I'm 16. I'm at home more than school. Crying more than I'm not. Depressed more than happy. I'm stressed more than relaxed. But I'm not the only one like this. Hell, it gets way worse than me. But we're only 16...

*******.

Once she used to care,
Used to brush her hair.
She can hear the chatter,
That she used to matter.
And now,
She takes her last bow.
She will never grow,
This is her last show.
She hangs the rope,
But she gains hope.
She will not give Them the satisfaction,
She will take action.
She will hold on to the knife,
Called Life.

Her skin is not quite ivory but not hazelnut either. More like a dark beige.
Her freckles dance around her body. One not too far away from another.
Her hair is bipolar. Never being the same color for too long.
Her eyes aren't Dazzling Blue. More like a
Brave Brown

There once was a girl who hated her life.
She had a bad year.
She gained and lost.
Hurt. Hurt. Hurt.
Is all she felt.
Nobody believed her when she said that she wanted to die.
They all thought it was a joke and laughed.
But one boy understood.
See he also had a bad year.
They were the same.
Together they made it through tough times.
And wonderful times.  
All I can say is that they made it!
They are we.
She is me.
He is my reason for living.

Sometimes I wish you cared.
Sometimes I wish you were here.

Sometimes I wish you were real,
Sometimes I wish you were here.

Sometimes I wish you could feel,
Sometimes I wish you were here.

Sometimes I wish it wasn't severe,
Sometimes I wish you were here.

Sometimes I wish you were sincere,
Sometimes I wish you were never here.

"Sticks and Stones,
May break my bones.
But words will never hurt me."
How can this be?
If I break a bone,
It will heal.
But if someone breaks my feelings,
Then I'm scarred.
Words hurt,
They go to the place under your skin shirt.
You may act like you don't care,
But you're heart will tear.
I just want you to be prepared,
You're going to be repaired.
Just not all at once.

Can we go back to those summer nights?
Where we all stayed out until the crack of dawn.
Where I stayed at home instead.
Go back to all the drinking and smoking.
The "That's bad for you, ya know?"
Yeah, I know.
But what else is there to do?
With the consistent blabbering in my head.
Of all the things I did wrong that day.
Why wouldn't I want to erase that memory?
The constant crying.
Over everything.
Better yet...let's not go back to those summer nights.

She called me a *****,
But I've only been with four?
She called me skanky,
She seems cranky.
Her words,
Fly away like birds.
Some would curse,
But I've been called worse.