of course, you do.
Again.
Again.
Again.
The cycle never ends.
And no one has any intention of stopping it.
Because we are all infected by the parasite.

..and sometimes i might ***** up cause i have problems. I have more problems than i thought i did cause apparently i'm not over it. I tell myself i'm not depressed cause i'm certain that i'm not but what if i am? I wouldn't be able to tell, falling into an endless well. I told myself i don't care, said i don't need him, don't want him there, but that's supposed to be my family. And i know i'm simply rambling because it doesn't mean a thing, but the thought won't go away in any moment i'm alone but of course i'm ashamed to say that it hurts. It's the pressure on my soul, the crumbling of my skull, i throw up a shield around my heart, it's impenetrable, i'll say. But naturally i'm trusting and so from time to time i'll let it down but the secret that i hide is that i'm constantly afraid that i'm letting in an enemy, as i'm sitting in my dark, i think if you're planning to rip my heart, can't you just do it from the start? I want to trust again but when the smallest thing happens, i go “look at you. You thought you could make a friend? We'll you're too vulnerable and you tend to let in the wrong people, just look! You did it again.” but i tell that voice to shut up, it's not worthy of my hearing, and i am trying my best to refrain from always fearing

A web of lies
hidden evil spins.
A group of people
live within.
They could get out,
but they know
the real truth hurts
too much to show.
They know their life
is a lie,
but the painful truth
they will deny.
So they put it off
as long as they can
and try to paint on a happy face,
until sh-- hits the fan.
Until it all explodes
in front of their faces.
and the truth comes out
and they're forced to face it.
That they've been used.
That they've been abused.
That they've been poked at and tormented,
so they can be told they're dramatic,
when they finally blow a fuse.
That they've been defending
and standing for the one
who was lying right under their noses
for their own benefit.
And though they already knew,
when the truth comes out,
It.
Still.
Hurts.

There is love in my heart,
There is light in my eyes,
There is music in my ears,
There's an angel in the sky.
It opens up its arms,
And I'm hoping it is you,
But when I reach out to grab on,
I see it's nothing new.
You slip from my fingers
As I try to hold on,
I watch you run away,
And soon enough, you’re gone.
But no matter how far you run,
my love for you won't leave.
I could wait forever
Because you’re the one I need.
There is still love in my heart,
There is still light in my eyes,
One day you will come running back, and
My love, I won't disguise.

Turn left
Face right
Aren't things so out of sight?

Blurry eyes
Watery vision
Contradicting outlooks on life make a collision.

Foolish hopes
Nonviable dreams
Everyone is against what they seem.

Hot embarrassment
Cold betrayal
Your actions towards others can be fatal.

No support
No love
Nothing here to make you feel snug.
Taking life as what it is can be painful.
Living can be painful.
Where is the solution?

Plenty have found it.
Many have done it.
Plenty have escaped the cruel world.
Many more will.
More will let death catch their breath
To be happier.
I wonder,
are they really happy?

Tick, tock
check the clock
Time ticks away
An hour, a day,
a week, a month,
a year, a decade.
Tick, tock
let's check the clock
How much time do you think you have,
until you die?
A really long time?
That's what we'll all say,
but we can't all be right.
Tick, tock
your life's a clock
A death date is certain,
and it grows closer each day
Yet every day it's still “far away”
Every day we waste life away
We lounge around,
doing nothing, squandering our time,
to live.
Every day, we'll push the thought away.
Tick, tock,
tick, tock.
What if I told you you'd die tomorrow?
That this was your last day?
That you would cease to exist?
That your life would completely deteriorate?
Yes, you.
Dead.
Of course, you think, “No way, not me.”
“I've still got years!”
But do you?
Really?
Someone has to die tomorrow.
How do you know,
it won't be you?
Tick, tock,
your life's a clock.
One unseen,
hidden from you.
But ignorance is bliss, right?
Sure.
Until your clock stops.
Tick, tock,
if you could check the clock,
would you?

Let's play a game,
it's called the Blame Game.
I'll pass the blame to you,
I'll pass it back to me.
I'm a puppet on your string,
I dance as you twirl your fingers.
You move pieces on the checkerboard
with your mind.
There's no need to come in contact anymore,
you've already done the damage.
You do nothing but sit back and watch
as I tear myself apart.
I now do it all for you.
Your work here is done.
Now watch as I fight with myself,
in the place where you once were.
Watch as I still cry, even though,
you’re not here to hurt me anymore.
Watch as I try to repair,
severe damage that you've done
to my body,
as I pick the splinters out of my heart
one by one,
that you've so elaborately placed.
And if I'm asked to,
for some reason,
I'll still put my heart on the line for you,
though you are unworthy of my loyalty,
just as you somehow deemed me unworthy
of your love.
And how?
How did you think it appropriate
to trade out your family
for such a relationship?
But I guess it's my fault, huh?
For not making my feelings clear?
Even though I tried so hard to be heard?
What else did you need?
Should I have screamed?
It couldn't get much clearer than that,
than my pain-filled shrieks
in your bleeding ears,
directly in front of your eyes,
oh so glazed over by “love”.
And yet I sometimes blame myself
even though I know
that if I was crying tears of blood,
you would have still turned the other cheek.
You've broken me so much,
I've lost sight of normalcy.
I can't find
the true definition of family anymore.
Let's play the Blame Game.
It only takes one person
as long as they are shattered enough.

Don't you see my heart inside
is breaking deeply, as I cry?
Or do you tell yourself these lies
as you stare at her with cursed, loving eyes.
I can't fully blame you, I try to hide
but you don't care to search,
don’t care to try.
I know I try to seem big and tall,
but inside of me feels very small,
and you’re the reason when I feel tears,
I wipe my eyes before they fall
because I'm ashamed.
I don't want to be a human,
full of these emotions,
and a huge throbbing heart
that can be stabbed until it bleeds.
and if I'm sad,
I don't want you to see
because that means
I let you get to me.
But it was truly inevitable
since I couldn't keep you away.
And it's a shame,
that you don't care you hurt me.
Yeah, you'll pretend you don't see,
and I'll pretend I don't care,
but I'm just feeling so weak.
And we’re still family, right?
But with the things that you've done,
you know you've broken that bond.
It's funny how you’re one of the only ones
I let into my heart.
I gave you a special place,
with a reserved seat,
and it didn't take you too long
to slowly rip it out clean.
And you try to act like you don't know,
or that you just didn't notice,
and I'm just so ignorant
that I went with the flow.
I still recall those good times
when we all used to play
we would have such good times,
we would waste the day away.
but now I realize the whole time,
I was only a pawn
to get closer to her
and when I was kicked out,
you two would play alone at dawn.
It was a cursed love.
It was never meant to be.
I guess it could be compared to
Romeo and Juliet,
with all intended irony.
You never really cared about me, it seems,
and yet we call this family.
I couldn’t believe you really loved me,
because that's not how family treats their loved ones.
and if it is,
I want nothing to do with it.
Please just stay away from me.
It just hurts too much.
I'm forced to face you,
and act like I'm okay
like I don't go through what I go through.
You expect me to lie for you
and for some reason I do.
I really wish for you to hurt,
the same way you made me,
but in doing so
I’d be admitting I let you hurt me.
I'm too ashamed.
even though I shouldn't be,
you should.
But you'll still act like you don't see,
You'll all still act,
like we're one big, happy family.

The tears in my eyes,
they sting
like black smoke from a burning fire.
It's intoxicating.
Dangerously beautiful
drawing you in
breathe it in
until your lungs are black as coal.
I'm choking on your smoke.
What an amazing feat!
My soul is crushed in the atmosphere.
When will it stop?
When I'm dead?
Or shall it stop before?
I'm so abstract.
Have I lost myself?
Or am I just seeing myself
for who I truly am
for the first time?
Stalling, stalling my falling.
Sincerity melts with the flames,
revealing the true face of evil.
I know it can never be the same.
Excuse me while I vent
don't try to understand
I know you never can
because I will never tell you.
(But why?)
Excuse me,
while I possibly lose my mind
a clear headspace I need to find
and that's where my savior jumps in.
My creativity
where music is my life support,
art is my blood
and literature is my brain.
There to keep me possibly sane.

I'm a perfectionist.
I'll erase and restart until it's
Perfect.
You'll coat your face until it's
Perfect.
But what is
Perfect?
I read a biblical story
made for children around Halloween.
It was called
The
       Perfect
                   Pumpkin.
It was about how nobody's
Perfect,
but once we die and go to heaven,
God will make us
Perfect.
Inside,
and out.
I was taken aback by these words.
This was supposed to be my religion,
and yet it went against everything I stood for,
and yet it felt like they were disguising an ugly nightmare
with a happily ever after fantasy.
So, I wonder,
what is God's version of
Perfect?
Is he the one who installed this illusion,
this insecurity,
in our brains?
Now, I'm not saying that God isn't real,
nor heaven or hell.
But I would rather burn
in the fiery pits of hell
for standing for what I believe in,
than be rewarded in heaven
for compromising to corrupt ideals of
Perfection.