Ouch
It's so **** painful

I don't know what to do
With the pain

I don't know what to do
With the knowledge that I did it to myself

My thumbs bleeding
Throbbing as if my heart was right in there
Yelling at me
Judging me for what I did

The worst part
Is the next time I'll see a bump
I'll just do it all over again
Until it scars my heart and my body forever

I feel guilty
But I know it's mostly his fault
I got it from him
He gave it to me
I know he doesn't notice
Or worse
He doesn't care how he impacts me

But all I can feel now is
Ouch
Outside and in

You can take photos of people
Things
Moments

I wish you could capture feelings too
So I can look at my smiling self
And remember that I I've done it before
So I can do it again
In moments like these
Where I feel that this terrible feeling
Will never end

There's this kid I know
Associated with making trouble
But quite wrongly so
Because before he even moves
They tell him to stop
As if they know squat

I always knew
That he wasn't really normal
I mean Penny’s dad never yelled
Or cried
Or switched all the time
But I didn't really obsess over it
Until I was around eight-maybe nine
Memories of the day
And the sound of his sobbing passing through the thin walls
Kept me awake

I did what they warn us not to do
I took my phone
And Googled
His problems
His symptoms
The things that I had to suffer from

There were too many questions
I needed answers
I needed solutions

People
We are all the same
You know
In some way
And we are also different

We are all alive
Though some don't feel that way
We all have fears
Different in many ways
We feel emotions
Some happy, some melancholy
We all cry sometimes
For different reasons, of course
We all want to be happy
Though some don't get to be, and think the result would be accomplished differently
We all want to be loved
But some don't get to be

And despite those difference
We should remember
We are all connected
Somehow
some way
So maybe
Let's not hate one another

Everything that goes up
Goes down

Everything that begins
Ends

Everything that lives
Dies

So what's the point of anything?
Or
So what's the point of everything!!?
At the very least
That's your choice

They don't understand
The reason I'm not crying
Not sobbing
And not yelling
Is because I am writing
"Liana, go to sleep!"
They tell me harshly
But it's what keeps me sane
Let me write
It doesn't hurt anyone
It's the only thing
That can calm me down

Even now
Many many years later
I still feel like the 2nd grader who sat under the slide and carved shapes into the mulch during recess
Sitting there
Watching everyone be normal
And just thinking thoughts

I look up at the ceiling fan
The brownish red wood of the five blades
Three bulbs shining down on me

It looks perfectly clean
Even kind of happy

Then I look at the other side of those blades
And I see dust
Grayness piling over eachother
On the other side of those blades
Is the silent suffering
Sometimes spilling over the edges
Though barely visible

If you don't look closely
You might have no idea
Plus, it doesn't really matter
It still fans you
And helps you feel good


Do you ever feel like the fan?
Or are you a person in this situation?
What do you notice?

"I don't know what to do!"
You cry
So I cut some warm carrot cake and make some tea
And we figure it out
If that's crying
Talking
Laughing
Making pro and con lists
Or just sitting their in silence
Eating

"I don't want to think about this right now!"
You cry
So we go outside
And I play some happy music
To dance to in the backyard to
And I make you run because it's hard and makes him not your biggest problem anymore

Oh, but me?
You have no idea what goes on in my mind
Or my life
Never once saw me cry
And you don't ask anything
You never thought to ask why

For I am there for you
And that's all you need it to be
But what about me?
What about when I need to talk, or dance?
Why should I have to do that alone?

When I'm asked
"Are you an introvert of an extrovert?"
I respond
"It depends who I'm with"

Out my window
Is darkness
Where there used to be light

Bare trees
Where there used to be colorful leaves

Houses
Filled with memories

And the sky
Holding nothing
And everything

I look up at it
Think of poetry
And wonder
All the whys

I look up at it
Try to find the star that I made my dog's the day he died
Try to feel okay
Try to be calm

I feel so small
Which is what I am
Just a microb
In this big
Scary world

I wonder
What the view
From their window
Looks like
For everyone else
In this very same neighborhood
Maybe even same street

Maybe looking at the same house
Same blade of grass
But seeing things entirely differently

I refuse to be nonchalant
I will be that person who's smile gets wider when they see you
Starts jumping up and down
I will be that person who cries every time a dog in a movie died
If something funny happens
Why wouldn't I let myself laugh?
If I see that the sunset looks especially pretty one night
I'll say it randomly in conversation
And I'll dance with my friends while listening to music on our way to buy random things from Walgreens at 11:00pm
If the sounds are too overwhelming
I'll go to hide in the bathroom
And yeah, if I see you cry
I'll probably cry too

Dear, Monster Of A Being

Hello,
I just wanted to tell you
That I hope
The next time you take a chocolate chip cookie
All the chocolate chips
Turn out to be raisins
I also hope
That your allergic to grapes

You're welcome,
Your Secret Hater

To a stranger
I might look weak
Crying at 11:00pm
Outside in the cold
Headphones on

I might look crazy
Spinning
Reaching out to the far away stars
Standing on a tree stump in front of a random house
My favorite place to be
Waving at every passing airplane
Wondering if they're waving back to me

Maybe a bit strange
For most teens don't go outside to walk
Especially so late at night
Alone
For that

But I know
If I was the stranger
Looking out their bedroom window
Watching
I would smile

In class
When someone spots my bleeding thumb
Before saying anything to me
Thinking anything
They raise their hand
And say
"Mrs. S! Mrs. S! She's bleeding!

My head screams
"No no no no no"
As I walk to the nurse
What will she say?
What will she do?
Will she ask me questions?
Luckily she didn't
She barely glanced at me
And told me where the bandaids were
Phew!

I wonder what would happen if she saw how bad it looked though...

All my life
I had strived to be normal

Once I finally move to this new school
I will be normal
...I wasn't

Once I style my hair differently
I will be normal
...I wasn't

Once I join this club
I will be normal
...I wasn't

I never was
No matter the rules I made
The clothes I wore
The school I went to

No matter how many how many YouTube videos on how to make friends I watched
The techniques I tried
And the books I read

Now
Only now
Do I finally accept
And take pride in
The fact that I am weird


Now
I try to find
Other weirdos like me
And make them my friends
Instead of the copy pasted people

I am weird
But I am weird
In a good way

For the next two days
I'll be off and away
In the middle of nowhere
Where no one wants to be

For the next two days
I'll have no electronics
And that means no phone
And that means, I won't be on here

For the next two days
I hope you all can forgive me
For I will be forced to take a break

Do I write too much?
All of these words
Accumulating so fast
Just waiting to be let out
They're getting clasutrapjobic
What can I say?
I wish I would stop
I ask them if I may
They say no
Not in a harsh tone
But just one saying that they need to be let go
"Okay" I tell them
It feels good after all
But do I write too much?
The question still stands tall

Some people
Are choking back tears
Always

I tell myself
That I'm okay without them
I've done it most of my life anyhow
But sometimes now
I start to feel lonely

Either way
The people at lunch who I sit with
They don't count
Because I don't talk to them
Or even look up at them
I am in my own world

Maybe because
It has been this way forever
I've come to live with the fact
I will be without them
That at school
I am a loner
Sitting there
Staring into space
Tolerated

I still hope though
Which like it does with everything else
With this it makes me disappointed again
For I am still left
Without them

I would prefer
That he would seem completely
Bad

But I got a really confusing mix
That makes me head go crazy

He knows how to manipulate
Without seeming manipulative

Word things
So that you can't say no

And tell you untrue statements
Until you feel you don't even know what you know

But he does it in a way
That looks ever so innocent

He does it in a way that looks as if
he's in the right
Like the victim to an unheard of crime

It confuses me
And though I know he's wrong
And that he lies
It messes up my mind
All the time

I would prefer
That he would look completely
Bad
Than whatever this is

IwishIcouldhugthemallofthepeoplewhoeverhadtofeelthisawfulawfulfee­lingoflonelinessandunwillingnesstomoveortalkoropentheireyes Iwanttotellthemthatit'sokaythey'reokaythey'renotalonetheyaren'tth­eonlypersonhavingapanicattackinthebathroomtheyweren'tthe onlyoneswhofeelthisbadandIwanttoheartheir storiesandIwantthemtohearmineIwishwecouldallgotoafarawaylandawayf­arfromtheruinersoflivesandthethingsthatmakeyouwanttocommitsuicide­Iwanttotellthemthey'renottheonlyoneswhofeelthekeyboardintheirmind­isglitchingmakingnopunctuationorspaceforabreakfromthought

Pen
To paper
Words flooding out
Ones I could never be able
To say outloud

Today
I am going back home
After a month
Of being on road
I really don't want to go
At home I feel so alone
Waiting for me is my nearly empty house
The hundreds of people I see daily that I don't care for
Don't talk to
Make me feel as small as a mouse
Waiting for me is my toddler of father
And the endless hours of work
All of the peace in my mind
Lit up by a torch
Waiting for me are the sleepless nights
Oh how ill miss performing and the people I met
The kindness that often cannot be found in my town in America
I don't want to go home

I need to start doing recaps
when I come home
So I know what I am capable of that day
That way
I don't end up exploded and exhausted
My splattered insides looking up at me
From all over the room
Something I can't just clean up with a broom

I wish on 11:11
Not because I believe that will make it come true
But because it makes me wish

I want to write something beautiful
But my thoughts and my heart aren't there right now
And that's where I write from

So everything I write is messy and weird

And probably a little unhealthy

Maybe a little stuck too

I could watch the fire forever
It wraps itself around the wood
And they sing together
A beautiful, crackling song
Just hearing it
Makes you calm

Fire is something people yell in their last minutes
And something that eliminates all feelings wrong

It is hypnotizing
But in a way that you still feel in control
It makes you warm
Inside and out
It's sad that it's also a result of drought

Nevertheless,
I could watch it dance
Forever

It's not often
That I can't find words for something

Though often
I see them
Except I can't pick them up and order them
There's a glass barrier in the way

When I can't use words
Is when there something big to say

I just need a moment to contemplate
And order my brain
To find the best tool
To smash the glass getting in the way

I fear you
Everyday
Every moment
You're a silent scream
always taunting me
You're unpredictable
Will I see tomorrow?
Will they see a tomorrow?
Why am I still in bed worrying
When there's a whole world?
I fear the last times
The last times I don’t even know are last times
My head takes me to places no one wants to go
You take them away from us
Anyone has the power to use you
We have to trust each other
But not too much
to avoid you

Dear death,
How dare you?

Yes
I may have not saved the world
There are many still suffering
Many still dying
Many still crying

But
I'm proud to say
I have saved A world

I have saved that street cat's world
I have saved that person's world
Who knows
I could have saved a stranger's world

Yes
I didn't save the whole wide world
There are too many problems to solve alone
Even so
I have saved a world
The world for one
And that's enough

I cry
Cry
Cry

I make my mother sigh

I know little me would have been confused because I thought big kids don't cry
Only daddy did
Every night
Even then I knew he wasn't big
I guess


I cry
Cry
Cry

I make my mother sigh

She doesn't know how to help me
I relate to that honestly


I cry
Cry
Cry

I make my mother sigh

She's sad that she's sees herself in me
I don't know why
Why
Why

Dear, Someone

I hope you heart will heal
Your soul freed
The life life you want
No longer out of reach
Your ideas set free
And your mind at ease

If these have already happened to you
Which I don't know
How did you do it?
Oh how I would like to know

I hope you respond
In some way or another
In the meantime though
Good morning, afternoon, or night
And I wish you the best
For the rest of your life

From,
A stranger

You say good day sunshine

I say bad day and now it's nighttime

I still have so much to get done
And I'm angry
At myself
My teachers
My "friends"
My "dad"
And the world

When I'm not escaping
In my social media, walks, books, art, music, or poetry
I am thinking
But thoughts are dangerous and scary
So I'll stick to escaping
And when I'm forced to look up
Into the scary world
I will use it as inspiration
And I will try to make it less scary for those who haven't found their best escape yet
And for those like me
Reluctantly looking up

He is the kind of manipulative
That makes question yourself
And your memory
So I found a loophole
I record everything
On my phone
So I can check to make sure

It's sad that I have to do this
With my own father
But I need to
For me mentally

For some
When the clock hits midnight
The new day has started
They're in their bed all cozy and asleep
And then they're people like me
Where the terrors have just begun

Now is the time to pay
For the work you have procrastinated from
And the feeling locked up

At midnight most of the world resembles my thoughts----
Dark
Which never helps much

12:00 the clock reads
My head messes with the number as it always does
1+2=3
Three is a bad number
But twelve can be divided by six
And equal two
Two is a good number
Obviously

I hate math
But my head does this with times such as midnight
And generally bittersweet things

Memories of walking around in circles during recess
12345678
12345678
I repeated until it was over

Midnight feels unreal
But too real at the same time

Midnight
I wish I was asleep
But I'm kind of afraid to be
How can I be so tired, but not sleepy?

Midnight
You confuse me

You don't deserve to be written about
But I deserve to let the anger go
And that's all I can do as of now
So here we are
And you find yourself in another poem of mine

I will be trying to forgive
Not because deserve to be forgiven
You haven't apologized
But because I need that peace in my heart

Don't worry though
I'll never
Forget
I'll make sure of it
I need to remember
So I don't get this hurt again

That first night
When I lost him
I went to my backyard
Looked up at the stars
Picked one and decided
That was my dog Sandy

On my hands and knees
I cried to it hours
Outside in the cold
Asking why he left me
To face this world
Alone

I told him
How id never forgive him
But please come back
I miss you so much
It's all I ask

I made sure he knew
That I was sorry I didn't walk him that day
That I wish he would be there on my bed
Lying next to me
That I miss his bad breath
And even his high-pitched barks

My mom comes to get me
Also in tears
"What can I do?"
She asks
"Bring him back"
I answer

And now
Whenever I miss him
I pick a star
And using my mind
I talk to him again
Knowing that he doesn't actually hear me
But still taking comfort in it

My therapist told me
That you said
You wanted to be friends

She didn't understand how messed up that was

I don't want to be his friend
I don't need my father as a friend
I need him as a parent
And a good one at that

You choose your friends
I don't choose you

You're forced to be someone's child
Like I was to you
Except you want to be my friend
I don't want you

My mom had an escape
She divorced him
And even then
It took her a child
And 25 years

I'm stuck
He's in my bones
There's nothing I can do
Except choose not to be friends with him

I want to be his daughter
And for that he has to be my dad
Thats on him

Step one:
Be an adult

*Failed

My mother,
She claims that I need it
Because I
"Have a lot going on"
But I'm quite clear on my thoughts
And I pretty sure I know what I want
And that she won't tell me anything I don't know
She is nice and all
But I don't believe she can help me with squat
My therapy is poetry
And long walks
Not an old lady writing notes in an office

I am aware of my problems
I know my mistakes
And I know how deal with the ones
I didn't even make
How?
Years of experience

Plus, when I ask her questions
She just asks me ones back
When I needed answers

It might be helpful for some
Which is great
But for me
It doesn't work that way

I am aware of what's going on in my head
I think I even know too much about it honestly

Suicide
Parents dying
Crying
Crying
Crying

We're too young for this

Scissors cutting into skin
Not eating or eating too much
Kids raising parents

We're too young for this

Panic attacks
Everlasting loneliness
I pull off skin
They pull out hair

We're too young for this

Body dysmorphia eating so many alive
Social media getting them addicted and ruining their limited time
Feeling empty inside

We're too young for this

Psych wards
Abuse
People killed from war
War is old but it continues to destroy homes

We're too young for this

Sleepless nights
Death is a joke now
And so is autism

We're too young for this

Drug prevention lessons every week
It started in 6th grade
They don't help though at all

We're too young for this

Barely even teens
What happened to us?

The noise and messyness of life
Surrounding me constantly
I've learned to think in verse

The
Breaks
Between
The
Lines
Help
Me
So

To think in verse
oh
It is so not a curse

It makes the simplest things
Seem fascinating
And the biggest things
Less scary

Thinking in verse
Makes me merry

Ideas floating through my head
Making it less haunting for me when I'm in bed

I've learned to think in verse
It gives me such perspective

I've learned to think in verse
Making my thoughts branch out
And out
Into something crazy

I learned to think in verse
And it might be because my free time
Is poetry immersed

In and out
And out and in
Poetry made
And
Poetry forgotten

Thinking in verse
Pulls me away
And toward
This beautiful and treacherous world