i let you put me through more sadness
than you could every know
yet i still let myself cling
to you

i walk through the isle
and pick up every color that i like
the glass cold in my hands
smooth under my fingertips
clean before my fingerprints
picking up each piece
not even bothering to be careful of the jagged edges
blood reds
sky blues
pale greens
golden yellows
i cradle each as they represent my past
place them gently in my basket and move on
i take them home
i place them on the floor
and play
which goes where
this goes here
until my mosaic is complete
it must be perfect
for this will eternally represent me
what holds the glass together
representing all that holds me together
in all my experiences
and colorful pieces

it was your favorite drink
i drank until i was sick
i spat it in the pool
and took another sip
it was your favorite songs
so i enjoyed them to
i’d listen on repeat
to only a few
it was my favorite book
i don’t really know why
i guess when i was gone
i didn’t need to cry
it was my favorite trip
even though i didn’t want to go
the sun set that day
was the most beautiful
i had to talk to you
every chance i could
i didn’t feel like walking
like i had before
i had to sit and soak
in all of the new world
and when i had to leave
i left part of my heart
it’s been two years now
i take another sip
i look up at the sky
and i remember all of it

months never meant anything
i was still betrayed
what does time matter?
i never wrote the dates on my papers anyway

thank you for making
my life so special
it never was
before you
i wished upon a star
but i never got my wish
but then you made that wish
come true
a single rose
was all i’d ever hoped
to be given
one day
and when i wished on you
you heard me
and gave me
my childhood wish
so thank you so much
for how much you care
the simple things
really mean a lot
and i’ll hold on
to this rose
until the pedals
all fall off
because it shows
how someone cares
enough to listen
to my thoughts

many times i have wished
to simply rip my skin
so that all that does not fit in
can leave

i want to tear myself
like paper, with ease
let the blood run out
let these feeling sease

i’m too young for this
i’m too old for this
i’m was not left with an assist
i was never prepared

but how can i do so
without hurting the ones around me
i would rather leave them
without a pained memory

the ringtones my phone made at your call
the whining when i said you were wrong
the screaming of disrespect
the pictures of your own wrists
the threats of if i didn’t stay
the snakes that escaped your mouth in words
the messages left that were “supposed to be kind”
the handcuffs of your wrists to mine
the blood of yours you put in my hands
the showers i took to wash it away
the brick wall i built that you couldn’t get through
“*******!” i screamed
and i know you heard me.

“i don’t know if i can do it anymore”
said with a hollow heart
from the mouth of a worn down saint
“i feel so tired”
it dropped from her lips
like paint from a canvas
“it gets so lonely”
she dragged her feet
against the pavement
“and every night is so cold”
and she twisted her hair
like she need please me
“disappear is a word i’ve learned to love”
her hands trembled
from the breeze or maybe the lacks
“and i think one day it will describe me”
her eyes met mine
and the only one crying was me

I’ve changed a lot in the past year
It may not be too apparent
I look the same, I speak the same
I never tell people about some life changing experience
Because I didn’t exactly have one
There was never a day I woke up and suddenly everything was okay
I don’t really think it’s like that for anyone
But I do believe everyone receives a day of realization
A day when suddenly all these changes hit you
And that can be good or bad
I always wanted an open mind
I wanted to be accepting of things and I wanted to focus on making people happy
I didn’t wake up one day and suddenly accept everyone
But I did sit with a friend I hadn’t talked to in months
And realized how much closer I was to the person I wanted to be
I used to be so strict on everyone and myself
I never realized how much it was truly burdening me until it was gone
Not completely gone of course, changing your way of thinking takes a long time
But I realized I didn’t care how I felt about peoples’ actions anymore
I now only cared about two things when it came to others actions:
One, I cared that it made them happy or benefited them in some way
And two, I cared that it didn’t hurt anyone else in some way
And once I got into that type of mindset, realizing what I truly believe became a lot easier
I still don’t understand everything or how I feel about many controversial topics,
But I don’t think I ever really will, and I’ve learned to be content with that.

Split into two
Yet still both in one
Left and Right
Always had a difference
The strong and the weak
The confidence and the fear
The hate and the love
Never felt as half and half
But always felt in pairs of whole
As if each a life of its own
And which was truly mine
I dont think ill ever know

A hand that longs for something to hold
Is only truly satisfied once in a lifetime
A pencil can enable a hand to write
A brush can enable a hand to paint
A fork can enable a hand to eat
A knife can enable a hand cut
But the hand only longs for one true partner
Something it never has to let go of
Something like a mirror image with five long limbs
Something like a mirror image with blood red ends that never drip
Something like a mirror image with blue lakes underneath
Yes, something like another of its own

there were a lot of small lifesavers
but like the candy, they only lasted for a short while
and after the flavor of one was gone i would find a new one
going and going until i ran out and had to buy another bag
music was one of themwh
i would listen instead of think
friends were one of them
i would talk instead of sleep
dreams were one of them
i would dream with eyes wide open
writing was one of them
i’d write to keep myself hoping
you were one of them
but you were different than the rest
the others only lasted a few months
but your sweet flavor never left

i’d rather not be in rooms so small that every time a voice is spoken all eyes meet my two in accusation

i’d rather not be in a house so small that midnight trips to keep ones self from dying of accidental starvation are welcomed with a booming “Why are you still awake? Go back to sleep!” rather than a “i’ll see you in the morning, goodnight”

if rather not be in a house so small that every time something goes wrong i’m the one to blame because i’m the smallest of the small in this small house

i’d rather not live in a house where water bills matter less than haircuts and even haircuts don’t matter when it comes to me

i’d rather not live in a house where any time an outsider comes in they become afraid of the silence; never have they been an a house with no soul

i’d rather not live in a house where a bedroom needs to be kept clean at all times yet the living room could fall apart in shambles and we wouldn’t touch it for a week

i’d rather not live in a house where the walls are so think i can hear the voices on the other side speaking my name and saying terrible things

i’d rather be almost anywhere but here most of the time, but alas here i have to stay hoping that this all will end one day

weave
in and out
breathe
in and out
beat
up and down
feet
up and down
words
in my mouth
push
their way out
words
in my mouth
i
swallow them down
and smile delicately
as if i have not another thing to say
because who can stand
the lengthened sentences
of a romanticist ?
it seems, only me

I try to teach myself to stand on my own two feet
But i don’t know how well i can anymore
“Your grades are great”
“You’re really pretty”
“What do you have to worry about?”

I have to worry about how long i can push myself and how much of that studying i have to do tomorrow because i can’t stay awake on four hours of sleep through another day

I have to worry about how much this will bring down my grade compared to that because i don’t know how much homework i can force myself to do when i don’t even feel like leaving my bed

I have to worry about talking to my boyfriend for at least thirty minutes just so he doesn’t think i don’t love him anymore

I have to worry about sounding happy and looking happy and smiling happily and laughing happily

I HAVE TO WORRY ABOUT PRETENDING TO BE HAPPY

I have to worry about what to wear tomorrow
And the next day
And the next day because heaven forbid i come to school in my pajamas because i would loose all my social standing

I have to worry about how long it takes me to make that shake in the morning so i have time to have SOMETHING, just SOME calories in the morning so people can’t say “that’s why you’re too skinny” and just enough to keep my stomach from sounding like a whale, because God, do i know how people love to laugh at that

I have to worry about when i want to wear my makeup and when i don’t because i don’t want people to always expect makeup out of me but i still want to look nice

I have to worry about how i do my makeup because oh do i know how too much for a normal day or a simple slightly off shade can make everyone see me as a terrible monster

I have to worry about the color of my hair and the colors that i wear, does it bring out my eyes? who even cares?
Me.
Everybody.

I have to look perfect i have to seem perfect my grades have to be perfect my outfits have to be perfect
I have to be
Perfect

Ladies and Gentlemen,
That is what i have to worry about

I ink my arms when i am down in order to keep myself from cutting them
I create beautiful stories of the love i hold for you in my head that are then mostly forgotten as i wake
Lanterns mean so much to me not solely because of their beauty but because they remind me of how i let go of one i had in my life a long time ago
My weird habits likely stem from people in my past who i still hold on my heart, maybe just a little
I have a collection of over twenty entirely empty composition notebooks solely to fill with my poetry in the future
I may have a problem because i still want more composition notebooks when i’ve only filled three
I decorate my room and clean it myself not because i’m OCD but because i believe i’m happier when my surroundings are clean, another reason i want to leave this city
I love to go on trips because i hate where i’m at, the people here are as trash on the inside as this city is trash on the outside
Style makes me happy and satisfied even if i can’t keep one of my own, i like to believe that i am just too disperse for that
Looking into my eyes in the mirror as i cry is soothing and you will find i do it a lot
My favorite flower is anything but roses because what a cliche right? but i still want roses on valentine’s day
I will never admit my addiction to chocolate as more than a joke because when someone starts believing it is a problem for real, so will i
My music taste is spread far out to where the only things i can’t stand are things without lyrics, also some techno is acceptable
Why do i think you need to know this? who knows
I guess to let you know that i am deeper than this screen you’re looking at shows

I can no longer wake up and watch the sun rise blissfully over the horizon with my only friend
I can no longer feel the air on my face and the pedals below my feet as i ride on my bike, singing the same song over and over like the path i ride which is round and round
I can no longer hear a door crack and a quiet “are you up yet” from my mother’s soothing voice
I can no longer find all the comfort i need in the rays of sunlight and hundred cuties i would take in a day, every single day
I can no longer chase after the only truck we were allowed to approach because who doesn’t trust the ice cream man?
I can no longer simply live to be happy and be happy to live
Bring me back to when that was every day
Bring me back to when sitting in a plastic chair every day in order to one day barely be able to support myself wasn’t something that meant so much
Bring me back to when the color of your hair and the size of your body never mattered
Bring me back to when the weekends were a time for friends rather than a time to catch up on everything you are behind on
Bring me back to when the homework took twenty minutes rather than five hours
Bring me back to when i didn’t have to worry about cherishing my social life because i didn’t need to have one but i did
Bring me back to when things were simple and the life i lived made sense
Not to now where the only sense i’ve gained was to pick up a book and read all night if i want to make enough money to feed myself one day
Bring me back

You see i have a condition
One you’ve surely never heard of Because it doesn’t exist
When my mom was asked to describe it to my therapist she said
“I think she just has a hard time dealing with things...with everything. Even normal things.”
Which is very much true honestly, i can’t even look at pretty girls and not throw a pity party
In fact sometimes a pity party feels better than the sixteenth birthday party i would have had were it not for all of my own problems
Like not being able to accept that all my birthday party decorations HAD to be pink (gags)
Of course there is full truth to me not always being able to handle normal things
Heck i had a mental breakdown when i couldn’t figure out how to put my gift card on amazon (btw there was no way for me to do so)
And again when i couldn’t decide for myself if i wanted mint green in my hair or not since it was only going to be a small amount
And again every time my boyfriend says “you need to decide somethings for yourself. i’m not making this decision for you.”
I can barely get through getting a normal amount of homework done, not to mention the fact that i have extra because of my special classes and my high ranked school
By the time it’s all over and i’ve stepped off the bus i’m done and have to force feed myself the knowledge like i have to force feed myself food because i’m just too skinny
Once again i can’t eat as much as everyone else and the thought of eating in front of family every holiday kills me
How i’m still alive at this point when i can barely deal with having to unload a dishwasher i don’t know
I don’t mind things, I just don’t know how to handle them
I guess the way my mother put it was right
I simply have a hard time handling everything.

Maybe you can't get to me
Maybe I'm just a princess inside her tower
Not knowing you're out there
Fighting for me
Or maybe you aren't trying to get to me
And I’ll be locked away forever
Or until someone else discovers me
And thinks I'm worth fighting for

But I will never know the truth
Until someone shows up in my room
Maybe it’ll be you
Or  maybe another fighting prince
He will wake me with a kiss
And carry me off into the sunset

Or maybe no one will come
No one will see me worth fighting for
Or maybe I'll always be undiscovered

A princess hidden in her tower
Waiting for someone to notice her
And think I'm worth fighting for

But maybe that's not the truth
Maybe I'm not worth fighting for
Maybe I deserve what I've got
And that's why you're not here yet

Maybe you're not coming cause you hate the true me
Maybe you just choose not to care
Maybe I'm not worth fighting for to you anymore
And I know I'm not the best choice
I may be the worst
But maybe you'll forgive me
Even though it hurts

Hurting you was my spindle move
Which I now regret
Dosent matter what I'm wearing anymore
I don't have your compliments

And now I'm in my tower
With all my fear and regret
Daydreaming with closed eyes
Thinking 'bout what I said

Partially hoping you don't come
Partially hoping you do
So I can tell you I'm sorry
For making my spindle move

And maybe it hurts me
Worse than it hurts you
Just knowing that I cause you pain
Is enough to **** me through and through

i fell in love with the idea of having another life in my room
not just me in this decorated box
not just me in this hollowed out block
but my life and another’s
alone in what i consider my comfort zone
listening to the rain through all the storms
watching as the sunshine floats through the window like glitter
and through all of this
the only life i want to share this with is yours

how strong can one stand
against the powers of their own home?
pushing against the weight of the walls
closing them in from the outside
questions and answers, always the same
you may not leave this home today
pushing and pushing forcing a fit
they’re old enough now, snap out of it
the only way out is through the glass
around the fame a body will pass
free in the night, oh where will they go?
anywhere because anywhere’s better than home

hell in a body
thats what they call me
eyes so glassy i can’t even see
tears flowing down with my anxiety
getting yelled at living life too selfishly
being told that i’m a spoiled brat only
being hated because i’m so lonely
being hated because i live quietly
being hated because i am me
hell in a body
that’s what they told me
that what i experience
that makes me lonely
that’s what causes tears
so much that i can’t see
that’s what causes all
my anxiety
that’s what causes hatred
to boil in my heart
not for those around me
but for solely my own self
hell in a body
that’s all i ever feel
too tired to even try anymore
too weak to even move
my body burns down
like a house i should live in
leaving behind ashes and black
i want it to all be over
hell in a body.

hey baby i think i love you
saw you across the room
all the flowers began to bloom
the smile on your face
oh it takes the pain away
the warm of your arms
oh its tearing me apart
because all i what is you
you make your way towards me
oh we’ll have to wait and see
will you fall in love with me
like i fell in love with you?
see the twinkle in my eye?
yes i maybe kinda shy
but put your arm around me
please just let me know you’re mine
because all i want is you
and to be yours

i sit down at the table with my one waffle
one of the egos ones that you put in the toaster
it’s covered in peanut butter and syrup
yet i still don’t want to eat it
one bite, two bites, three bites i’m good
but soon enough i’m sick of it and want to throw the rest away
one more bit i say
then another
then another
until the whole waffle is gone and my stomach hurts
because i need the extra calories don’t i?
fifteen pounds underweight
being told i look like i’m starving myself
i just want to be normal
that’s normal, right?
packing my lunch with extra snacks
not because my mom said i couldn’t
but because i need the extra food
i’m so tired of being this way
i forced myself to eat and eat until i gag and then i stop for a bit so none of my hard work comes up
people who can’t stop eating aren’t the only ones who need help
someone please help the ones who can barely eat at all

oh i know i shouldn’t do it
but God, it feels so good
anything to stop the pain
is something i’m willing to do
don’t push yourself like that
but please i need to
all i can ever feel
is what this causes
release the dopamine or whatever you call it
just please keep me from going back
i would rather betray myself in every way
than go back to that
back to the way i was in the dark
back to the way i was all alone
back to the way i used to be
please. just let me hold on
just this one thing
it will make it all better in the end
you’ll see
you’ll see.

there are some things you just learn in life
i learned
you either
live
die
or live dead
and the best choice is to live
and the worst is likely live dead
because even though you can come back from it
you feel like you never will
whereas dead is already gone
but still
you don’t chose to die
over to live dead
because help can be found
for the pain from your head

so much to handle
it rolls and rolls
down the page
down my face
like a raging waterfall
not understanding
hurts the worst
superior they are to you
you know nothing at all
just another reason
for the waterfall
oh all the confusion
building up inside
i use the hurt to build a wall
i close the door and hide
visiting hours they come and go
like my will to move
people pass by with their own words
that hurt to the roots
so dark and cold in the tower i built
but who could get me out
one day the door will soon be gone
and i’ll be left with doubt

There are many things that people believe in
Some more playful than real
Like how the sun and the moon are lovers
So many theories about humanity
All the ins and outs of it
All the whys and how’s
How the sound of toes tapping on the floor
And water falling from the sky in drops
Can make us who we are
But what if there really is more?
Maybe inside of us there’s something making us who we are
So many of us of this world being held down
How someone’s views and opinions are what makes them
What about the ones who are more?
The ones with the beautiful souls
The ones who only care about feelings, happiness, fullness of life, and beauty
The ones who are a spark in the darkness of he world
The ones you notice simply by how they don’t touch the earth when they walk, they glide as if every step takes place on a star
The ones who come when people need it most, sending boring lives into hurricanes of colors, thoughts, and questions
The ones that are a little more beautiful and a little more tragic than the rest
Maybe, just maybe
The people are a little more universe
Maybe a normal soul is made of grass and trees and warm spring days or cold and snow on a winter night
But that could not compare to the soul of a universe
Infinite and dark and beautiful
Where stars are steps and ideas are realities and colors are just a bit more vibrant
Maybe some of us are just created more universe than the rest of us
But it makes all the difference

I can scream
I can rip
I can yell
I can grip
I can slice
I can cry
I can run
I can die
Because no one notices
When you hide how you feel
Behind the door
That is your mouth
That you can not open to strangers or neighbors
And behind the eyes
That are your windows
That you can not pour water out of no matter how bad it’s flooding

today i’m a little bit more sad that yesterday
the pain of the missing person i won’t see sinks into me
so used to having them by my side whenever i call
not having them here makes me feel ten times as weak as i am strong
i want to hold his hand and feel his touch
but the fact that we’re kids puts a wall between us
and the time that we spend with other people
limits the time that we have to ourselves
holding on until he is back is all i can do
i’ll wait day and night just to hear his “i love you”

part of me still loves all of my old loves
all the ones that left and hurt me
no matter how bad they treated me
a part of me will always be with them
intertwined in the pages in my mind
that keep the story of my past loves

my depression is a monster
clothed in a shadow hiding its face
it wrestles me to the ground
and i try to fight back
but i’m barely strong enough to stay alive
sometimes it hits me and i get knocked down
the damages can last for a while
and sometimes i get a hit in
but that only makes it angrier
more hungry to feed on what is inside of me
i hope one day to take this monster
to be able to walk it on a leash
and maybe it will listen to most of my commands
but until then i just have to keep trying
and until then that is what i will do

I’m insecure
And that is okay
In a way
Yes i should work on it
No i should not be
Criticized
Disrespected
“Proven wrong”
Or anything else
Because that is normal
And no matter what
We are all beautiful

pictures are filled with these
perfect places
perfect people
perfect words
and a perfect world
yet i’ve seen no evidence of this myself
so i refuse to believe it
as if reading a story book
i know it’s all a lie