I have this feeling thats gnawing at my stomach, i know it all too well.
But i have a goal to reach and if that means falling into bad habits, watch me leap from the top of the mountain.
If it means bruising and my head spinning out of control, watch my skin turn blue as i turn and turn and turn.
If it means that my mothers worried look will return and my friends will start distancing themselves, watch me walk this road alone and in pain.
Because pain means suffering and suffering means loneliness and loneliness means that i need to reach my goal alone.
I only hope that this time i'll be capabel of using a parachute on my way down and stop myself from dissolving when i hit the ground.
The ground is my goal and oh god i hope i make it.

Loneliness is the lead ball in the pit of your stomach.
You let it control you like the gods control the weather, you let it take charge of your life like your father did when he laid a hand on you.
You let the loneliness creep in under your pillow, so it can whisper darkness into your dreams.
Soon you will look at your life and wonder when you threw it away and decided that your own company was the only thing you were good enough for.
One winter you will ask yourself why you never tried harder and if that is the reason you're celebrating christmas alone.
When you turn 80 you will think about all the times you needed company and all the times your insecurities took the chance of ever getting it away.

Just because you are a good person, people will not treat you better.
They will treat you as they please
They will not consider your feelings, they will stomp on them
They will stomp on them every time.
You are a background character  in every one elses lives.
They will not notice if your gone, so you dissapear
And you will dissapear, cause if there is one thing you know
It is this: Loneliness has killed more people than cancer
And you are now awaiting your destiny.
You just hope that it will come soon
Then perhaps you wont become invisible before it arrives.
Then perhaps it will not only be you're mother there at you're funeral, then perhaps your name will appear in the papers, speaking of the tragedy that was your death.
But you sit still, knowing what is supposed to happen, knowing that there is no other way.
And you stand up, you look in the mirror, in hope that something has changed, that there is another way. You stare and stare, but you see nothing except the scars on your body and in your mind
Nothing but your crooked teeth and the failure that is reflected in your eyes.  
And at last, nothing. you stare and see yourself dissapear in the mirror until you are invisible and there is nothing but the noose around your neck.

She carries this lethal weight on her shoulders
and carries on through the day.
Nobody sees the mountains that rise above her head
and almost crushes her with every step.
Her eyes have dried up
She doesn't contain anymore liquid
except when she runs to the corner store
and loads up on her fuel again.
She doesn't seem too notice the weight
when she's floating above the dance floor on a friday night.
Its only when she awakes
the burdens come crashing down
Its only when she awakes
the facade wears off
Its only when she has woken
that she wants to sleep forever.

My name means pure, unsullied. It means that i'm untouchable, it means that i am alone, It means i am bigger than life, it means i smile with teeth of white. It means i am lonely somewhere in the light, it means you can't polute me. It means that if you are with me you're alone, it means i can't be mixed or altered by any other substance, when i get mixed in a substance, i don't react, i don't alter from my perfect white, it means you can't defy me, but remember to show me the bright colors that happen when you react with someone else.
My name is bright but misunderstood. Misinterpreted is the color of my eyes. No one is fit to my name, therefor it is rare. Therefor i'm not sure it fits. It means i get hurt, but still try getting on my feet. It means i find the good in other people, that i inherit the best traits. Even if i can't see it myself.
My name is spelled wrong, defying who i am, it misses a place to belong, my name is not easy to pronounce.
My name is a hurricane in the states, it is quick temper, my name is impatience, it means i can crush your heart, it means you can't carry mine. It means if you are with me you are on top of the world, it means you can't tear me down, im taking humans in my palms, swallowing the seas and rivers like saliva. And when you fall from the highest altitude remember to give me your black bruises. My name is unforgivable, my name meant pure once, my name was cold as the winter, killing butterflies, and my name is incarnated in the fields of Louisiana, killing people, and asking them to forgive me. Understand; i am not as pure as my name.

It means, i am alone, like the hurricane that carries my name i will be gone quicker than i came but never forgotten. It means that when i settle you fall from my palms. It means that i disapear, while you get hurt. It means that i am only shown in the atmosphere, watching, waiting and never coming back. If or when i do, you will have changed my name and i will be replaced by another hurricane, ten times stronger and harder to let go. I will be watching, dissapearing, while you are in the palms of another. When the rain finally falls, know that it is only my tears, they may not taste like salt, but they will taste bitter of heartbreak, and when everyone is shouting of pure happiness that the drought is finally over, that the water is fresh and delightfull, remember to tell me how you taste the hurt from my heart, in her mouth.
I will not be forgotten, whatever it takes.

When my name told me i was meant to be pure. I thought about how i blamed everyone who sullified me, knowing that the only one who poluted me was myself. Knowing that everything i have ever done was make myself less aproachable, more broken, more *****. less pure. I meant to destroy myself so i couldn't become a stereotype of my name. Now i am only expected to come spiralling down in a storm of dirt whenever i arrive.

When my name told me the truth, i thought i was the one doing the hurting, the damage. When all along i was the most hurt, broken and damaged. I am unsure of weather or not i deserve my name, but no matter what i will not be unsure of weather or not i am worthy of it.

You get up every day, you look in the mirror and see the same reflection as yesterday. Do you ever get tired of the never changing image that is your face? Does it ever make your heart ache?
Do you find yourself watching cheesy romance movies just to feel that jump in your heart that you thought you had forgotten, well sweety you're not alone. The day seems bright when you wake up and dark when you go to sleep. Thats how its supposed to feel. However, it is never supposed to make you want to scream at the top of your lungs. Its not supposed to make you doubt every choice you ever made. And the worst of all, its not supposed to make you want to tear your insides out just to feel something, cause you forgot what love feels like. You start to doubt if you're even human, you start to see things as they really are, as they shouldn't be, as you never wanted them to seem. The world isn't white or black, its a million different colors and somehow you find yourself in none of them, somehow your life seems bleak just because no one ever had the capacity of loving you, just because it feels like no one ever will. You start to believe the cruel things that the walls whisper to you, and you start to see them too. You want to make a difference in your life and you are positive that this new day, will keep its brightness through all hours. You tell yourself that, darling you are just as loveable as anyone else. You almost believe it. Then you see your reflection in the mirror at the school bathroom, at the club, at the mall, you still see the same dull eyes who once had stars in them, you see what you've become, you see the emptiness and the sorrow. The next thing you know, you're laying in bed, watching the notebook and answering the whispers with a simple: "You're right, who could ever love someone with no content whatsoever".

I live in a dying city.
With more for sale signs than inhabitants.
When walking through the streets i see no activity, no joy and no people.
This city has no malls, no gas stations, no schools.
When passing by the old buildings who used to house laughter and learning i only see the unmowed lawns and crumbeling structure. Yesterday i heard an ambulance.
Now there is one less inhabitant and one more for sale sign.
This city is dying, if we leave, it will be gone forever, if we stay it will die with us.
Im not sure the title, city, fits anymore.
I live in a place with small rows of houses and more for sale signs that inhabitants.
I live in a place where laughter is no more and where failure is written on the street names, i live in a place that is dying with no hope for resurection.
And no, it is not our fault, it is not your fault, we can not blame anyone for the deception our city has caused.
We live here, we stay here, and we will fight for our right to call this place a city for as long as there are inhabitants.
Untill all there is, is for sale signs, we will be living in this dying city.

The fire is ours
We keep it locked away
Afraid anyone is gonna see
That you are more than what you show
That you are someone speciel
You keep the fire locked away
Cause its yours
No one elses business but yours
If you keep your fire away
No one can put it out
The fire is ours
But is it ours to keep?

All these years
Looking back,
I’ve always felt
Lonely
But i have
Never felt this
Alone

Life dissapeared from MY chest,
As swiftly as you walked from,
My door.

I wanted to cry
I wanted to scream
I wanted to tear myself inside out,
I wanted to die

Feeling lonely, and being alone
Are two different things.
But realising that
Not only are you completely
Alone
But you are lonely
Too

That sound in my head, thats telling me to hang myself from the ceiling, the voice thats telling me im nothing, the noise that keeps repeating how lonely i am, how alone i am screams louder than ever before. Will it ever be quiet?

Should i keep sufflering?