There are days when I drown in emotion
When I bleed it out, with words on a sheet
The pain, the grief, the anger or envy
Regret, heartbreak, hatred till I'm replete.

So then I decide not to write again-
I don't want to swim in self-pity.
But I break; I cannot stop! How could I?
Poems bring out light when life is ******.

My words may be crude, they're surely broken,
With no rhythm, rhyme, or sense, many a time.
Yet they weave a thread that guides me ahead,
That holds me aloft when I cease to climb.

Would you kindly
hug me tight
with your hands
around my neck?
Would you kindly spend the night
and comfort this nervous wreck?

Could you show me a smile
while you tell me that I'm trash
Could you insult my lifestyle
without even batting an eyelash

Should you care about garbage like me
your tastes must be perverted
Should I be allowed to feel this happy
honestly, I'm uncertain.

I need you to use your claws
to draw out the blood from my skin
I need you to break through the walls
I built to hide my true self within

I need you to split me open and dig inside
to grasp at my heart if you can
I need you to know the thoughts that I hide
and love the person I really am

Someone please help me set free
The poet that resides within me
It's so hard to put my thoughts to pen
Even if I can now and then

All I can do is write from the heart
But it's difficult to know where to start
When I lack the creative spark
And its tearing me apart

So I fall back on these rhyming tools
Play the fool, trying to be cool
It's hard to write poetry
When I cant even see
What's inside the real me

I fear you as you stand there and I sit here
I fear you, you stand there, I sit here
I fear, you stand, I sit
Fear is standing where I sit
Maybe if I stand it sits?
If I stand it sits
I stand it sits
I stand
Now maybe it’ll leave me alone
Maybe it’ll leave me alone
It’ll leave me alone
Me Alone
Alone
The quiet’s not nearly as unnerving as I thought
Nearly as unnerving as I thought
Unnerving as I thought
I thought
Thought
I’m lonely without you standing on me
I’m lonely you’re standing on me
You’re standing on me
You’re on me
You’re me

I want to **** myself
How do I tell my loved ones that I'm suicidal again
Nothin bads happened
I just feel hopeless again
They stay positive when I tell them there's no point to life
Which ****** me off
Cause I can't see it
This mythical rainbow that y'all speak about
Just ****** me off cause all I see is black and white
Life or death
Happiness or sadness
Hate or love
I hate you for being able to see the rainbow
Because I can't
All I see is black and white in a sea of red
Nothing seems to help and I don't know how to tell you that
Because every time I do you try to make me feel better
But that's not what I need
I need you to come join me in my depression hole for a while so I'm a little less alone
Don't point out the rainbow
Just comment on the black and white and don't comment on the fact that I live in a sea of red

you asked me to draw my past
i drew in red lines and harsh corners with no boundries
red lines because my body is covered in them
harsh corners because the turns my life took often make my neck snap
no boundries because i knew no wrong felt no remorse saw nothing as off limits
you asked me to draw my present
i left the paper blank
i feel nothing
i am nothing
whatever people say to me to help me recover is who i become
i am like a mirror or a blank slate reflecting what the artist wants to see
you ask me to draw my future
i draw triangles and rectangles
because the turns are still sharp but more expected
and i am fitting into society but i'm not a box

Why do you go in the water at night doesn't it scare you
Why yes it does
But that's why I love it
It's the one time I'm afraid for a reason other people are too
And along with the fear I feel relief
Relief from wanting to **** myself
Because while I'm in this dark black water with no moonlight
If I were to die it wouldn't be my fault
It wouldn't be because I slit my wrists it wouldn't be my fault
It would be because I drowned on accident
Or a shark came and ate me
Or I died of pneumonia
They wouldn't write in my obituary that I struggled and eventually committed suicide
They would write what an amazing kid I was and that God took their little angel away too soon
Just for a while my death isn't on my shoulders
So yes I am afraid but I'm also liberated

Can I **** myself?
I don't know can you?
May I **** myself?
Were you not taught any manners?
May I please **** myself?
Yes dear, go ahead.