I wish I could say What you mean to me But then It is in school And then you won't realise That our jokes That confuse others Make me jump Inside Crying with laughter And wishing You'd just reach out And hold my hand
We're just kids battling depression We're just children battling anxiety We're just teens battling stress We're just not quite adults battling fear We're just at that age battling nothing really matters We're just kids battling bullies We're just children battling stupid ***** We're just teens battling terrifying stereotypes *We're just kids
Someone once told me Never give up. Your soul is beautiful. But what if, Just what if, I wanted to give up, Just this once, And create my soul to be imperfect?
It's all ok now, It's over, One last kiss, One last touch, And it's over. It's over. Please let your breath fade And wash over the pain, Because it's over. It's all ok.
If I was to write Something so terribly drastic I would get asked Question upon Question And if I was to write Something so terribly amazing I would be praised Compliment upon Compliment. Yet... Instead, I write this, Because that hardly happens And instead I am left Wondering doubt upon Doubt.
I have never met someone like you, Who likes the same music, And good food too, Talks and dances and acts and laughs, Like a child on a sugar rush, An angered adult playing Candy Crush, Or maybe a new born pup, What I'm trying to say is, I've never met, Someone like you.
If I told you That I was going to Take My Leave Would you miss me? Would you try to force me to stay? Even if I had no use Was a toy, Broken beyond repair? And so I Take My Leave For just a little while at least While I sort myself out And let my toy maker Tinker with his more reasonable creations
Love, hate, Whisper, dare Dance, sing, Kiss, stare Push, shove, Pull, it's only fair Look, shy away, From that man's lair You know, The one with the hair Kids, jeer, Point, and lastly *rave
Silly little beings, Who look down on others, Around them, And curse those who aren't Like them Or change as they grow, Oh, Silly little beings who hate Life And Others
I take the Words From what I see All around And put them together To form some sort of coherent poem Or story Or whatever I shall like And hope for the complete best
It's not quite this And not quite that Oh, a what a peculiar little Thing Let's see how it works, Yes We have to open it up, Cut it open Like an egg So soft, So fragile, Oh look; It bleeds. It cries. What a peculiar little thing. Until tomorrow.
It'd be wrong For me to utter Those three little words You deserve to hear It'd be hard To bear Watching those tears fall Onto your rosy cheeks Yet I can't bring myself to say "I love you," When I don't, You mutter under your breath, "I hate you, Go away," Yet I bring myself to say "I don't love you, I never did," And I wonder why, You push me ever further Why?
Sorry to bother but Hey. Remember me? The one that acts nonchalant, But feels like they're trying too hard. How are you? Fine. **Don't reply. I get it.
Sometimes you never feel good enough. That everyone hates you. Is judging for the expression you wear, Or the shoes on your feet, The clothes on your body, Your music taste and how well you can make friends. I get that all the time. Never feeling good enough defines my darkest thoughts. The shadows that cling to the invisible mass of my very mind. Will I ever be good enough? Will my expression ever be pretty enough? My shoes expensive enough? My clothes hip enough? The music and friends pop enough? Then these thoughts clear sometimes. Sometimes.