Don't ever say
this lifes just not worth living
and don't you ever believe
that you can't be happy
so please don't be
just another statistic
I won't give up on you
if you will do the same
please don't fake another smile
what good will it do
if we don't know you're hurting
why pretend to happy
when we can be happy for real
please understand that you
can be the best
if you learn to love yourself.

it will be a very long time
before i stop thinking of your lips
every time
i hear the word
*"kiss"

Its a different town, the one that I enter now.
The milkman stands tall in the fog of the morning.
Wild dogs run wild, hunting for scraps
and it seems as if the whole town is up and alive
So I become someone I am not
I become alive for a moment
and in this embrace of another me,
I see a different town, and perhaps a different me
because all that is worth living for,
is here, right there, in front of me
The sun is not shining; its a cloudy day
yet the leaves have their chins up
as if they do not feed on the sun
but on the energy of me, and the people of this town.
An old lady sits on a bench at the edge of mud house
and she calls me over
With each step that I take,
I notice an odd reality,
the old lady is an anomaly; she is very old
and she’s getting older as I come closer
the wrinkles beneath her eyes grow more defined
her humble-ness becomes apparent with her frail frame
And then something out of the blue occurs
because fury is issuing from her lips.
I clearly fail to grasp why,
but as I drown out the rest of the noise
I listen to her
and I notice the pain in her tone
and this tone tells me a story of a different town
the one I am in now
of how it is not what it seems
of how life isn’t life when its all green
With each word, I toil away for focus
and break down the thought
that this town is leading to a better me,
because I am looking for something
that resides inside of me
and not in any town, or anywhere
where the sun does not shine
or the leaves glow in green
there is nothing to change me
that lies outside of me
and this is where I understand
that life is life, even when its not green.

hot summer raindrops boil
like memories on my skin,
and i remember when
the wind helped destroy
the power surge within me.
i am pure electricity
and i hope i am strong enough
to cause a blackout
in the place
we stole small caresses:
the eye of the storm.
thunder booms and
i am consumed
more and more
with my loud tongue
and vapid thoughts;
not instinct,
but rather, taught.
i seemed to have forgotten
or lost the notion
that someone else could want me
in your sultry words,
sparked with lies.
i will keep the narcissism,
but you can close your eyes
against the onslaught
and get the **** out;
and no, i do not care
if you get soaked.
i have had enough
to know i do not
need you anymore
and that this
is only a joke to you.
i am a thunderstorm
and you will only drown
in the downpour.

It must be hard
If you're not depressed
To understand the difficulty
Of just getting dressed
It must be hard
If you don't starve
To imagine winter woollens
Hats, gloves and scarves
In the summer.
It must be hard
If you don't ***** your food
To understand the waste
Once it's been swallowed and chewed
It must be heard
If you don't hear voices
To imagine
Someone else
Dictating your choices
It must be hard
If you don't have compulsions
To understand the urge
The panic and convulsions
Of just saying no.
It must be hard
If you don't have an attachment
To a narcotic or a bottle
To understand how it can
Throttle you, to just one more hit.
It must be hard,
If you don't cut at your wrists
To understand
How someone could do this.
It must be hard
If you don't suffer highs and lows
To understand how quickly
Such a feeling, comes and goes
As it pleases.
It must be hard
If you've never had a chemical imbalance
In your brain
Or a contributing factor, a stressful event
To understand the insane.

It's not like a broken leg,
A sprained wrist, the flu
Where someone can easily
Treat and diagnose you.
It's not something that just goes away
And I'm not trying to say
That everyone doesn't understand
I'm just lending a hand,
To those who struggle
To make sense
Of the dents in our thinking
The depths that we're sinking
The vacant eyes that are blinking
As we're thrown around inside
Our own minds.

2013 ©

This applies to every single one of you. No matter how little you may believe you are worth, I swear to you, you are worth more, way more than you could ever imagine, in your wildest dreams. You are worth the same as those you value most, that girl with the body you aspire yours to be like, those people that you envy for being so naturally beautiful, your closest friends, your family. You are worth every piece of happiness, hope and health. I promise. You are not a diagnosis or a statistic, defined by criteria, percentiles and numerical figures, no. You are so much more. You are more than the inches around your waist, the abs on your stomach, the lbs that creep up and down on the scales, the self defeating thoughts, the highlighting of your insecurities, the constant regrets.
You are the air you breathe, the laughter that slips between your lips, the fight that you said you had ran out of months ago. The love you share and feel, the smiles that sweep across your face, those moments where happiness feels so close that you can almost taste it. You are daylight, the sun, nightlife, clubs and music and drunken confessions. You are a shining star, the scent of your favourite perfume, your most treasured memories crammed into ink and squashed between frames.

Never doubt that you are more.

2013 ©