By. Lauren

I never take the time to put my pen to paper.
It's always thumbs tapping in a rampage to type my feelings out.
My mind storming and swirling.
My lungs compressing.
All trying to keep me going.
To keep me alive.
But it's not working.
Has it ever been working?
My heart never wants to pump its next pint of blood.
My legs never want to take their next steps.
It's always a process I can not get to end.
Just I can't seem to make it work properly either.
So what's the point?
What's my purpose?

By. Lauren

Have you ever wanted to be someone you are not?
Breathe air from someone else's lungs.
Pump blood from someone else's heart.
Think in someone else's mind.
Fall in love from someone else's body.
Just be someone you are not.
Live someone else's life.
A whole different world waiting to be discovered.
Mistakes and all.
I just want to be someone else entirely.

By. Lauren

Drunk on the "innocence" of our youth.
Ready for another shot of liquor.
We down quicker and quicker.
It's always seemed to be this way.
Our pupils dilating larger and larger.
Not ready for the hangover.
Not ready for it all to be over.
Drinking makes the demons go away.
No more chatting in our minds.
Tonight we get to be normal teens.
Just drinking the "innocence" of our youth away.
Letting it glide down our throats
Quicker and quicker each time ready for the gulp.
The gulp that makes it all go away.

By. Lauren

I never wanted to be here.
Not here.
Not in this room.
Not anywhere.
I never wanted to be me.
Not in this body anyway.
I've always wanted to leave here.
Leave me.
Leave this body that has treated me so unfair.
I never have given any care.
Not to this body.
It doesn't care for me anyway.
I never wanted to slice it open.
See its blood.
I never wanted to see my blood.
I never wanted to see it drip.
Feel it drip.
Make it drip.
I've just never wanted to be alive.
Not here.
Not in this world.
Not where I have been treated so cruel.
I've never liked all the slurs.
The hurtful things they scream.
I don't want to hear them scream.
And I can't.
And I won't.
And I still stay.
Stay silent.
I just want to leave.
I've never wanted to be here.
Not here.
Not there.
Not with them.
Not in this body anyway.

By. Lauren

Looking at you I can't help but wonder if you've been crying all day.
Your eyes seem to want to fade.
Fade away.
Looking at you I can't help but want to pump the happy back through.
Back through your veins.
Looking at you makes me feel dead.
Your skin looks so grey.
Are you okay?
Looking at you I can't help but want to cry too.
Cry all day.
All because I looked at you.
Looked at you today.

By. Lauren

The smell of death has always been a 6th sense to me.
I do not know why but the second something I once held dear to my heart passes on I smell the smell.
A smell that's so nauseating I can hear it.
Hear its rumble.
Hear its beating on the no longer pumping heart.
Hear the smell.
The smell of rotting.
The smell that brings tears to my dull eyes.
The smell I've always seemed to recognize.
The smell of death.
The blunt reminder that they are gone.
Gone forever.
Gone like the smell.
The smell I feel trapped in.
The smell of death.
My 6th sense.