Dear Dad,

I always tried to understand
Why you felt like no one held your hand

I tried to know why **** and alcohol
Became your refuge, your silent wall
And why you feared the noise and crowded places,
Maybe the world just held too many empty spaces.

I really tried and tried to see inside
But some things you decided to hide
Maybe life was just too hard
For your already broken heart

There were bright days, and there were dark
But your eyes always missed their spark
I asked you if you were oke
And you said: "Happiness never wanted to stay"

I'm mourning the person
I never became
The one who was normal
Who didn't carry all the blame

My younger self would dream
Of many friends and happiness
But all I am now
Is a lump of unsteadiness

I'm mourning the idea
Of the person I would have liked to be
The one that could have been me
The one
That isn't

I never became someone
My younger self wished to be
Saw the things she wanted to see
Instead I feel all this pain constantly

Is that what she survived for?
She did not survive for me to be miserable
She survived for more
She survived for someone
I never became

Let's praise Him in the morning.
Let's praise Him in the night.
Let's praise Him when we low.
Let's praise Him when we high.
Let's praise Him in the good times.
Let's praise Him in the bad.
Let's praise Him because He has made us.
And this is our all.
Let's praise Him.

I didn’t understand my beauty inside
so I cried such fountains from my eyes
nobody knows about my thoughts
And the scars on my body
from the people who taunt
I could only cope with the relief
With all my surrounding grief
It’s hard to stop once I’d begun
Although it hurts more knowing what I’d done
Nobody understands so they just shout
That makes me feel worthless, about myself with doubt
What will make them listen?
Without a fight
After all it saves me another malicious ****** night
So this poem is ending
I need to find an alternative
From the sharp tools across my skin
And hopefully I will find my beauty within

Why do I feel so separated from life, so separated from myself, my soul?

I feel like I'm alone, yet surrounded.

What is this feeling of sorrow, the feeling of water in my eyes?

Why do I feel so guilty, for living?

I feel as if I'm separating, from everything and one.

In this life, as if there is something wrong.

Because so far, we have all been broken and separated.

Yet I don't want that for us, I want you to stay.

So please stay and, don't separate from me.

You have to be young
to disappear…
and healthy enough
to fall into the cracks
of a new tomorrow

You have to be young
to isolate…
and strong enough
to brave the winter
of a new becoming

A strange pattern for
writing has come
to me lately.
The skeletons of
poems form when I
lie down for a nap.
Sleep always calls,
and bones want to
dance and grow skin.
Lilacs bloom, and I feel
the inner thigh of
eternity, soft and wet.

I can't get any rest.
I have to jot down the
notes or they turn
to ashes and blow away,
or, they are buried deep in
mud and slumber,
impossible to dig up.

I sleep with a notebook and
pen, as I drift off,
I whisper to the tortured
bones,
don't cry and try not to worry.
I'll bring you to life.