I am too emotional.
I am overbearing.
I am too reliant.
I am simply too much.

That's what you say.
And that's alright.

I love you,
but sometimes I wish I didn't.
Sometimes I wish to escape,
but that's the part I keep to myself.

I used to imagine a future-
and I was genuinely excited to see
exactly what was meant to be.

Now that future has disappeared-
and I’m scared to walk this trail
knowing that everything I try will only fail.

If I were to scream
while drowning in water
would anyone hear me?

The only thing on my mind
Is how badly I want
To run a blade across my wrist
And feel an outer hurt
Because I’m tired of the within

I’m not pretty- I’m depressed.
I have cuts and scars lining my wrists.
I’m always sleeping or not at all,
dark circles rest under my eyes permanently.
I’m either too fat or too skinny,
and I can’t remember the last time I ate.
I fake a smile and a laugh,
but in conversation my mind is far away.
I wear dark oversized clothing to hide
because my insecurities keep me afraid.
I self isolate out of fear that I’ll mess it all up-
but I fear being alone.
I’m not pretty, I’m depressed.

I keep dropping everything for you,
but you won't help me pick anything up.
Instead, you drag me away from my pile of things,
so we can pick up yours, and go back to that place.
That place isn't my favorite, in fact it's the worst.
I can't speak, or sleep, or even eat.
I'm suffocating in this casket you keep me in,
while all my things grow mold and become so overwhelming.
So overwhelming, which means it's hard to face them.
And so my pile of things keeps growing,
and I keep helping you clean and organize-
in the hopes that you'll help me clean up just a little bit of my own.

Her skin glistened in the light,
and so they thought her beautiful.
But that same glistening blinded them,
they no longer guarded their hearts.
And that was when she struck,
leaving behind a trail of blood and tears.

I miss the laughter and even the sadness.
I miss when you’d sing on FaceTime off tune.
I miss falling asleep together, 700 miles away.
I miss our deeper talks- the ones that hurt.
I miss when you’d carry me in video games.
I miss the accidental drunk Snapchats.
I miss randomly getting sleepy calls at 3 am.
I miss when we were happy together,
but now we’re both depressed and apart.

I question every decision I make.
I regret every action I take.

Words are twisted,
screamed, and mutilated.
Fists are flying,
bloodied, and disastrous.
Children are listening,
watching, and learning.

I have to step away,
Why help your children's brains decay?
Why let them listen to your arguing?
Why let their personalities begin melting?

Why would you help them conform to society?
Why help strip away their confidence?
Why help them learn to follow in your putrid ways?

I can’t stop shaking.
Everything hurts- emotionally.
And I can’t stop shaking.
I want to scream,
Or hurt physically,
Or something to just externalize my pain.
But I can’t,
So I sit here and shake.

I am lost in an irate,
extensive sea.
yet I cannot swim.
I try to copy the motions of others,
but I do not have the technique.
I slowly begin to descend
into the raging water.

I cannot help but to question
why people
learn to swim
against a current
when they could
lean back and be free.

I am submerged
in an ocean
of my own making.

Everyday I do nothing,
but try to keep my mind
from the dreadful thoughts
that make my wrists ache
for a blade to slice them
into a ****** art piece.
Yet even though
the art is lovely, I hide it.
I let the world live
in blissful ignorance
not knowing, not suffering
the way no one knows I do.

The Earth was bright. As she spoke her eyes were vibrant,
And her words enthusiastic.
Her face was full of expression,
Her life was full of meaningless worries.

The moon shadowed the Earth. Her eyes became dark,
Her words became dull.
Her face is full of contempt,
Her life is full of complications.

The Earth is pitch black. Her eyes are closed,
Her words are silenced.
Her face is now full of amity,
Her life is now emptied of demur.

The Earth is slowly lighting up. Her eyes are opening,
Her words are whispers.
Her face is full of confusion,
Her life is full of memories.

The Earth is bright. Her eyes are opened,
Her words are proud.
Her face is full of comprehension,
Her life is full of contentment.

Talking?
You think that could help?
Talking about
the deep
grey bad things.
I tried.
It didn't work.
I still let
the blood
run down
my arms.

Your words
wreck,
destroy,
maim,
abuse,
wound,
and mortify me,
yet they are
the only
thing that
could possibly
save me.

Unconditional love can take hard work,
but don’t forget it can become a gain.
As you dodge each other's weak spots, you smirk.
Just remember a mean cheat can cause pain.
It becomes an agonizing workout,
that takes the most time out of your routine.
When you realize just how much time, you shout.
The load of severe time loss is obscene.
Try to escape, but you won’t get away.
You're trapped in a love that tears you apart.
Every marriage turns to a harmful play,
that waits until you're trapped to break your heart.
After escaping you will return soon,
you will be there dancing in the full moon.

I feel lost,
forgotten,
undiscovered,
disregarded,
neglected, and
past recollection.
I am stuck in
Painful Oblivion.

I open my eyes, where am I?
When did I get here?
The walls are high, there's no escaping.
No door or window, just simply sitting.
Is it possible to recover
From a disease that only I have the power to stop?
I cannot focus long enough to think, or feel around.
How do I get out?
I dropped myself here, and it’s on me to get out.
I need to sober up, and find a way to return to it.
I try, but I only scratch at the surface.
I cannot dig a hole to get out,
it will only bring be deeper.
What if I just gave up?

Cry.
Let the world know
that your in desolation.
Let them know
that they hurt you.
Let them know
how you really feel.

Scream.
Let the world know
that your done being walked over.
Let them know
you never wanted their opinion.
Let them know
you will NOT capitulate to them.

I hide, but you find me.
I escape but you capture me.
There is no love, only horror.
I found your notes,
on the gravestones of my family.
My mother, father and brother,
they are my town, my home.
You took them away, and tortured me.
I try to run, but you scratch and bite.
Pieces of my flesh gone, memories changed,
bones broken, and hope astray.
I hope you rot in this place…

You are a violent beast,
trapping me in this ugly cage.
You’re lethal, and delusional,
watching every step I take.
The trickle of blood,
falling down my neck.
The colors swirl together,
making an ugly black blank
of nothingness as I slip
from consciousness.
The pain leaves and
I waste away wistfully
into a blur of shadows.

Run, run, run, I cannot hide.
Pools of blood near my side.
Run, run, run, pools of blood.

You’re as frightening as a nightmare
pulled from the deepest thoughts
and fears inside me.
I now sleep endlessly,
as the memories
consume and
devour me.

I am slowly
dragging Myself
out of a treacherous
hole meant for those
who defy the truths
being inserted into
our menacing minds.

Sitting in a
deep
dark
hole
questioning
whether or not
its possible
to utterly love
again after
failing the
first time.

Why is it
when I
start talking
to you
I can't
be open
without you
becoming
angry
jealous
manipulative
impulsive
rude
scarring
hate­ful and
argumentative.
It hurts
because
I just
need someone
to talk to
every now
and then.
I need
to open
the bottle
that my
deepest
most painful
thoughts are
enclosed in.

Sometimes I don't know what to say
or even how to act correctly.
You suddenly distance yourself-
do I choose option a or b?

Option A-
You're just busy:
I give you your space.

Option B-
You're trying to throw us away:
I message and fight for us.

There's too much gray area.
There' too much ifs, ands, and buts.
I don't know what to do.
Someone please help me.

Is it possible
to have a day
or week
or month
or year
or decade
where nothing goes wrong
where nothing hurts
and where nothing scars?

What I put on my body is not up to you.
It’s not about you in the slightest.
So shut the **** up, and move on.
This is me. Whether you like it or not.
I’m not your little puppet.
My existence isn’t dedicated to you.
So *******.
I have my own struggles-
Stop making them about you.
They’re not.

A Shield.
That's what it is.
A secret invisible force
that lets me hide.
It helps mask the
pain and sorrow
and anger and
regret and remorse
woven into my soul
piece by piece.
It helps me face
my peers,
my parents,
my friends,
my goals,
my dreams,
myself.
And even I
cannot see past it.

I need
to lay
curled
around
each
other
during
every
hour of
the night.

I like girls and I like boys and inbetweens-
but boys are so much easier to date.
I know what to expect and what to do-
but girls and inbetweens scare me,
I get so nervous and make mistakes.
They’re the unknown.
But if I don’t know them as well as boys-
how can I possibly be worthy of “pansexual?”
Do I even deserve that title?
Im attracted to people,
not their gender or their appearance,
but I’m so scared of messing up.
I like girls.
I like boys.
I like those inbetween.
But how could they possibly like me?

Lovely colors
are dripping
from the
vivid black
canvas.

I am not your priority.
You do not make time for me.
And because of that,
I have to leave.
If you wanted me to stay,
You’d do something to keep me.
But you’re not-
I’m not your priority,
And so I’m done making you mine.

With anger there comes clarity.
Not during it, no.
After- when you can see past the hurt.
And you can see you’re not at fault
for the pain they intentionally cause.