If you don't like me, as I do you:
I understand.
Because who would want a daisy when they can get a rose.

I know what Its like to want to die.
How It hurts to smile.
How you try to fit In but you can't.
How you hurt yourself on the outside,
Because you're trying to **** the thing on the Inside.

I'd cross sea's,
climb mountains,
and fight bears,
Just to hear you and see you.

And I'd stay up all night writing,
just to stop myself,
from etching my feelings Into my skin,
Just to hear you say 'I'm proud of You'

Dreams,

symphonies of sounds, and arrangements of metaphoric surrealism

the hibernation of ones mysterious thoughts and deepest actions

a psychedelic wonderland of white rabbits frolicking down holes,
a time warp of madmen
 the thought of being chased by dark shadows
in the mind of monsters that hide under the foot of the bed.


Dreams, 

a stew of emotions boiling and biting at our ankles,
a *** of acid-spiked visions so unclear 

a world where billows of color mix and mutate

the tall man chasing us young children through scenes of disruption and
everything within us as mortal beings 
where buddhist pray and the sun shines,
leaping over peace pigmented hills,
filled with hysteria and delirium 

the dreams that have left me uneasy and the dreams that leave me wanting more

It's a disease
Manipulative and painful
Traveling through the veins of innocent people
Wandering through the genes of many
Its cancer.

I look at the shelf where I keep your pictures, figurines, and such
I think of the red wine made with your soft Sicilian touch
Sitting under the grape vines, reminiscing great times,I read the poem that you left for us to read and it tells me not to weep

The slices I stow are on my wrist in a row,

they will turn to quiet grieving scars,

even if my heart is crying out for help.

No one can hear me, no one would care.

No one would ask me, no one would dare.

Coming off as a tough girl, they are deceived.

I am really just scared, but I am care free.

I fret the day I face my fears because it is a mystery.

You shall fret too, because one day there will be a note to read,

that thanks my friends and family,

I’ll apologize for my being and again I will thank you all so much.

At the end of the day, I’ll be dead from pills, drugs, and such.

Many will realize that this happy girl was sad,

Now they might feel like this was all of there bad.

I lied to everyone, saying “I’m fine.”

So it’s my bad, I had crossed the line.

Don’t care, don’t mourn for it was a mistake that I was even born.

You soon will find my used utensils,
such as my scissors, bands, and razorblades.

Take good care they were my treasure.

The death I chose was a mix of two.

The pills are on the dresser, and the razor is in my hand.

Please forgive me, I just wanted to be free!
Is that a lot for my family and friends to see?
Disappointment is probably on your mind,

I know how one could get confused,
when their daughter says she’s fine.

When I am purging for perfection, hoping I’ll soon die.

Hugging that cold porcelain, puking up my problems.

I step onto the scale, and I cry at what I see,
For I have an addiction, that is slowly killing me.

My friends would try to help, but I told them I didn’t need it.

I kept things to myself, so I wouldn’t cry for help.

Help was never given, because I would sit and sin in silence,

People thought I was “fake” for the way I was feeling,

That’s where they were wrong, they thought I wouldn’t do it, well look now.

I’m dead, and my life ended with Suicide.

Flashing c o l o r s, and ongoing music it hits me in the face like a wave of static electricity.

The ecstacy strikes my taste buds like sugar and neuro toxins dancing on my tongue.

The smell is foul of puke and *****. Teens are raving,
while the music is playing. Grinding against one another like a mortar and pestle.

Watching an influenced man try to get with a vulnerable women.
Taking advantage of every drop off alcohol that goes into the women’s veins,

there is no blood left, just firewater.