It's been a while, hasn't it?

I sometimes wonder
If you remember me at all,
Beneath your stressful days
And endless nights.

Do you remember me?

I have hidden here,
Waiting
Just for you.

Because I am you.

You are not the girl I used to know,
Not the one you used to be.
But that's okay,
I have changed too.

Have we both grown by leaps and bounds?

I wish you all the best,
But please
I beg of you.

Do not forsake me.

I loved you.
I really did.

I loved the way your smile
Would light up your eyes.

The way your jokes
Would always make me laugh.

I wanted to be yours,
And you, mine.

But eventually,
I moved on.

I kept telling myself
That it was a stupid, silly crush.

A summer of regrets,
Constantly relived memories.

Eventually,  I learned to be
The third wheel.

To be friendly when talked to,
Quiet and unnoticeable the rest of the time.

Soon, I will fade away entirely.
My mind is already halfway there.

I don't know why I felt anything for you,
Because I knew it couldn't work out from the start.

So, whoever that special someone is,
I hope she isn't as stupid as I am.

Explosive rage,
Uncontrollable anger.

Directed at you,
Or just myself?

I hate you,
Always putting me down.

I hate myself,
Constantly craving your approval.

Your love,
Which I seldom receive.

I hate the part of me
That begs for forgiveness,

The part of me
That will always just be human.

Nothing more,
Nothing more.

Tears run down my face.
I cry, hidden in my room.

Am I just being
Melodramatic?

You scream at me,
I am never good enough.

I already know.
Can't you see that?

The bitter moment of silence,
Long enough to last a lifetime.

For days, I refuse to speak.
Until I learn to love the human part of me.

Once again.

I feel I have lost my voice.

As much as I want to deny it,
That emptiness still remains,
Both heart and mind broken,

Into a million tiny pieces.

I've been empty for quite some time,
As if my lungs refuse to breathe,
And my voice refuses to speak.

Is this goodbye?

I've had my fill of heartache and loss,
Of broken dreams and lost souls,
And plenty of useless days.

I'm sorry, in advance.

I don't think I'll ever be able to say
What anyone wants to hear.
That I'll keep trying to live.

First, the tears.

They build up and up and up,
Never falling, not just yet.

You stop breathing.

You start gasping for air,
The poison in your lungs, your head,
Making your head spin in all directions.

And, if you try to stop,
You end up making it worse.

Calm down.
Breathe.

But in order to calm down you must write,
And to write you must calm down,
The entire paradox
Sending your head swirling.

Vision blurry,
You stop thinking clearly,
Less clear than before.

The world a huge kaleidoscope
Of sadness.

Every attempt to find what you lost
More desperate,
More unrealistic
Than the last.

Each rejection,
Each nonexistence
A greater blow
Than the last.

And suddenly,
You
Can't
Breathe
At All.

And you're crying yourself to sleep,
Trying to make up for what was lost,
To make amends.

But you know,
Deep down
You'll never be okay with it.

That loss defines you.

I want to sleep.

But I don't know if I remember how.

Have you ever noticed
The way that gentle touching
Of keys on a keyboard
Sound so much
Like the pitter-patter
Of rain,
And how
A single written word
Can have as many
Endless meanings
As there are
Drops of water
In the sea?

Those who seek love
Don't always find it.

The truth of life
Is a harsh reality to bear.

Those with the strongest emotions
Tend to keep them bottled in.

Those who want happiness
Are seldom able to find it.

That rare sleep in the dead of night
Only lasts for a short moment.

All the best things we have
Slip through our fingers like sand.

How do I know?
I have been there, so many times.

And those who need help the most
Are never able to find it.

Looking at my wounded heart,
Wondering why I played my part.

One for sorrow, Two for joy...

I fell in love with you,
Little did I know, you loved her too.

Three for a boy, Four for a girl...

Sweet moonlit walks, the long cold night.
I fell for you, in broad daylight.

Five for silver, Six for gold...

You went back to her, I know it to be true.
But maybe, just maybe, you miss me too.

Bound over a long distance,
The conversation dwindles down,
Until the idle chatter of the text
No longer makes much sense,
Neither one wanting to leave,
Neither saying goodbye.

Only, in this moment,
Could each person know the other,
Their deepest secrets and denied emotion.

Sometimes, I wonder,
Am I trapped inside my own head?

Refusing to believe the written on the page,
I just make up my own.

Is this what constitutes insanity?
Or is it my own lack of ability,

My refusal to see the light,
Even in the brightest of days?

My own thoughts like flies,
Drawn to the stench of my rotting mind?

Is this my own choice, my own fate?
Because it sure as hell doesn't feel like it.

The truth is,
I regret every decision I make.

I worry over nothing
And everything.

My mind is overflowing
Constant fear and paranoia

I want to be included,
But I don't want

I don't want.

I don't


I don't want to be a burden.
I don't want to be annoying.

I don't want to be weird,
Or cringy
Or awkward.

I don't want to be alone.

I don't want to die.

The stark contrast
Of black and blue.

Constantly waiting for the chorus,
The encore, the silence.

Words mix together;
I cannot see.

Madness encircling me,
I am left blind as the tempo builds up.

Noises form a symphony,
A bitter cacophony of pain.

Where there is silence,
There is noise.

Shattering me to my core,
Rattling in my bones.

Until, once again,
I become silent.

I can't even tell if I'm human anymore.

A loss,
We knew
For a long time.

Two cynics,
Sitting at the table.
And another, religious.

A long time coming,
We knew,
Yet the other prays to god.

She cries at her loss,
Refusing to believe it.
All her hope, abandoned.

The other two sit at the table,
Laughing while everything
Is taken away.

The woman's demons overpower her,
And her god is no longer here to help.
She is swallowed by darkness.

The demons return to the table,
Wipe off the blood,
And resume their manic laughter.

I want my words to linger on,
At least for a little while longer.

I want some past reflection of myself
When no one can hear these silent screams.

I have evolved, yes,
But perhaps not in a good way.

So when I am gone, I ask you,
What will you think of me?

Will I become a ghost,
Lost forever in your memories?

Or will you still call me a coward,
To bring the end upon myself?

But the only thing I can do now
Is think of what I have to say.

To choose what to leave behind,
As I eventually fade from sight.

My fate is already decided,
But I have one choice left;

To either become the monster
Or the coward...

For once, I am silent.
I have lost the words
To describe how I feel.

Maybe that's because
Once, just once,
I feel something other than pain.

With you by my side,
Listening to my lies,
I begin to think...

Maybe I could tell you the truth,
To see how you'd feel
About the perfect girl who's no longer perfect.

I want to cry in your arms,
To hear you say
"It's going to be okay."

That I'll get over
The endless cycle.
Constant death, never-ending.

Until I remembered,
I had lost you, too.
You weren't mine.

I tried to reach out
To touch you.
See you one last time.

But you just faded away, like a memory in a photograph.

Simple words,
Simple pictures,

To show how simple our minds can be.

Dying books,
Dying children,

Show how our society is already dead.

A fear of others,
A fear of the unknown,

Innocent people fearing for their lives.

Pride month,
A proud declaration of love,

Are they still proud when they could be killed at any time?

Working for a degree,
Working for equality,

Men don't have to work as much as a woman does.

I'm tired, I really am.
I'm sick of hate and ignorance.

And is this what we've become?

I ask, May I Come In?

You reply, Who's There?

It's just me,
And my pessimistic thoughts.

I know you might not want me here.

In fact, I don't want me.

But your voice is of someone I can trust,
And right now, I need to feel loved.

"Are The Voices In Your Head Acting Up Again?"

A simple question, easy enough.
But I do not want to answer.

Eventually, I say "Yeah",
And I can already see you cry.

And for some reason, so do I.

Why does it always have to be my fault?

Time to put away that darkness,
Pretend to be happy.
Only if for one day.

This pain will bloom like a rose.
But that doesn't matter,
Just keep watering it with your silent tears.

Cut yourself up,
If you wish.
Just don't let them see your blood.

You only have to be happy,
Just this once.
Don't ruin this sacred day.

Put your violent past
Behind you.
Ignore your growing fear.

Your instincts were right.
But you're gonna die anyways,
So what does it matter?

And when those judging eyes
Finally leave,
You can end it once and for all.

Don't worry about
Me committing suicide;
I won't follow through.

Shivering in the cold,
Rocking back and forth.
Knowing you won't come.

I've gotten used to this;
The darkness in my vision,
The sounds in my head.

The sleepless nights
And existential crises
Are now my friends.

This manic destruction
Is the only comfort
I could ever have.

Really, I get it.
Nobody wants to be here,
Not even you.

And that's okay.
I'll always have myself.

I don't exist.

I shouldn't have done that.

Things didn't go to plan.

And I keep thinking of you.

Peace can be found in anger,
But only for a fleeting moment,
Before it is consumed by guilt.

We then become dependent on it,
The pain we feel,
Regardless of whether it was deserved.

The human moral compass,
Always such a hypocrite,
Twisting the mind so it always blames itself.

The burning of possessions,
Old and cherished,
Only reinforces the fact that we are alone.

But should we be forced to suffer
At the hands of the ignorant,
The jealous, the thieves?

But I still share the blame.
Not because of my actions,
But lack thereof.

Should I still be condemmed
For my refusal to act
Against everything that tears my life apart?

Regardless,
I still have these bruises,
And they were caused by you.

My fingertips ready to type,
Electricity coursing through them.
Yet the words still don't come.

The end is a beginning,
I suppose. But this time,
It's the other way 'round.

If I were asked,
My medium of choice
Would be language.

So unclear,
Yet so certain,
They fail me now.

I see such beauty I cannot describe,
Such chaos I cannot portray,
Such anger I cannot express.

But my fingers remain poised,
Waiting for that moment...

When they are able to type.

I'm so tired of it all.

Of having to do the same thing,
Day in, day out,
No change whatsoever.

It feels as if
Every month
Keeps getting longer and longer,
Never bothering to end.

"Time is the enemy of us all", they say,
And it couldn't hold more true
Than this moment right now.

Every second lasts a decade,
And every moment, an eternity.

I want my life to change,
So maybe I'll just end it.

Nothing can satisfy my hunger
For human suffering;
Not even me.

So once again,
I break myself down,
Hoping to feel

Something,
Anything,
To remind me of my humanity.

Or lack thereof.

My life closed shut,
Never to be open again.

I faded away,
Grateful.

That I had chosen clarity of mind
Over clarity of vision.

Even if they both intertwine.

I freed myself,
And can soar high above.

And far away.

Once again going under,
Visiting that cold, dark palace
Where dreams seemingly come true.

Each time I visit
I become weaker,
But am still unable to leave.

That is, until
I cannot handle the pain
And my body fights it.

A continuous struggle,
A never-ending cycle.

Even so, this is far better
Than what awaits me
On the other side.

Because there is commotion,
And pain, and sharp clarity.

And I do not want to bring
This awful life
Into any deeper focus.

Did I do something wrong,
Other than being born?
Why isn't anyone here to celebrate?

Another birthday.
Another time where
I blow out the sad little candles.

No cake,
No presents,
No people.

I'm just left alone, sitting in the dark.

12 years,
13, 14, 15, 16,
All the way until 21.

I've come to expect very little from people.

I'm left waiting,
Sitting alone in the dark.
Craving the smallest human interaction.

Happy Birthday to me, indeed.

Little Girl
Staring in the mirror,
Brushing her hair.

Little Girl
Hiding her secrets,
Living in fear.

Little Girl
Bringing ruin to her life,
Addicted to that sadness.

Little Girl.
You've ****** up again.

Little Girl
Hiding those tears,
Pretending everything's okay.

Pretending you're okay.

But you're not.

You still slice those wrists,
You still refuse to eat.

Because we both know
There's no point in living
If that life is already broken.

She dances to the torment
Of her soul;
Writhing. Screaming.

Tearing out her hair,
Spinning in manic circles.
Bending her body in innumerable ways.

She's dying, slowly but surely.
She knows it. But she can't defeat
That ghastly song in her mind.

In the grand scheme of things,
It doesn't really matter.

Whether I get into college,
Or get a job,
Or become really rich.

Even if I am poor,
And a failure,
And end up homeless.

It's all the same.

Either way, I will be a speck,
A little piece
In an ever-changing universe.

Whatever I do,
It won't matter.
I will still die.

But all we seem to do
Is **** ourselves.

We work our lives away,
Just to gain
That one momentary pleasure.

So yeah, I don't want to work for a living.
Or get married,
Or have kids.

It doesn't matter, after all.

Of course, I might care,
At least for a little bit,
If I could live.

To choose a path
Whose reward
Is a longer life.

But only for a little.
Because it must be hell
To live forever.

To constantly watch everyone else die,
Or live forever with everyone you hate.
Take your pick, it's all the same.

Life itself is hell,
Death is hell,
And anything in between is meaningless.

It truly is.

What I'm trying to say, is...
We all want to die,
But we all want to live.

Don't say you love me,
I could never forgive you if you did.

You deserve a better life
Than the one I could give you.

I'm not someone you want to love,
Because I am SO far from perfect.

And you are.

So don't love me.
Don't even try.

I could never forgive myself
If I ruined you, too.

I am terrified of living.
I don't want to be hurt
Or scarred.

I don't want to die,
Don't want to end
Without my own purpose.

I want to have my own voice,
So nobody can speak for me,
Manipulate me however they choose.

I simply wish to be human,
To love,
And be loved.

I am not
A happy person,
Not even close.

Seems to be a fitting name.

You only saw
The surface.

Where "darkness"
Was fun.

But you didn't see the real depths of my soul.

Would
It
Scare
You?

The things I see,
The visions at night
Are all too real to me.

The slashes on my arms,
The blood on my skin,
They are there too.

And even now, it still hurts.

Because I am still
"That goth kid",
Only much older.

If there is one thing I can say,
It's that, over the years, I have learned.

Mainly, I know
That what I think

And what I write
Aren't always the same.

My hands have a mind of their own,
My fingertips play with the keys.

So many keys,
Which have so many letters on them.

My mind screams for happiness,
A lie I have always told,

Jumbling in a huge mess,
While my hands play on.

Maybe I have a plan,
But it doesn't seem it to me.

While my mind begs for happiness,
My hands record my darkness.

She was glass,
And he was stone.

He destroyed her with a touch.

Shattered into
A million pieces,

Like the stars seen in the sky.

He tried to put her
Back together,

But he made the damage worse.

Now he's left
Wondering why

He's the one left with the scars.

My mind,
Filled with dark thoughts,
The cynical ideas never ending.

Dressed in black, to match my soul.

But my skin,
So pale and tender,
So innocent and young.

Too young to die, too weak to ****.

So I meet in the middle,
Where dark and light collide into grey,
Only that grey is now red.

And the collision is leaving me with scars.

Look at you.
So cynical;
Depressed.

What has made you this way?

You were once
Such a happy
Child.

When did things go wrong?

Maybe when
You finally
Gave up.

Dreams are for stupid children.

I can't write,
Not at all.
All I can do is read.

But isn't that what we all do?

We don't write stories,
But instead
Read the words,

In the form of our people.

That mad feeling,
Writing all that we read,
For fear of being the only ones who see.

To see if others know what we see.

But the question is,
Do you see this?
What I see, what I read?

Or am I just going crazy...?

Being the only one
Who is trapped
In this mind full of storms.

I painted a canvas,
In words, dark and grey.

Overlapping, in many shades,
They covered the whole thing.

I never once thought that the painting
Was dark and dreary, like all others.

For the words were great,
Beautifully written.

So happy in their meaning,
Even though the execution was bad.

Over time,
The words grew.

I watered them with my tears,
And fed them my smiles.

And when I looked,
I saw...

The painting was my portrait,
Down into the depths of my mind.

I see a girl,
Fragile and scared.

She wears long sleeves
To cover up her long history
Of scars.

She already seems broken,
Irreparable.

She want to hide it.
To show she's strong,
Even when she isn't.

She puts on makeup,
Must have cost a fortune.

She likes it.
She "doesn't care" when
She wears all black.

And no-one comes near enough
To see the cracks along her face.

A blank slate,
A fresh start.
Full of potential.

Once upon a time,
I had hope.
I thought things could change.

What does it matter now, though?
You don't care.
And, quite frankly, neither do I.

For you see, potential is one thing.
But the outcome tends to be
Completely different.

Sure, I could change,
But so could you.
Live a life full of lies.

Instead, we starve ourselves,
Constantly craving a glimmer,
A slight hint of affection.

You and I,
We could change.
But why don't we?

We were both there,
Bathing in the sunlight
While the water flowed.

He had such golden hair,
Made brighter
By the shining of the sun.

He had known he'd die,
I knew.
I could tell in his eyes.

He took of his mask,
His final act of defiance.
I wept as he faded away.

Finally, I left.
Unwilling to die beside him,
Even if I had to keep this mask.

At least he had died as himself,
As I had stumbled along in the dark,
A complete stranger to myself.

And before she knew it,
Her family was broken.

Her father, tired from working,
Dark shadows draining his face.

Sticking with her mother,
Only because he loved her.

Although the girl was beginning to doubt
That what they called love wasn't love at all,

But a means to an end,
A way to maintain a broken family.

The mother, always weary,
Desperately clinging to hope.

The hope that, for long enough,
She has known to be false.

They both at their daughter,
The old scars still there.

They realize their dreams through her,
Seeing a broken illusion of success.

They stare at her with those pleading eyes,
Refusing to see that she is beginning to crack.

The longer I am in silence,
The less it is quiet.

An imaginary tune,
Soft sounds of my breathing,

There is no such thing as silence.
Except in my mind,

Where I cannot think
Except to feel this stinging pain.

The leftovers of addiction,
The beginning of an end.

Even the sound of my loved ones,
If they even exist...

Even their crying voices
Cannot reach me here.

Someone once asked me
If I was afraid of the dark.
No, I replied.

The dark is not my enemy.
She is my friend,
And has always been there.

The light is fleeting,
Leaving one blinded
In its wake.

But the dark remains,
Slowly creeping,
Embracing the mind.

Regardless of past.
Of horrible thoughts,
And heavy emotions.

She comforts me
In solitude,
And has never left me since.

With hands as cold as ice,
She drifts in and out
From the shadows of existence.

Her life created
By another's misery,
She already seems dead.

Turned to dust,
She is but a hollow shell,
Alone and scared.

And every day,
You try to fix her,
To put the pieces back together.

But she just gets worse,
Until all you can do
Is watch her fall apart.