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

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

when all you want out of me is my body
and all i want out of you is something to do
that's when this becomes wrong
when i'm just a book for you to read
and you're just a reason to stay awake
that's when this becomes wrong
when i only give you what you want
and all that you provide is peace
that's when this becomes wrong
when all i am is clay in your hands
and i'm still no piece of artwork
that's when this becomes wrong
and when it's not over
but it's long gone done
that's when this is definitely wrong

We don't talk much
But when we do
It's like a drug to me
High on this feeling
Of being cared about
By you
I wouldn't trade anything for it
It makes everything worth it

It crawls up my spine
And whispers in my ear
It tells me so many things
I don't want to hear
It says you hate me
And you always have
It says I'm worthless
That I'm stupid and bad
It says I have
No talents at all
It tells me that
You think I'm too tall
It tells me that
I'm not what you want
It makes me think
What you say is a front
It tells me that
I'm not good enough for you
Oh the things
It puts me through
And what can I do
When that's all I hear?
All these horrid things
Whispered in my ear
And could I tell you
What the voice says
Or would you leave me
Because of my head
You say you want to help
But I'm filled with fear
Because what if I scare
You away one day, Dear
Insecurities.

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.

i’m not your radio station
you can’t choose when you want me
i may sing
i may play
but i’m not yours just any day
you can’t just switch to other people
when you don’t like me most
when switching stations comes to people
it becomes personal
i can’t just play my music for you
when i play it the best
sometimes i’m your favorite song
and sometimes it’s the rest
i don’t like how you switch between
me and another station
when a song comes on that you don’t like
but then you switch back
that’s your attack
this is how you fight
treating me like this
is not a burden to you
you show no pain
in changing
when i’m too slow for you
so the next time
a musical note
leaves my head and mind
you can be sure
it won’t be for you
never again am i an “anytime”
so go find another station to play
‘cause next time you come back to me
all you’ll hear is
white noise
white noise
and that will be your sign
that you’re not welcome anymore
that i am no longer your radio station
no longer am i just an “anytime”

Who convinced me that I wasn't beautiful
Who convinced me that I wasn't enough
Was it me or a past ghost I no longer remember because it was painful enough to block it out but also painful enough to let it control my thoughts
Who convinced me of all the negative things about me
I'm beautiful and because of that person I can no longer always see that
Yes sometimes I can dance in front of the mirror and laugh at myself
But other times staring into the mirror makes me cry
Why did I let this person convince me of such terrible things
How could I have let someone like this in back then
And why can't I let anyone better than that person in now

I don't know who I am
Sometimes I don't know who I want to be
But I know who I'm not
And I know who I don't want to be
And that is much more important if you ask me

there were a lot of winners that day
lessing the amount of special i felt
everyone acting like it was normal
and not a big deal
that what i has been hoping for
was finally becoming real
that the one thing i’m confident it
didn’t really matter
“who cares about poetry anymore?”
emitted from the lips of strangers
ones who would never appreciate
the beauty of that ink on that paper
like i do

your words fill my head like a stomach and bread
if you knew my diet, you’d think i’d be dead
before you came around there was no reason to eat
but now that you’re here i have words of wheat
something to keep me from shriveling up
something to make sure that i fill my cup
a reason to eat and a reason to breathe
you can’t leave me now, oh i’m begging you please
your words are what fill me
they’re all that i have
so keep talking to me
before i go mad

i want to touch your skin like the sunlight touches your face
i want to take in your scent like a child smelling flowers
i want to see your presence like seeing my first sunset in a year
i just want you and i want to be happy

chained to you
how could it be
when you were somehow
chained to me
i can not leave
i am stuck here
as i cry
a single tear
if i leave
you might just die
i threatened
and heard you cry
but for you to not
cause any pain
i must hurt
myself in vain
i’d rather me hurt
than hear you cry
i’d rather be killed
than see you died
so now i’m chained
where i can’t leave
wrist to wrist
in cold metal
hand in hand
once happily
i caused you to
make slits in your skin
remove the band-aids dear
i’m here for you now like i was then
i wasn’t going to forever leave
i was going to stay by your side
but even if i threaten minorly
the pain on your wrists will arise
so i’ll stay chained to you
so you won’t jump off that cliff
if my wrists are chained to yours
you can make no more slits