Today I felt like more of an outcast
Than I actually am.

But you won't read this.

I have failed you,
And disappointed myself.
And for that my guilt will swallow me whole.

But you won't read this.

I am getting better,
But it's taking me awhile.
I wish you could understand
How hard I'm trying.

But you won't read this,
At least,
Not tonight.

The rain drums like tapping finger nails on my window.

I shiver and I shake.

The sun forces his way through reluctant clouds.

My hands are covered in scars and burns.

Birds sing a melody of soft awakening.

It sounds much too close, so I poke my head out of the doorway. There is nothing.

Flowers begin to bloom while others begin to wilt.

I feel as though I am both wilted and am in the process of becoming.

I shed this skin of shields, and wear my heart on my sleeve.

It is a vulnerable state, for there are predators amongst the pack.

What I fear the most is that I am one of those predators.

The wolf gives a mourning howl, soft and low. Filled with a lonesome, melodramatic sorrow.

The rain threatens to pick up again.

I escape it's hold, for rain is necessary, though I dislike it.

My name has been sullied, blackened. And why not?

The prey only lies.

The wolves are painted as predators because they tell the truth.

So I will leave my sun drenched corner and go headfirst towards the rain.

I will dance with wolves.

I'm not much.
I don't know how much I have to offer.
I cook.
I clean.
I'm always thinking of you,
And things I could do
To make you smile.

Whether it be food to make
(Which always seems to fail)
Or books to give
(At least it gets some reaction)
Or, sadly, ***.

And that one is the one that eats me up inside.

Because I crave ***, but only with you.
And I use it as a tool
To validify myself.
Because I'm not pretty
Or worthwhile
Unless I can serve a purpose.

People say you deserve the love you try ao hard to give to everyone else.

They also say that if you expect the same from people that you give, you'll always be disappointed.

I guess the point is, I am only valued for as long as I am useful.

I'm waiting for your voice,
And I'm waiting for you.
I could wait forever,
But I'm sure I won't have to.

I wish I could ease your worries,
I wish I could calm your mind.
I wish I could love you properly,
But that will come in due time.

I am waiting
For your arms around my waist,
I am waiting
For a closing of this space.

I am getting better.
I am stronger than before.
I know it will take lots of time,
But every day this better grows a little more.

I want to make you proud,
I want to make you smile.
I want to be what makes your heart flutter,
As you've been mine for awhile.

I was always told
As if it were praise,
About how strong I am (emotionally).
About how determined I am,
About how much of a fighter I am.

My mother says: "We're all so proud of you, and anyone who isn't is delusional."

But I don't feel so strong anymore.
I don't feel very brave.
I don't feel like a fighter.

All this bravado I put forth for my mother,
And my siblings when they actually speak to me,
Just isn't enough.
I can't do it in front of you,
Because that front I have
Is such *******.

I'm vulnerable and scared,
And my confidence only comes out
In deflective smart remarks,
That have a tendency of offending
Most people,
And I'm sure sometimes even you.

I just want to be better.
I just want to be stronger.
But I'm nowhere near better,
And I don't feel very strong.

I only break when I know I'm allowed to.

I have to be stronger than this.
I'm too smart for my own good,
And I have a golden heart
With a rebel yell.

I am better than this.

I am stronger than this.

I'll be okay.

In
1, 2, 3.
Out
1, 2, 3, 4.

In
1, 2, 3.
Out
1, 2, 3, 4.

This breathing exercise
Won't change a thing.
But at least
I won't feel so much like
I'm drowning myself.

This distance between us
Is something I've become
Vividly aware of.
Much like my veins,
Much like my faults.

Maybe it's just me,
But I'd get frustrated with me too.
I know because I am me.
I live in my head.

I am ever the curious,
And ever the wondering.
Ever the insecure,
Forever grasping at straws
Hoping that I'd find that one virtue
About me
That will make me worthwhile.

I breathe,
Very aware of the expanding lungs beneath my ribcage,
The pulsating, blood filled heart in my chest.
Beating and beating and beating
Crying and crying and crying out:
Please just love us, we're all trying so hard!
Demanding that I follow it
To the end of time.

In
1, 2, 3.
Out,
1, 2, 3, 4.

I am red with determination.
I refuse to let the darkness,
As I spiral farther into madness,
Consume me whole.

If it may consume me,
It'll at least be stuck with
One hell of a fight.

I am blue with steady hands, steady voice.
I am not one to give in,
And if I've made it this far,
I can make it farther.

I am green like the grass,
Green like the trees,
Green like flowers that haven't blossomed yet.

I am lively,
I am strong.
I will not allow
Myself to crumble.

I have come too far
Not to go farther.