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Quentin House Feb 2015
Every human walks around with a certain kind of sadness.
They may not wear it on their sleeves.
But it's there if you look **deep.
Quentin House Feb 2015
Advice is easy to give, but it can be wrong or harmful. You are the expert on you. The best thing someone can do is help you figure out the path that makes the most sense to you.
Quentin House Jan 2015
That is what I am, or so I think.
I love boys, they make me feel weird.
I get skittish near a boy who says anything nice about me.
I giggle like a school girl, I blush and I get goofy.
I am hidden; From the world outside my shell.
A egg who is yet to hatch.
A refugee, hidden from those who are there to
I scream and kick and snarl at those who
call me *******, Queer, or ****.
They think they are smarter than I.
Smart enough to use a word that means
And laugh at me, laugh in my face.
So I cut, and lace away at my flesh.
Totally brainwashed by the idea that I am not perfect to these standards of living today, that I am abnormal, some call it. Different, or a monster to society. But I keep going, scars on my arm show me I can beat them.
I didn't choose to be gay.
But I sure as hell Love it.
My view on those who hate upon my fabulous that flows through my veins.
Quentin House Feb 2015
Attention, this is not a poem, but a helpful guide for those who cut.
I am not going to tell you how 'bad' you are. Or why cutting is wrong.
I cut, I understand, I bleed, I hurt, I feel.
But; take a pen, or sharpie, anything that won't hurt to use, and just doodle, or write, or sketch, on your arm, where you wanna cut, it helps so much.

( Hope this helps, it's my arm.)
Stay strong ♥
Quentin House Jan 2015
No one can understand, not even the people that say they do, I try and try and try to be perfect, I try my hardest if you will to fit in, but I can't.
I try to be popular, but it doesn't work that way.
All because I am Me..
Because I'm Bisexual, because I am short, because I have acne, because of how I dress, my shoes, my lifestyle, my choices, my thoughts.

Even my Scars
Who knew so much could define someone who is so little to this world.
I sure didn't.
A very serious rant on what I see as life, and why I am why I am.
Quentin House Jan 2015
What am I to you? Am I some pawn, some marionette that you can bend and twist and break at your own command, am I some old shirt with a hole that keeps getting bigger."Oh I can fix that." Your mother proclaims but you shake your head and toss it into the trash bin without even wanting to fix it.
Tell me what am I. You use me, toy with me, break, bend, hurt, stomp on, spit at. I'm I some toy, aren't I? Left in the back yard years ago, aging, drying out,  and melting away at the heat and seasons that go by.
And all because.
I fell for **You..
Quentin House Feb 2015
I lay in bed, and suddenly, a pain, from my toes to my head.
It shoots through my body, jolting me and making me feel weird, thoughts run through my head as I search. Only to find an arrow in my knee. Cupid, **** you, you little flying heathen. You got me, but I don't wanna celebrate, who do I love? No one in this world can love a person like me, no one loves scars, cupid.
Leave me alone, and tell me when Valentines day passes.
A little poem-thing about Valentines, a lot of us dread it because we don't have what that day celebrates. Love.
Quentin House Mar 2015
Is suicide an answer?
Is escaping the right thing to do?
Is answering life with suicide the right answer?
Quentin House Mar 2015
No I don't have this backwards.
We ALL are sheep in wolfs clothing.
Trotting along, willful and power filled.
We hide in a costume.
To contain our true self.
We are scared of reality.
We are scared as judgement.
But You play along.
After many years of hiding.
I SHOW myself.
The wolf-skin thrown to the side.
A bold feeling building in my chest.
I am proud of myself.
You come along.
And slam me down, destroy me.
**** me....
Only because.
I acted by who I am.
And you act like the wolf you *dream to be...
Quentin House Mar 2015
As a young Lad I saw more **** than the average drug dealer. Never in my life did I do any. But to see my mom without needle holes in her arm was like a gift from the God I yet to believe in.
At the age of 16 I would think back in the day I had it good. I was a free spirit. Firefly catcher, wasn't afraid of strangers, ran the streets with my mates at night. Street lights were my time to be back home, supper is waiting.

But then I remembered. Back in the day; **** was my moms supper, **** was my moms best friend.
To see a needle every day was as normal as the yellow school bus that would take my friends and I to school.
A trap house was mothers EVERY house.
She told me she wasn't doing anything, she didn't hide it anymore. My mom going to prison wasn't even a wake up call for me, my mom losing custody of my sister wasn't my wake up call.
I didn't realize **** wasn't something everyone did.
Back in the day....
I thought it was normal...
As normal as my life Was....
Quentin House Jan 2015
A smile so warm.
But a heart so very
Quentin House Mar 2015
From age one to ten.
You thrived in my life.
Then you moved out of town.
Cut away from me, with a knife.
To Oklahoma, then down South.
14 years of age. I don't mutter your name.
From my mouth.
We rarely speak.
But you tie yourself with my troubles.
Deal with your own life.
Deal with your wife, your 'double.'
I love you, I do.
You say the same, but is it true?
You don't even say MY name.
But when I forget yours.
I am the one to blame.
A few years ahead.
Now 16.
A lot going through my mind.
Then you call me, with your drama.
And your *******.
Wasting MY time?
I didn't know.
You even realized I was alive.
You say you still love me.
But that's just a white lie.
Quentin House Oct 2015
We're all different, in every way, not even twins
Quentin House Jan 2015
You are not the same as you once were.
You're crude, like black Licorice.
You're dark, like the shadow that haunts us in the day.
And that consumes us at night.
You're a monster now..
But don't worry.
**So am I..
Quentin House Feb 2015
So now I cut these
loveless wrists,
My head sure
hurts today.
I'll take another
twenty pills and
it'll All
Quentin House Mar 2015
Baby you're sweet.
I crave you every night and day.
I lust for your love, I lust for your lips Pressed against mine.
I lust for your heart, to desire me as much as I desire you.
Baby you're sugar.
I shake when I am not with you.
I'm addicted to your love, I am addicted to your lips.
I CRAVE for your heart.
Baby you're a drug.
I can't control my feelings.
I cry, shake. Die without you.
I relapse for you.
You're like a Needle Rushing through my arm.
I press the plunger when I don't feel good.
And like the river your drug rushes to my veins.
Filling my body before I am numb.
Numb to your *
This is one of the most 'everywhere' rants I could think of.
It doesn't make sense.
Unless you've been addicted too.
Quentin House Jan 2015
I'm a little dysfunctional.
Don't ya know?
If ya push me it might be bad.
Get a little emotional.
Don't ya know?
Fool around and make me **Mad.
Lyrics. That are so true to me.
Quentin House Mar 2015
With every fiber of my being I crave you.
I crave your love.
You can't tell.
But I am dying.
Your past doesn't affect me.
But how you see yourself does.
I love you for who you are.
And as you fall.
I will too.
So will my pulse.
And my soul.
And my smile.
And then.
I'm **Gone.
Quentin House May 2015
On the ledge.
Millions of feet below.
the soft looking pavement.
For my blood to surely flow.
I step off the ledge.
And fall really fast.
I recap my life.
Recap my past.
I hold my breath.
as if I am about to dive.
But really any sane person knows
You don't survive a fall this High.
As I keep falling.
I began to tear.
Thinking about my family.
My mother...
Oh Dear...
I wish there was another way.
But i'm falling to fast.
So I continue to hold my air.
And remember my past.
Nearing the ground.
A smile; formed on my face.
"Soon..." I say to myself.
I won't be in this place.
Inches away.
Time running slow.
The ground looks.
To release my soul.
Impact is quick.
Painless at that.
I gasp and bolt from my bed.
A pain in my back.
It was a dream.
Why won't you
Look at that.
I dreamed about Death.
About sweet release.
And my brain toyed with me.
Gave me a tease.
Glad I suppose.
That I didn't die.
From that big ole fall.
From that *******
This is my second version, edited, fixed spelling, added one thing, made it better.
Quentin House Sep 2015
Harm is something we cause on a daily basis.
We all are aware. But no one is aware of the pain that follows.
something random.
Quentin House Jan 2015
I'd give you my Heart.
And let you just hold it.
I'd give you my Soul.
But I already **Sold it.
Can you?
Quentin House Mar 2015
On the ledge.
Millions of feet below.
the soft looking pavement.
For my blood to surely flow.
I step of the ledge.
And fall really fast.
I recap my life.
Recap my past.
I hold my breath.
as if I am about to dive.
But really any sane person knows
You don't survive a fall this High.
As I keep falling.
I began to tear.
Thinking about my family.
My mother...
Oh Dear...
I wish there was another way.
But i'm falling to fast.
So I continue to hold my air.
And remember my past.
Nearing the ground.
A smile; formed on my face.
"Soon..." I say to myself.
I won't be in this place.
Inches away.
Time running slow.
The ground looks.
To release my soul.
Impact is quick.
Painless at that.
I gasp and bolt from my bed.
A pain in my back.
It was a dream.
Why won't you
Look at that.
I dreamed about Death.
About sweet release.
And my brain toyed with me.
Gave me a tease.
Glad I suppose.
That I didn't die.
From that big ole fall.
From that ****
Quentin House Feb 2015
I state myself as gay, to find love of the same type.
But one girl destroyed me, equipped me with the knife.
She said she loved me, I held her dear.
She cheated on me one summer, the end was obviously near.
I would forgive her, five times more.
Friends of mine telling me."Dude, don't deal with that *****!"
Did I listen? No. My heart would weep and I would cry.
I kept going back to her, so? I had to give it One. More. Try.
Until one day."I found someone new." My wrist began to bleed."I'm so done with you."
Her parents didn't like me.
I was a lost cause.
At the time, I didn't have a god.
I'm still lost, I love her I do.
I can't have, she doesn't want me, I am still so blue.
So I say.....
**I'm lost without her, a mouth without wings.
Quentin House Jan 2015
I'm sorry I am short.
I'm sorry I'm not tall.
I'm sorry for every imperfection, every flaw.
I'm sorry I wear glasses.
Forgive me for not wearing fancy clothes.
Money doesn't flow in my home.
I'm sorry I am broke.
Quentin House Mar 2015
I confess myself.
Give my heart.
And you reply.
Everyone has gone through this, and it *****.
Quentin House Feb 2015
"NOW this is the law of the jungle, as old and as true as the sky,
And the wolf that shall keep it may prosper, but the wolf that shall break it must die.

As the creeper that girdles the tree trunk, the law runneth forward and back;
For the strength of the pack is the wolf, and the strength of the wolf is the pack.

Wash daily from nose tip to tail tip; drink deeply, but never too deep;
And remember the night is for hunting and forget not the day is for sleep.

The jackal may follow the tiger, but, cub, when thy whiskers are grown,
Remember the wolf is a hunter—go forth and get food of thy own.

Keep peace with the lords of the jungle, the tiger, the panther, the bear;
And trouble not Hathi the Silent, and mock not the boar in his lair.

When pack meets with pack in the jungle, and neither will go from the trail,
Lie down till the leaders have spoken; it may be fair words shall prevail.

When ye fight with a wolf of the pack ye must fight him alone and afar,
Lest others take part in the quarrel and the pack is diminished by war.
Quentin House Jan 2015
Oh life, how you daze me.
Taking sharp turns, when I'm not buckled.
Accelerating as soon as I felt comfortable.
Giving me a bad hand, in the time of need.
Where are you taking me now?
Of course you don't tell. So I only wait, holding my breath as we begin onto our adventure.
please be gentle.
A story of what I see life to be. And what it's done to me
Quentin House Jan 2015
Every day, my demons let me know I am still alive.
Not to motivate, but to taunt; snickering as I walk by the bathroom, I get so frustrated I scream and call for family. I am always told. "Don't make me get my *** up to see a empty room!."
Does she not understand, the demon, red as can be are standing right there.

I continue my day, get home from school, the demons decide to not follow me until I realize they were waiting. Bursting into my room they throw me on the bed, and hand me a razor, and make me go at it, I can't stop them, they make me smoke, I can't stop them.
But... I don't know if I want too, it gets to the point where it feels natural, all the pain I feel, makes me feel good.
I get so close to slipping, but then something only the insane would believe.
I am saved, by an angel of light, she herself; hurts on the inside, but she shows me the true light of life with a smile.
And I can't thank her enough.
Because the light feels.
This is a poem for my best friend, almost a sister to me.
She is a lovely girl, and a awesome friend, thank you Selena.
Quentin House Feb 2015
Valentines day, once every year, where love is RUBBED in my face, smiles on theirs, ear to ear.
I don't really care, what you got your 'Bae.' Leave me alone.
This is not my day.
I only need chocolate, a movie or two. It'll just be me.
I don't need you.
I don't need love. A stupid word that is.
Please stop talking about how you're his..
Leave me alone.
My heart hurts worst than yours ever did.
You were never 'depressed' Never alone.
You have a **** Ton of friends.
That welcome you in their home.
I have myself, including 'I'
Days like this make me want to curl up.
Quentin House Jan 2015
Sometimes, as I lay, a metal blade confined in my hand.
Covering the piece of steel is the tears of my body.
The crimson flow like a river high in a mountain.
Current so smooth even the lightest of touches can ruin the flow.
It hurts, but that hurt feels good.
As I engrave, sometimes I write a name or a face.
To remember what I once had.
And sometimes I cry;
**Faster than the river flows.
A very bland poem about my struggle
Quentin House Jan 2015
I sit, stay still, and let you yell at me.
But it needs to stop, not later. Now.
Because of you I am changing
Not for the better.
I'm becoming something rather than myself.
I'm becoming what you are causing.
I'm becoming You
A **Monster...
I'm turning into my worst nightmare, and you ain't helping one bit baby.
Quentin House Feb 2015
I am a male, a 16 year old male.
Who(LIKE others.) has a period. No I don't shoot blood from my body.
But I get pissy, I get angry, I get hungry, I get sad, and I get lonely.
The only thing I need is for those who won't help and tease me.
To ***** off.
And let me be myself.
All men have a period, some call it Meriod.
But don't use it lightly. We get ****** too.
Quentin House Jul 2015
Waiting for a train to go
or a bus to come, or a plane to go
or the mail to come, or the rain to go
or the phone to ring, or the snow to snow
or the waiting around for a Yes or No
or waiting for their hair to grow.
Everyone is just waiting.

Waiting for the fish to bite
or waiting for the wind to fly a kite
or waiting around for Friday night
or waiting, perhaps, for their Uncle Jake
or a *** to boil, or a Better Break
or a string of pearls, or a pair of pants
or a wig with curls, or Another Chance.
Everyone is just waiting.
Dr. Suess. A true artist of words.
Quentin House Mar 2015
Warm, cold, rain, sleet, hail, snow. Fire.
No matter the condition I would always see you.
No matter the weather, no matter the storm.
You can't stop my love.
Don't even try.
A pointless effort.
But you can slow it down.
My heart is yours, as yours is mine.
But sometimes I think.
Back in time.
To the time with Kody.
I warned you, I did.
"He's a good guy.. Just misunderstood."
"Oh people make rumors about him."
If it's true then it's not a rumor.
At the time I longed for your love.
You had another. I didn't bother with it.
Just let my mind race on, my heart beat on.
Then one day. A 'Bing' from my phone.
"*** Quentin, what do I do?"
I didn't reply. Not for days.
I knew what you did, at the time.
I could care less, I didn't pity you.
You didn't believe me, so I saved my breath.
You almost went all the way.
I was shocked, broken.
Even if I didn't Show it.
Four years ago.
You made a promise.
Forever and always.
Well that always didn't happen.
To get on the right path.
You kissed another guy, then another.
I couldn't get mad. We were not dating.
But you've changed, I can see it.
I don't understand why people don't believe me.
**** your flaws.
**** your past.
**** the negative feelings.
**** anything to put you down.
This is not My love story.
But Ours
And it's gonna be great.
I'll pave the road.
Make it the smoothest ride.
This is not a slam poem in the slightest.
The girl I talk about in this is Emalie and as of typing this we are still together, and things cannot get bad.
Quentin House Apr 2015
As the dusk of the night fades and splits at the light of dawn, the ferry crept away before it was sought upon by those who don't have passage. By those who aren't merely ready for this type of adventure, only you and I my friend, so I hope you did pack your things, and I hope you don't plan on turning back anytime soon.
For this journey will last a life time. And we haven't a second to waste on the first part of this treacherous journey. I hope you packed your courage with you as well.
Quentin House Jan 2015
How can someone so Perfect.
Feel so Insecure.
With scars on her skin; cuts and burns.
Yet still wants to hurt.
Quentin House Mar 2015
With a girl in my grasp, her heart entitled to me.
Her face shines with beauty, her soul hurt but pure.
Her love swapped with mine.She trust me, as do I.
But I asked her.
For a Picture.
She implied she didn't care.
She said she loves me, made me feel Alive.
But truthfully I was dead inside.
This girl, I love with all my heart.
Sent me a Picture.
Because I asked.
She says it's fine, she says she trust me.
Which is good.
But I wanted to be different.
I wanted her for her. Not for her body.
I feel almost dead now.
I feel pathetic for drooping that low.
I wanted to help her.
I didn't want the Picture
But I asked for it anyways.
Quentin House Feb 2015
My eyes are red as I cry.
My face is red, you hit me but you love me.
My nose, it pours Red
It turns my gray shirt into a Red mess.
My wrist, it's red...
My cuts.
Are red, my blood is red.
I bleed for you.
I bleed.
A very different post... Pretty stupid and doesn't make sense.
Quentin House Mar 2015
It rushes over like a lively river.
Flowing and crashing violently.
Destroying anything it wants.
Taking anything it desires.
Clearing a path.
Sadness rushes like the river.
Destroys you.
Sweeps you away instantly.
It numbs your body.
The cold water of sadness takes you away.
And replaces you.
With a dull, blank mold of yourself.
Quentin House Jan 2015
School, a prison of useless knowledge and useless people who
Uselessly torment others, including me.
Vibrant colors fill the halls but to me it all seems gray.
My day is long, as my face. I sit to wonder.
"What is of this place?"
It's like a maze, but of the mind. Wandering aimlessly in hopes to find the exit, but even when I escape.
**I come back the next day
On a more personal note I do know School is not useless and because of school we have all that we do today from the brilliant men and women who work to advance our future. But this is just a 'vision' if you will of what I see every day in my high-school routine, and what I experience.
Quentin House Jan 2015
You degrade me, push me down, and hurt me.
But yet I would take on a army for you.

You make me cry, you make my soul sting, my heart clench up.
But yet I would take a bullet for you.

You notice my scars, then tell me to smile. But all you do, it's impossible for me to smile.
I etch some more into my arm, afraid of disappointing you, the one who caused these wounds.

"Don't yell." I proclaim. I may not be able to smile. But my flesh can.
This is a story about how I had the smile cut on the top of my hand.
Quentin House Jan 2015
See what I do?
I push through.
And I **Smile.
Smile through all the challenges put upon you.
Quentin House Jan 2015
As I lace at my skin, delicate and soft.
It spreads with ease, making me clench my teeth.
As the crimson flows away
Just like my life, both released with a knife.
Now I lay; waiting for my judgement day.
This is a poem, that came unto me during my times of major depression, and when poetry seemed like the only thing to save me.
Quentin House Apr 2015
Dear reader, if you or someone you know is in a troublesome spot. Pass this along. For it is sure to be a helpful read.
You there! Yes you. I know not but your face, nor your story. But I know you feel less than yourself. And that's not ok. Some its just the blues. Down in the dumps.
But someone else could be seconds away from leaving this earth. And not coming back. I don't want that. I don't know who you are, but I would sure love too. I would love to know everything about you. Anyone would. And I know I am one person. But one conversation could help, it could keep you occupied. You could drop the pills, the gun, untie the rope. Step away from the edge, Take the bag off your head. Drop the blade. It could save you, I could help, Anyone could. We are all here for a purpose. Though I can't tell you how to fix what is wrong. I can give you the spark you need, the spark to re-light the flame that is dying inside you. And out burst a giant, beautiful soul full of joy and passion, ready to fight the sadness head on, ready to kick its **** and let happiness reign over you.
I understand the sadness. I'm sad, I always am. But knowing I helped someone feel better. is the best thing ever. It's the best drug you'll ever try. The euphoria you get from helping someone. It's an amazing thing. I love every person on this earth from the bottom of my heart. I love you all, whether you do something bad or you're a nobody. You all are my friends. And I am not leaving. So get used to my constant smile.
This jots around so much. But I hope the random happiness helps someone.
Quentin House Mar 2015
As I cut these forsaken wrist.
The blood pours without a sigh.
I close my eyes one final time.
And utter a sweet **"Goodbye."
Quentin House Mar 2015
I cry in your name.
I fight the emotional pain.
I sit; day after day.
"What is of this place!?"
A daze.
Trapped in it.
Crying all night.
I'm losing this fight.
The blade scratched my arm.
The feeling of my blood.
Flowing like a flood.
It's **warm.
Quentin House Feb 2015
We feel a little pity, but don't empathize.
Hollywood Undead.
Quentin House Jan 2015
I think we are going good, hugging for minutes on end, loving one another.
And then I am the reason for everything bad.
I am the reason you cut, I am not allowed to make you smile, I am not allowed to do anything to bring your mood up.
Because *it's all my fault. It always is.
Quentin House Jan 2015
I lay; motionless and sad in my bed.
A giant wave of dreams and thoughts and ideas and plots wash over. Hell.
I'm thinking of every possible thing I could.
But as I push closer. And closer. And closer, on the edge of sleep. I think of you.
The memories I had.
The feelings I still have.
And how you said I was the worst of the worst.
And you didn't even realize your words hurt.
until my scars began to show. And now you're afraid of me.
Good; fear what you don't understand....
Quentin House Nov 2015
It's a long way home
At the end of the road
I'll be pavin' my own way
To the top I'll be here to stay
So take my name
Remember this face
Keep the change and have a nice day
And live for the moment not by the past
Homie live each day like it's your last

— The End —