Love people whose names you aren't afraid to speak at high volumes.
Names that can stain your teeth with melancholy as they paint over laugh lines of euphoria.
Love a name that tells you a story as it rolls off your tongue, syllables as sweet as children in summertime.
What is in a name?
Mothers, fathers, lovers, wanderers.
Love a name worth remembering.

during the spring
he stared at his lap
and didn't listen in class
when his friends talked to him he snapped
his eyes revealed nothing
of the emotions he capped

during the summer
he didn't leave home
and wore long jumpers

during the autumn  
the news came out
about how he hit rock bottom
and took his life away
with the swipe of a knife

I wish I could stop all the time around me.
But keep moving, myself.
So I could have time.
And see it all.
And get better.
And know what to do.

It's not an option.
So I have to do these things
while everyone keeps moving.
Which makes it all more complicated.
And confusing.
And hard.

Please know I hear your offers for help.
And appreciate them.
But I cannot accept.
Helping me is just not something that will actually help me.
I have to sort this,
with out anyone else.

But...
It's so loud.
And Oh!
It's too much.
The white interference.
A symphonic cacophony.
And I'm just more (and more)
lost than before.
Caught in a tide.
Frantic to hide.
Drowning.
And I want to stop.
Breathing.

Yours,

Trouble

I knew a girl who liked to draw,
she drew pictures that nobody saw.
She was most artistic late at night,
in the bedroom, out of sight.
She kept it a secret, without giving any clues,
not a soul knew, and her gallery grew and grew.
It was a different kind of art, no paper or pen,
but needed some stitches or bandage now and again.
I took her to the dark and murky river,
which reminded me of my life.
It was then when she rolled up his sleeves,
and showed me her scars with embarrassed eyes.
I laughed at Irony,  and rolled mine up too,
"I draw as well", i whispered and stood.
Taking her hand, we jumped into the river,
and  rain of white feathers fell.
That's when the demons quited,
and the river turned clear  as the sun rose up ahead.

This isnt real. This it's all a bad dream. But the only way out isn't as easy as it seems. If I fail I'm stuck here forever and if I don't then another dream will be never.

Would you shut up for five seconds?
I wish I could say this to your face,
But you'd demolish my feelings.
Lecture me about my age.

I don't have to grow up yet.
Better yet, I refuse to.
Age is just a number to me.
I ignore your opinions, I have my own views.

I told my mom that I wanted to go to New York after I graduate.
But she said no because I have bad anxiety.
Now I know that she just means that she won't support the idea.
Or if I asked, she would say no.
And I understand that she's just worried about me.
But if I don't go due to anxiety.
Then all that does is say that anxiety controls my life.
That it controls how I act.
Basically,  that means that it defines me and who I am.
And even though I have it.
It DOES NOT define me and who I am as a person.
Anxiety is just a PART of me.
And saying that I can't go because I'm anxious isn't right.
That means that my anxiety wins.
That means that it limits what I can and can't do.
There are things about New York that I like and wanna see.
There are people that go there.
And I would like to see them when they go there at times.
Also, there are colleges there.
And I know that they have colleges for acting and/or singing.
And those are two things I love.
And I'm not gonna let my anxiety keep me from going there.
I know that my mom means well.
But once I turn eighteen and graduate high school.
Then it's my decision.
Then I'm the one who determines if I can go or not.
And unless I don't have money.
There won't be anything keeping me from going.
As long as I am calm.
As long as I take deep breaths and know that I'm safe.
Know that it's big.
But it's also a great place where I can learn and have fun.
Which makes me excited.
I know this means that I will need to get a job.
But I will get one.
And did I mention that there are colleges in New York?
I mean, of course there are.
Don't get me wrong, I mean, I've known that all along.
But just never really thought of it.
Not until now when I'm in my Junior year of High School.
One more year and that's it.
One more year and I am out in the real world 365 days.
Every single day of my life.
And I know that I will be a stranger there till I meet people.
But that's nothing new.
The only thing that'll be new is how I handle being alone.
I can hide in the corner.
Or I can face my fears and go there with my head high.
I can say hi to people.
I can smile and nod at others who acknowledge me.
How will I get there?
I'm not sure about how I'll get there at the moment.
Maybe I'll get accepted.
A college might like my application that I send to them.
Or I'll just visit.
Get a job so I can pay for travel and to see a show there.
Or my YouTube Channel.
Yes, I have a YouTube Channel that I use twice a week.
That might help me.
Maybe I can make a career out of my YouTube Channel.
Now, don't argue with me.
I know that it's rare when people make a career off of that.
But I still love it.
I love making videos of myself singing and/or talking.
Not because of my voice.
Because those who know me know I don't like my voice.
I don't know why.
I've just always thought that I wasn't a good singer.
But I think that out of those who know me and teachers.
And then some online.
The only one who truly doesn't like my voice is me.
I'm my own worse critic.
If I see something negative about me I delete it.
Not because it's rude.
Well, that's part of it, but mainly because of me.
My mind will absorb that.
And then I will eventually will start to believe it.
Which is a form of anxiety.
Feeling anxious about how others think of you.
But the truth is.
If people are saying negative things about you.
Either to you or near you.
Or if they are saying something negative online.
Then don't listen.
Because they don't know you or who you are.
They just see the outside.
They don't know how you think or feel.
How could they?
They've never met you or got to know you.
All they know is online.
What they see in a three to ten minute video.
So don't listen.
Don't let what they say that's bad hurt you.
But if you do listen.
Then let it fuel you to be better than before.
Show them who you are.
Don't pay attention when they call you names.
Because they're wrong.
It doesn't matter who you are, they're wrong.
Pay attention to some.
The people who are praising you online.
Who like your voice.
Who like your style and are interested in you.
They want more.
They wanna see you twice a week, they like you.
Your videos mean a lot.
They mean a lot to those people who subscribe.
And they subscribe to you.
Because they like your videos and wanna see more.
Post what you want.
Sing one day and then talk the other, it's your choice.
It's your channel.
And that's what I have to tell myself when I upload.
Whenever I read comments.
And I do read all the comments I get when I get'em.
I don't get a lot.
And I still have a lot to learn when I respond.
I gotta learn to stifle.
Just say thanks and then be done with the person.
I need to do that.
Sometimes I get happy though and forget to.
But I'll get better.
For now, I need to focus on what I wanna do.
Which is make videos.
Wait a minute, what am I talking about now?
Sorry, got off topic.
This is about anxiety, not my YouTube Channel.
Okay, back to anxiety.
As I was saying, I will do what I can to manage it.
I will go there.
I will go to New York one way or another.
Not because I have to.
But because I want to for more reasons than one.
Even if my anxiety is bad.
Which I can admit that it is at times every day.
But I'll get through it.
Anxiety is not going to control me and define me.
I'm going to New York.
The only one who can control that destiny is myself.
And I will get there.
I don't know how or when, but I will.
Let this be a message.
A message for anyone who has to deal with anxiety.
It's not your life.
Anxiety doesn't control you if you don't let it.
Anxiety is a part of you.
But that's all it is, it's just a part of you that sticks.
But it gets better.
And if it can get better for me, than it will for you.

To the girls who are secretly so broken
You WILL be alright
I know you have scars on your soul
Maybe your heart
Possibly your wrists
None of this is your fault
And even if you think it is
Let it go
Not that you can, that easily
But try
I know you are broken
I know you're not okay
Especially when people ask how you are and you answer "I'm fine"
When what you really mean is "I'm alive"
But what do you really care about your own survival anymore
Well I just want you to know
There is beauty in broken glass
And to me
There is immeasurable beauty
In broken girls
So don't you ever forget
You cannot be defined by pain
You're too beautiful for that
Stay strong, broken girl
Nothing is ever really broken

just let me go.
just let me leave.
I'm tired of all this pain,
all the never-ending rain.
so it's about time I said goodbye.
and slipped quietly into the night
maybe then you can see
what life has done to me.
I know you'll care more once I'm gone.
you'll think what could I have done, what did I do wrong.
so the time is finally here.
there's no hope for me, no cheer.
goodbye I say to you all.
and I hope that none of you feel the same fall.