There is a voice inside of everyone's head
Who it is, that's up to you.
Some claim It to be God
Others a copy of themselves.
The voice inside my head
Her name is Amory.
She hates when I feel good.
She takes good people and morphs them
Into terrible souls of torture and agony.
She often tells me to do bad things.                                                          ­ S
I feel I have no control over her, rather,
She is the one controlling me.
She toys with me via anxiety
Tossing my emotions every which way.
She has no mercy to give
And no requests to take.
Everyone has a voice in their head.
Who is yours?

What a lovely day it is today.
A wonderful summer day.
The sun is sHining,
The clouds are gone
And the water is cool.
Not a thing can go wrong.                                                                           E
My family is happy
And so am I.
We all Love each other,
Just like a normal family should.
When we are all together,
No one ever fights or yells.                                                                          P
We all are so happy,
In our little Wisconsin home.

I have a box
It contains something
Something I am proud of
Something I built,
Something I created.
It is the crown jewel of my life.
But wait -- don't look in the box!
You must trust what I say.
Believe what I say is in the box.
If you saw it, you would be most certainly saddened.
Not because the object is horrifying
Or because it is explicit.
It's because if you looked inside
You'd find nothing at all.
You'd find that you did not trust me,
And because of that you discovered the truth.
You tore away my façade, the one thing I held dear
But you did something else that I did not expect.
You did not turn away.
You did not anger.
Instead, you filled my box with love
And so it became a real treasure,
Celebrated by the both of us.
You filled an empty space that was once a false life.
You saved me,




















M/\®l

You see, I know a girl
She's quite beautiful,
She's very funny.
She loves everyone
And has no mistakes to be made.
But my mind,
A desolate, dark plane
Has taken this joyful girl
And twisted her so.
She became a darkness to me,
My mind hated the fact that she made me feel joy.
A brutal pit I threw her into;
Each time I close my eyes
She dies

over...

and over...

and over...

By my hands
An endless bloodspatter,
A Hell with no escape.
I want to **** her so bad
But why?
What leads me to feel this way?
Why has her image been so bent and misshapen?
It's as if I put her in a funhouse,
Amidst all the mirrors,
Twisting and turning her.
She is trapped inside my mind,
A place where she will die,
Brutally,

over...

and over...

*and over...

I remember that day, yes.
The very first moment I laid eyes on you.
You were stunning, something about you was just different.
I had no choice but to talk to you.
And look at us now -- separated but still together,
miles away but still connected.
The chakra that comes off of you is most reflected in love --
but I saw that coming.
Oh, my beautiful Mari.
You are my best friend, my confidant, my go-to-gal.
One day.
I will see those eyes of your again.
I will feel that heartbeat again.
I will kiss you, something I regret not doing.
You will see me again.
Whether it be a minute or a year from now,
I will be there.
Hold on, love.
I'm coming home.

It was probably 2 in the morning.
I was out and about.
All of a sudden, I had this feeling.
This welling inside me to ****.
I laid my eyes upon a young girl.
She was probably in her mid-twenties.
She had fiery red hair and ocean blue eyes.
She walked with precedence and attitude.
She would be the one.
I followed her to her apartment, where she went to her bedroom.
I eyed her through the window, watching as she got in her bed.
Just as she had turned the light off, I slipped through her open window to observe her further.
She was already fast asleep, her body still.
I was about to make that permanent.
I went around the side of the bed.
I had brought with me nothing but my bare hands.
I slapped her ******* the cheek to wake her from her slumber.
Then, I grabbed for her throat and straddled her at the waist, pinning her.
I pushed my thumbs into her neck, choking her.
She gasped for air.
She dug her fingers into my chest, trying to break free.
But I just pushed, harder, harder,
until I felt it.
Each bone in her neck
pop crack crunch
The agony now rendered on her face as a horrific snarl.
Her body stopped.
She was paralyzed.
I let off her neck.
She gasped, trying to regain her breath.
She called out in agony as the pain set in.
Then, I grabbed a small glass from off the nightstand.
With all of the force my body could acquire,
I slammed the glass full force into her head.
I exploded in a spray of glass shards and blood.
She red water matched the color of her hair as it dripped down her face.
I saw it.
The light go out in her eyes.
And that was it.
*RIP Ms. Scarlet, ????-2018

I used to know love.
It used to live here, inside my soul.
It would fill me with joy.
It would light up when I saw Her.
But She was not real.
Love had tricked me,
A ***** trick indeed.
It had tossed me a false person, a figment of my imagination.
It caused so much despair and pain that I cast love aside.
I am afraid of it.
Love hurt me.
And it hadn't even really existed in the first place.
She was beautiful and strong and intelligent.
But She was gone before I could even realize she was not real.
Now, my soul has a scar.
It has since then retired to the darkest corners,
Reeling in my subconscious,
Collecting dust.

She
She is a woman
She is extraordinarily talented.
She can do whatever She wants.
She can be whatever She pleases.
She doesn't take orders from anyone.
She does not stoop lover than He.
She is actually quite equal to He.
She has a kind soul.
She has a sweet heart.
She was created so He would not be alone.
But She was not created to live in ******* to He.
She was created to help He and to be with him.
But this does not mean She must be with He.
She can be with She.
She can be with It.
She can be with whomever She wishes.
She cannot be tamed.
She will ride on in fury to all those who might oppose Her,
so that She can live in peace.

The world loves you, She.
Don't ever leave us.

To fear one's own mind
Is to fear the very thing that states who you are.
Can you trust it?
No, you cannot.
But some will say they can
They struggle against it's will
They twist and turn
And they revel and burn
But none who dare hear it's thoughts
Ever came out alive.
So, I ask you
"What does this mean?"
Well.
That is for your mind to decide.

This is a reflection on the things I did in 2017. It is not a poem, but rather a list of things that happened in my life.

- I gained, lost, gained, lost, and gained a friend
- I fell in love
- I was renewed by my faith
- My father got a detox
- I discovered my true self
- I had 15 anxiety attacks
- I witnessed terrible attacks on U.S. soil
- I almost committed suicide twice
- I lied to my best friend twice
- I bonded with my family
- I discovered HePo
- I learned to draw & animate
- I got kitties!
- I got 80% of my school on my side
- I completed semester 1 of Freshman year


But most importantly...
I lived another year

There was a creek
Down in a hidden island
Called ******* Creek
Those who went down
And stood in it's waters
Were said to have drowned,
Crippled by the waters
Crippled by the stream
Crippled by the cold

So, I wander down to the creek
With hope that the waters
Might drown out my feelings
That they might sweep away the pain

So, I wander down to the ******* Creek
Hoping for it to take me
And one day I'll return
Anew, refreshed

Could you imagine
What it might be like
To be a camera
You might see...

France

A family

Beautiful forests

But what if your owner was a serial killer
Then you might see...

Blood

Death

Pain

Yes... a camera is a daring job.

It was quicker than light
It was over before it even started
I saw her
I killed her
That was it.
I walked up to her
And bam
The knife pierced her throat
She grabbed my wrists,
Trying to pull away.
She looked like she might scream
But she was unable, for the knife was blocking her from doing so.
So she sat, hands on my wrists, mouth wide open,
Before I ripped the knife out
She fell to her knees,
Looked down at the ground,
As blood streamed from her mouth
She fell down, face first
In the pool of crimson water
I walked a way
Without a thought
Of who she was
Or who she used to be

It was three in the morning,
I thought I heard something in the wind
A voice calling to me
"Come to me."
And so
With curiosity fresh in my mind,
A staggered out into the moonlit night
And there she sat, upon a stone
Next the creek.
The closer I got,
The more she faded.
And when I was right there in front of her,
She said
"She needs you."
And so she disappeared
That cold, quiet night
And I went back to my bed
And wondered to myself,
"Who is 'she'?"
And then it hit me.
Mari.
I woke once again,
The sun peeking over the horizon
And I set out in search of her,
My beloved.
My best friend.

*The only one who matters.

I will lie here in my bed
Contemplating with my head
How it is you tick
What drives your soul
What makes your mind work
Because it isn't your heart
That stopped ages ago
I will try to look inside
Your misty eyes for the answer
I look for something mechanical; a clock, a pacemaker
The thing that makes you tick
The thing that gives you life
It isn't your brain
That stopped last night
When I told you how I felt
But still you seem to move on, working fine
With no heart, no smart
And so I will lie here in my bed
Contemplating with my head
How it is you tick

There once was a man named Good
He loved to make people happy,
He loved to make them laugh.
He helped people stay on track
And prevented anything bad.
But his brother, on the other hand
His name was Evil
All he wanted to do was drain the happiness from people's souls,
He wanted to see them cry.
He pushed people askew
And turned their souls from Good.
Now that I think about it
Evil must have touched me
Because I can only seem to do all the wrong things
And hurt everyone else's souls
Sending their way the message of Evil,
Driving out Good.

Winter is that time of year
When the sky's tears freeze to the fears
Of the cold air that they fall through.
Winter is that time of year
When my heart becomes cold and bitter
Waiting on spring to melt and bloom it.
Winter is that time of year
When the rivers and lakes freeze
And my legs shake with unease
Winter is that time of year.

The pieces of glass
That have fallen on the floor
Were from the shattered glass pane
That was your trust
I was tapping, tapping, tapping on the glass
Testing you
Seeing how much pressure you could take
But then, I tapped much too hard
And just like a window
The glass pane exploded
Sending shards of false trust everywhere
Cutting you and me
The pieces of glass
Lying on the floor
Are much to small to pick up and put back together
So you say, "What's the point?"
And I reply, "There is no point.
But as we rebuild our friendship
The glass seems to pick itself up, reassembling into a thinner pane this time
While I cannot resist tapping the glass, inserting my lies,
This time I will not break it.

Sometimes
Actually, a lot of times
I get that feeling
That feeling that makes me want to fire the gun
Let the lead bury itself into my brain, ending my life
Letting the crimson fluid, the life-sustenance bleed from my body and run onto the white carpet, forever marking my death.
Yes, sometimes I would like to take my own life, feel the breath drain from my lungs.
Sometimes I feel this way due to recent events
Other times I feel it due to an anxiety welling up inside me
One that cannot be quenched by even the most potent of medications
Sometimes, suicide sounds nice.

I must have drank a lot of pain
Judging by the way it aches
Must have sold a lot of secrets.
Now everybody knows
What my soul really thinks
Of my mind's painful decisions.
My soul, reaching out in agony,
Waiting for a response from the broken clock of my consciousness
I used to tick a regular beat, a steady beat
But now it's all over the place
Some days it ticks faster than I can count, shooting me soaring into a high
Others it ticks slower, seconds turning into minutes; minutes to hours, sending me into the depths of a Hellish low.
This is known by medical professionals as bipolar disorder
But I know it simply as pain.

It's interesting to think
That we are damaging the Earth as we speak
But still, we continue to spew our poison into the atmosphere,
Polluting the air with something we know we cannot breathe
"Just a little more, and then we'll stop", we say,
But still, we burn.
It's almost like how people work
When they pollute the minds of each other
With useless nonsense; a black smoke, created by the words we say and entering each others heads when they hear them.
It's unhealthy. Just like the carbon dioxide,
The useless words we say have little to no meaning.
But very unlike the physical pollution,
We can stop it.
We can turn it around.
But human greed prevents this.
And thus is born an interesting thought.

Oh, Jáckie,
With your heart of gold
And your head of intelligence,
You manage to stir in the emotion
For which we miss.
Your love is ever-extending
Just as your fear of being alone is great.

Oh, Jáckie,
You will never fall for them
Their whippets of lies
And their arrows of agony
They can't hit you
But you can only run from them
Run you will, for they will chase you forever.

Oh, Jáckie,
Music to your ears
Is everyone else's fears
You gain from pain
You wallow from heartfelt
Is it their sorrow from which you feed?
Or is it the blood that streams free...

Oh, Jáckie...

How frustrating
And so degrading
This time were wasting
It's like were blind to the life were hating
So much for life
I might need a knife
Because sometimes in order to live
You have to **** your mind.

Fear.
What is fear?
Well, fear is different for everyone.
To me, fear is the ability to stand behind the unknown,
To run from it.
Some people experience specific fears,
Such as spiders or the dark.
Some have fears of other-worldly things,
Like aliens or gods.
I have one simple fear.
You.
I have a fear that you are reading this, thinking "who is she to tell me how I feel?"
Well, I can't tell you how I feel. That is simply...
Fear.