18
I pack the last box onto the truck,
from a half empty house,
that no longer feels like a home

17
We only see each other in passing,
even though we live a room apart,

16
We start to grow apart,
We barely even see each other anymore,
much less, talk to each other,

15
Maybe one day we can get over this and move on,
It'll take some growing up for me,
and we will need to be there for each other to do it,

14
I stand under a tree in a field sprinkled with snow,
I've already thrown my backpack as far as I can in anger,
I've already heard the 3 words you've cried to me as we both got home,
"Tyler, Daddy's dead."

13
There's a new development in our house,
a hole in the wall the size of a fist,
You gather your things and walk down the street,
not even sober enough to drive,
but you're back at the house the next morning

My mother sips the word
"divorce"
her mouth curls at the taste
like it burns going down.
She's tired of the fighting.

12
I've come up with this theory that my father started drinking again
because maybe I'm such a disappointment in his eyes,

Like if he could make everything else blurry,
maybe somehow I'd look normal.

11
My father sits in a bathtub all day,
doing his own method of detox,
my mother tends to him,
we all support him,
maybe the third time is the charm,

11
I blame myself.

11
My mother blames herself.

11
My brother blames my father.

10
The only things I notice in the house are the PlayStation and my other toys,
My family is happy, and that makes me happy.

9
My father doesn't drink as much
as the rest of my aunts and uncles at Christmas and Thanksgiving,
It doesn't mean anything to me,
I just know
we don't even think about it.

8

7

6
I wanna be Spiderman.
Or my dad.
They're kinda the same thing.

5

4

3
I have a nightmare.  
I get into Mommy and Daddy's bed,
Stuffed animal in hand.
Daddy isn't there,
I get up to go look for him,
Daddy's standing in his underwear
silhouetted by the refrigerator light.
He raises a bottle to his lips.

2

1

0
When my mother was pregnant with me
I wonder if she hoped,
like so many mothers do,
that her baby boy
would grow up to be
just,
like,
his,
father.


I've come to terms today with the fact that the world is going to end...

All of the depression and suicidal thoughts won't mean anything soon,
All of the moments where it felt like the world was on my side will soon cease to exist,
All the hands I've held and the girls I've kissed, that won't matter,

Religion seems so conveniently placed to help ease people into the concept of death,
It seems to make us welcome it with more open arms and create a new culture out of it,
Death enters homes entitled "Holy Bible",
Death enters homes entitled "The Quaran",
Death enters lives and names itself "family",
Death enters lives and names itself "friend",

I've seen the world through rose colored glasses,
It felt fake so I took them off,
I saw the world through my own eyes,
And I wish I had never taken the glasses off,

I've imagined what it would feel like to escape my mind,
I've imagined what it would be like for people to actually care,
I've dreamt of actually being someone,  and then had the realization that I would never be,

I've detailed my notebooks with my thoughts more than I've let them escape my mouth,
I've kept to myself and hurt because of it more times than I've actually asked for help,
I've told everyone around me that I was fine, even though I clearly wasn't, too many times to count,
And even though I'm fine now, I can't speak for the future, and I can't speak for all the times I wasn't in the past,

If death is so bad then why do so many people wish that they ceased to exist?
Maybe religion has it right and death isn't overglorified,
But since I've finally got my head straight, I'm going to enjoy the time I have left until my next spell of depression comes,

It doesn't really matter what the future holds...

...because I've come to terms today with the fact that the world is going to end.

I have so much to say
But I'm afraid to say it
As if the inner mechanisms of my mind
Would fall apart
Cog by cog
If I were to diagram how my mind spins in circles
I'd surely scare you away
But is that what I'm afraid of?

Hello, metal man.
Machine man.
They've taught you how to feel
How to hide behind your framework
Until you no longer resemble yourself
Until you are more cyborg than human
But what is it that you fear?
For your beady eyes still show resent
From a past you cannot remember.

What's wrong?
Oh nothing. It's nothing. Just ignore it.

What's wrong?
Well, I'm convinced my father just killed himself and my last words to him were that I hate him. But... It's nothing. Just ignore it.

What's wrong?
I think I'm being cheated on? This is middle school. Who would do that in middle school? It's nothing. Just ignore it.

What's wrong?
Well, I'm still getting picked on. The kids here are really... REALLY mean sometimes. They like to hate on me for being smart. It's nothing. Just ignore it.

What's wrong?
Am I too scared to swallow all of these pills? Probably? Am I gonna do it anyways? Well... What other choice do I have? It's nothing. Just ignore it.

What's wrong?
My mom stands over my gravesite. Crying.

She didn't know that anything was wrong to begin with.

It's nothing. Just ignore it.

I break myself in half,
Not physically, but emotionally,
I have had moments when I thought of nothing and everything all at once,
I have had visions of going no where,
The ticks in my head never stop.

You give a blind man eye glasses not to be offensive but in an attempt to help a situation that you know nothing about,

You give the mute woman a megaphone because you don't know the situation,

Similarly, you don't know who I am now in my disparity any more than I remember who I set out to be.

I dreamt of being fantastic,
I dreamt of being someone,
Most importantly, I dreamt.

That's not something I can say anymore,
The dreams stopped,
Reality set in,
The lens' in my rose colored glasses have shattered,
And they cannot be replaced...

I have become the blind man,
The glasses no longer help me,

I have become the mute woman,
My words are no longer heard,

My voice is muted,
But my mind never stops running,

"I think, therefore I am," has become,
"I think, therefore I will be,"

But for me, I thought, therefore I was.

There's a difference between a dad and a father,
Even though both, your life can alter,

Because My father was an alcoholic abusive one,
And My dad cares about me, I'm not even his son,
I have a brother, we're not related by blood,
Just emotion, it flows and makes us who we are,

I've always been amazed by the moon and the stars,
If the night sky is perfection like we have in our minds,
Then why does a shooting star break free and glide?
It simply decides that it's predetermined place,
Is incorrect in balance with the vastness of space,
And if our minds mock the sky and we wish on that star,
Then we wish on the mirrored imperfections we are.

These words mean whatever you need them to mean,
They mean no less than what you make them out to say,
And the make no more than however you process them,
To me, these words ring like the sound of putting down the blade,
They slide like the sound of untying the rope,
They clank together like the sound of retreating the pill bottles,
The disappear like the smoke in the air,
There's a release in these words,
But it's not the release that I would take from what is written,
These words mean whatever you need them to mean.

In the beginning there was peace,
then violence increased.

Let my end be my release.