For doctors to think that you have suicidal tendencies they often rely on extreme factors  such as suicidal attempts etc.
I am depressed,
Thoroughly depressed,
Some days I feel suicidal and I start thinking about it,
But just think,
You become happy (for a second) as you realize that the world won't have to **** you along anymore,
This is my state of suicidal depression.

The dim light that fell within the boundaries of my thoughts,
Illuminated my heart,
As you told me that it was going to be okay,
The light began to grow,
And ignited a flame,

As I began to crawl out of the cave of my insecurities,
You held out your hand,
Giving me the strength to begin my long battle towards self confidence,

My motivation did not waver,
As your quiet patience has kindled the fire that pushes me on,
I have made progress,
Yet the journey is far from over,

I am still afraid of society's judgements,
But I'm beginning to stop pretending to be the person I want to be,
I am tolerating myself and my real image,

This is a project that I had to do at school, it's not a poem but I just wanted people to read it...


          A wise oak lazily wrestles with the wind disregarding its breathy efforts. The tree sits atop a hill looking over a dark golden field, overhead the oak lay the endless universe, while an aurora borealis streaks the earth with an endless luminescent light. The wise oak shimmers with streaks of purple, green, yellow, and red hues as they dance on its leaves. I walk toward the oak blanketed in darkness except for the colours that flow across me. As I walk through the field slowly awed by the living light that has bathed the dull world, I can’t help but touch the soft ripe wheat as it tickles my palm. When I reach the tree it sways softly in the wind, the leaves rustle trying to softly speak silent words of wisdom. I lie down in the cool soft grass and look up at the sky through the leafless patches of the tree, I can see the stars that paint the blackness of the universe and the aurora borealis as it brings the sky to life. I stare for a while and I feel as if I stay long enough the tree will speak to me with great words of wisdom.

She showers me in gifts and stories,
My dad sits alone,
My dad told me that it's good to cry sometimes,
My mom tells me to stop feeling sorry for myself,

I'll cry,
Not for myself but for the war that has begun,
My mothers army includes the guns of exaggeration and gifts,

My dad brings forth solitude and destiny,
She'll fire her guns as my dad does nothing,
I sit in no mans land and ponder the future,
I silence the noises outside to concentrate on my... the thoughts in my head,

The propaganda that is set in front of my mother are tempting,
Along the signs lay threats of abandonment for treason,

But my father silently proclaims the relief of the words that my mother uses,
He preaches the schools and education,
My mother commercializes the  freedom of substantial proportions,

So as my mom fires her pamphlets of chocolate,
My dad telepathically opens university brochures in my head, in the middle of no mans land

I sit here wearing my perfection suit,
Crying for no understandable reason,
But society doesn't see this,
I cry behind my suit,
Inside my secret world,
In a deserted island,
With shores so high there is no rocket that could reach the land,
With an impenetrable castle,
Inside a small room in the centre,
I sit here hidden from society and I cry,

I cry scared of the judgements filled into my tiny ****** life,
I get up wondering why,
I go to bed staying awake digging a hole of thought to tomorrow,

"But you don't have depression" They convince me for another day,
I'll stay up tonight drawing blood with a pencil,
Writing down my imperfections on my skin,,
If my parents see they assume I'm just copying the rest of society,

So I try to wear my perfection suit,
I'm finding it hard when thoughts are everywhere,
Even with the loudest of music doesn't work anymore,

Bridges scare me now every time I step on one my gears in my head start spinning,
I throw up over the railings unable to hold my emotions in,
I run home as my depression grows and begins tearing my perfection suit apart,
All of those people staring at me,
Judging me and my imperfections,

I run across the street hoping,
Empty,
I run on faster getting rid of the joy of ending it all today,
I run into my house and up to my room,
Alone,

The doctor hands me pills,
I take the bottle and as I leave I place it back on the counter,
So mush me with drugs, therapy, yoga, dance, you can't make my disease go away,
It has infected me,
I am stained with thoughts that will never go away,
So to whom ever tries to "minimize" depression,
Leave them be you only make them think deeper every time you say a word.

The end is nearing my friend,
When the end comes do not be alarmed,
I will embrace it with open arms,
If it so wishes me to do so,

I won't resist it's powers,
Nor can I resist it's powers,
When the end comes I won't tell anyone,
Because it is the end of my story,

So what is there to tell if it's the end,
Nothing,
Yet there was no reason for a beginning,
When my life had no beginning in the first place,

So brother,
So sister,
I'll leave you to tell my story when the end comes,

When the end comes for me,
Hopefully the living will forgive me.

This is a story of an old church pianist who owned a church after it closed and lived in it. He has just been told that his house is being destroyed due to its age, I am only showing you a small part of it because it's my favourite part of the story...


I stood there looking around the home that I lived in, I worked in, and played my very best and worst in this place. As I walked down the aisle memories started flooding in, I remembered watching my beautiful wife walk down the aisle in her wedding dress holding onto her fathers hand, she was just so beautiful.
20 years later she passed away of a heart attack. I remember it so vividly like it was just yesterday; it was in the middle of August and we were sitting at the café. She ordered a frappé with skim milk, and then it all went wrong. She dropped her coffee onto the cobblestone floor as she grabbed at her chest thinking that she could tear her heart out. I knew something was wrong so I took her to the hospital. I stayed there for hours as the doctors tried to keep her heart going, when they finally came out their faces were grim.
So she went down that same aisle her father holding her hand one last time in the church that she had once walked through so proudly before, but she always so beautiful.
So as I walked down that aisle I started to cry as I trudged forward.

Today I went wedding dress shopping,
I know bad luck,
But I don't care,
It was really fun,

My bride tried on dresses,
The most expensive,
$100,000
I secretly tried one on,

I couldn't do up the back zipper,
It got stuck,
Then I ******* get out of the dress,

So my bride being as snart as she said she loved the dress,
And we walked out of the store with the dress still on me,
I eventually got out ,
And she's still going to wear it.

Hopefully I will graduate from high school,
Hopefully I will go to college,
Hopefully I will go to university,
Hopefully I will go into phycology,
Hopefully I will have a girlfriend,
Hopefully I might get married,
Hopefully I might have kids,
Hopefully I can stop drinking,
Hopefully I can get my kids back,
Hopefully I can get my wife back,
Hopefully I can get her for what she's done,
Hopefully, Hopefully,
Hopefully I can get out of jail,
Hopefully my kids can forgive me,
Hopefully I haven't missed out to much,
Hopefully I can make some money,
Hopefully I can support myself,
Hopefully I can quit drinking,
Hopefully I can stop drinking,
Hopefully I can end my drinking,
What is hope?

I'm told I won't understand,
I'm told to go away,
I'm told to leave,
I do without complaint,
I love them for who they are,
I know they do too,
But tell me to go away,
Tell me I won't understand,
Tell me to leave,
You will witness the consequences,
You will suffer the emotional pain that I do,
I will leave,
I will understand,
I promise you this.

I look into her eyes,
Now is the perfect time,
Underneath the stars blanketed by an oak tree,
Christmas lights covered in Japenese lantern shades hang from the branches,

They bring out the sparkle out in her eyes,
I look at her eating crackers,
I love her freckles and how they describe her personality,

I pull out my guitar and play a tune,
As I strum my song,
Our song,
I am certain I know what I am doing,

After I stare at her and her I,
I decide,
I put my guitar down gently on the grass,
I get out of my sitting position,
And go on one knee in front of her,

"Pardis Sarin, I realize that it's only been 3 months, but I have never in my entire life felt so certain of this choice  that I am about to make, and I love you so much and I want to be with you forever."
She begins to realize what I am doing,
She starts tearing up,
Her eyes sparkle even more intensely,
"Now that the cheesy corny parts over,
I have one single question to ask you."
.............
I pause the question,
I pull out the box,
"Will you Pardis Sarin,
be my apartment buddy?"
She is shocked,
I open the box and pull out a ring,
"Okay lets do this again...
Will you marry me Pardis Sarin?"
She starts crying uncontrollably,
"Did I do something wrong?"
I get concerned, I get up and hug her,
"Yes,"
I barely hear the word through the sobbing and the layer of clothes her face is stuffed into,
"To which one?"
"Both you idiot,"
We kiss under the oak tree as the stars twinkle.

In society we consume approximately
28,980,000 tons of food a year. Yet we waste 9,920,801,798 tons of food a year. We complain on how other children in other countries can't get enough food, yet we can barely afford to feed our own. In a an average sized household in the U.S. Approximately only 80% of the food purchased is actually consumed. We complain about rising food prices, what if we stopped throwing so much food away, or at least lower the production of food we make. Still why do we throw away so much food?
Have you ever noticed when you go downtown the amount of fast food restaurants, bars, pubs, restaurants in general, diners, food trucks, they all have a commercial kitchen that carry food. In each building are approximately 3-7 commercial kitchens  in every building. Then multiply that by the number of buildings...

That is a lot of food consumed, and only a third of the food in a commercial kitchen is actually consumed and not thrown away.  

Yet we go on with our daily lives unconscious, uncaring, with our busy lives to notice the outside world and its problems, but we are still unconscious, uncaring and to busy with our daily lives to even pay attention to what happened in our own neighbourhood. So next time you go out to eat pay attention to the amount of food you leave on your plate.

Cold,
Hungry, Afraid of the other children stealing my lone possession,
My blanket,
My only protection from the bitter nights,

Another sleepless night,
Another oat in my empty stomach,
A man and woman walk in with a plate of food,
They search for a child to love,

I run with my weak legs towards them,
I face the children yelling,
“NO, NO” Scared of the children changing the adult’s minds,

I stop the other children from stealing my only hope, belief, future.
They laugh, thinking I’m cute,
The nuns take me out of the room away from the other children,

I sit with the adults in a white strange room,
All of my efforts of defense pay off as I am given the plate of food,
I have never tasted anything so warm, filling, replenishing,

They watch me shovel the food,
Thinking, pondering, whispering to one another,
They nod, smile at me
I never went back to that filthy room with the children,

I'm forever scared of you,
I can't live with you,
I suffocate on my own breath as you approach,
I hang out with walls as you enter the room,
My only friend is the floor of which I stare at continuously,
I am the man of anyone but myself,
My wrists are friends with the sharps,
My mind continues to imagine what you think of me,
I am tormented by your ever impeding presence,
You never go away even in the darkest and most quiet corners of my mind,
There you are,
I am afraid of you society,

They say it takes years to establish a true friendship,
I have found a true friend,
Or at least I thought I had,

Once they see the invisible man,
Your true nature,
They will abandon you,
Their friendship with you,
Their trust in yopenness,
It will all disappear into the dust,

My friends have discovered the monster that is my cancer,
I have shared everything with them,
Then you have nothing left to share,

Now I am all but a memory,
A regret in the circle of friends.

"I can't hear you." They say to me,
"Why can't you speak up?" They ask me,
Because I feel small and if I speak big  it makes things worse,
"Why, Why, Why!" I ask myself every time I say something.

I go to work and I have had a good day so far, I’m on the bus,
Then it happens,
I think to myself,
        -Hopefully work will be the same, I have a lot of stuff to do. I hope I’m  going to make it on time.

I know I will because I knew I would get anxiety from not being on time,
        -I’m going to be late and my boss is going to hate me.

My breathing starts to become shallow,
My stomach starts to clench,
       -I wonder if my boss thinks I’m a failure in his eyes?

My stomach begins to hurt, Yet I continue to think deeper,
       -I hope that my boss won’t fire me as soon as he finds someone better.

I smoke cigarettes to get my mind to fuzz,
       -I wonder if he hates me?

The pain from my stomach becomes excruciating,
      -I think my coworkers think I’m slow.

I try to hide the pain to keep some pride,
      -Why are all the people on the bus sitting at the front, am I scaring them?

My breathing becomes very shallow and I forget to breath,
       -I need to get all of my assignments done soon.

I become angry at myself and I get off the bus,
      -This isn’t my stop, I’m going to late.

My hands are shaking as I am bent over in pain trying to light my cigarette,

One puff,
      -I’m going to be late

Two puffs,
      -I’m going to be late

Three puffs,
      -I’m going to be late

Four puffs,
      Relief

To whom I call my brother,
To whom I call my sister,
To whom I call my mother,
To whom I call my father,

To whom I call my family,
To whom I call myself,
To whom shall I call when there is no one left?

Shall I call the earth and plea for assistance,
Shall I call to the universe when the earth replies no more,
Or shall I call to a god to help me.

Society is but a continuous cycle we are born, we live our lives, born others, raise them, and then we die. It happens repeatedly over and over again in an unending predictable cycle. But sometimes this predictable cycle is broken an earthquake happens and the pattern is broken in the affected area. But then in a few years it just goes back to the unending cycle.
See society does not function without a repeatable pattern that's just how we work. When you learn something new like riding a bike a step out of the pattern, but eventually you start going on it more and more then it becomes a pattern. But why continue in this pattern. Is it as easy as asking for something different at a restaurant. Wrong after you do that once then you'll try it again and then you'll try it another time, eventually it becomes a full blown pattern.

I have a lion tattoo roaring across my back,
You only see it when I take my shirt off,
You only see the leadership,
The bravery,
The courage,
The loyalty,
The wiseness,
The power of this lion when I take off my shirt,
Or when I'm not around anyone who can see my real tattoo imbedded on my forehead.

When I die I want to have one of those really sad funerals,
I heard and seen many different burials,
I want a casket,
I want people to dress in suits that are black,
Anyone who doesn't have one,
Buy one for them,
I want everyone here for my funeral,
I want the whole city to come and see,
I want the whole country to come and see,
I want the whole world to come and see,
But at my funeral it will be just me,
Dead,
Alone,

We have rights as human beings living within our borders. We are taught never to get in trouble with the law in another country. The reason, many countries have corrupt governments, they appeal to simple bribes and convict the innocent falsely. In some countries they do not even control their country but rather by gangs who have "deals" with their government not to interfere with international affairs. If the international community saw this "friendship" would make the government look weak, corrupt and not able to control its people.

We also have people hired by these governments to inflict these laws, yet there are many cases of a police officer who used his privileges unjustly because the person thought that they would never be arrested because they were above the law. They take their status and use it as an advantage , they ****, they assault, they arrest, just because of ***, financial status, religion, and race. When they are prosecuted their sentence is reduced due to the fact that they are fellow officers who would do the same for them.

Even if we have a legal system that is fair and just, we might think that the convicted will be prosecuted fairly, and the innocent and victims cared for. Yet there are so many gaps in our legal system that sometimes the guilty run free and the innocent convicted wrongly.

How will our government ensure that society is safe from the dangerous, and the innocent protected? How will the government insure that people who have been convicted can become part of society again and not be a threat? How can the government insure that that phycological distressed people don't get guns? How can they do this and still have the ability to let people use guns?

You see me,
You hear me,
You feel me,
Yet you do not understand me,

I am not perfect,
My flaws are scars upon my face,
I have tried to face my demons,
But they drown me in my fears,

I am fighting against the tide with pills and distractions,
Yet the waves rise ten feet high,
I have lost my own battles before,

But not like this,
There is nothing to silence the voices,
That only I hear,
The doubts and fears have drained me of my life,

FEARS is who I am now,
He is me,
And I am him,
FAERS

I cry,
Cry for relief,
Yet it never comes,
Anxiety plays me like a puppet,

It’s strings are the fears that I fear,
The man controlling me is no one,
I am cutting the strings slowly,
But I fear many things.

Flattery will not be tolerated,
I use what I have for what I need,
I do not care for the publishing ideas,
Shame on you for invading my world,
My freedom to write carelessly,
I cry at the effort to reread my works,
Unable to deter the image of pain that stains each of my poems,
So prospect me these ideas,
And I will crawl into a tiny hole in the world and never come back,
Bedazzle me with compliments,
Shower me with offers,
Pour out the praise,
Show me the door.

People ask me what it feels to have depression,
I answer the question, "This question is not your real question, ask me the real question."
People ask me what is depression, to a depressed person,
"It's like a drug that feels so good, but can **** you at any time."
People ask me how I cope with this depression,
"Take more of it, just like tylenol"

Don't go out,
Don't look at him,
They'll judge you,
Why do they look funny,
I think I should run,
Did I leave my car running,
I see tons of colours,
I feel like I could fly off this bridge,
I hope I do't die,
O well,
Flapping my pretty wings,
I can see the blurry ground,
Why is the ground speeding,
I should call the cops on it,

Just leave me alone,
Let my immature spending go on,
Just ***** off,
I can handle my own immaturity,
You try to help me,
But I just want to left alone,
In my little dark corner of the world,

I try to be better than I am,
I try to be who you want me to be,
I try to be kind,
I try to be loyal,
I try to be a friend,
Yet you saw through what I built and now you hate what you have seen,
I try to fix it,
I try to tell you that I can change,
I try so hard to hold on to you,
But you have seen me,
You have made your decision,
My disability has filled you with distain,
You see a monster and only the monster,
I try to bring up the past,
I try to erase your vision of me,
I try so hard to be with someone “normal”,
But you have made your decision,
You ignore my calls,
You avoid me,
You have my brother tell me why you don’t want to see me,
You never had the ***** to tell it to my face,
I try so hard to be friendly,
I try so hard to be kind,
I try so hard to be outgoing,
I try so hard to be better everyday,
I try so hard to be liked,
I try and in the long run I always and will always end up lonely and hurt,

I am alone,
My friends are the letters in this poem,
I tell them my sorrows and they repeat every word I say,
Friends are hard to come by these days,
We are all stuck,
Not me,
Words are my friends,
Words from others are my enemy,
The silence of the words I repeat in my head slowly grows,
I am truly alone with my friends,
Even words leave me in the end of every poem,

I stand here an imperfect plate,
Unlike everyone else I have a chip,
It's permanent and it won't go away,
The other plates don't include me from activities like running over the moon,
When someone else has a chip it's no big deal,
But when they see me they run in terror.

How can I begin to describe her,
The way she smiles is stupidly infectious,
Which always follows with her laugh,
That is intoxicating,
Her hair smells like lilies in the spring right after the morning dew,
Her attitude is of a doe,
She is shy but is curious about everything,
She is easygoing but can't sit still for long,
She likes cars especially Bentley's,
Her style is always different,
She never changes but I feel I am always meeting someone new that's still her,
When I tell her one of my stupid jokes she always laughs,
I think it's because she feels sorry for me,
But I don't care as long as I see her laugh and her eyes sparkle.

I'm on my hands and knees,
Blood everywhere,
I being the one that is bleeding,
I try to get up,

But my thoughts return the blows,
This time my ears start to bleed,
I am losing quickly,
I start seeing stars,

I just lye there,
My mind goes for another strike at me,
NO!!!
I scream shooting up,

Scattering my minds blow,
I grab my thoughts and tear them apart,
My weapon,
The thought of my family and their dispair.

I get up out of my bed,
I check myself in the mirror,
Nothing,
I walk out of my room,

I have no scars to show the fight of..... for my life.

To be honest,
What is it,
We construct promises,
Built solely on hope and lies,
Just to watch it fall...

Is this what honesty is,
Polite lies,
Created for the ease of every person,

Or to hide intentions,
Hidden behind a vail of promises,
Greed, power, fear, personal gain,

I pray I’m an honest man,
I hope that my Lies have not hurt,
I believe that  I did it to help,
I didn’t mean it to hurt someone,

Politicians can easily be blamed,
We are clean,
While everyone else is not,
No one and everyone is to blame,

I ask,
Are you honest,
Or is that a lie,
What is honesty then,

We shared everything ,
We told lies together,
Stood by each other's side,
Sometimes against us,
We understood each other without a word spoken,
We showed love for one another by being around each other,
We always took interest in others hobbies what ever it was,
We always followed each other even if it meant trouble or pain,
We were the inseparable two stooges,
We understood how each other felt,
When one needed help,
Help was less than a feeling away,
We stood up for each other,
Or made fun of them,
We laugh together,
Never shed a tear together,
We always argued always knowing the other was right,
We wrestled when ever,
Broke lots of things together,
Hung out with the same people,
Never wanted to be seen together,
But still missed each other's presence,
We say 'I love you' with '*******',

So ******* bro and I love you.

"Mommy,Daddy!" I scream my parents come rushing in,
"There's a monster under my bed!"
My parents role their eyes,
"I swear it's here, just look!" I say
"There's no such thing as monsters." My parents say,
"Just look please!"
""Fine" my dad looks under the bed and says
"Come look, see there are no monsters."
I look under my bed and see a mirror and the monster looking at me,
My dad screams as he looks in the mirror I am the monster that sleeps under my bed.

I just filled out a paper two weeks ago,
One question was,
"Are you depressed,"
If yes , are you suicidal,"
I wrote yes to both,
Yesterday I got a letter back,
They said that they were not able to cover me,
Their reason,
I was a liability to commit suicide,
So I never got what I wanted.

I found this girl,
Her name is Pardis,
Every time I say it I think of the Tardis,
But before that I just see her beautiful smile drifting casually across her face,
Her eyes shine with ideas,
She is shy,
When she talks the earth shakes,
But when she sings the earth stops to hear,
She floats around the world with an ever present glee,
She fascinates me in every way possible.

I talk to a girl,
She's beautiful,
We hangout for a while,
I ask if she wants to go out,

She stares at me,
I stare into her dazzling eyes trying to get a message,
She gets up and walks away...

Why do I try

So America this is the choice you have made,
It's time about time you show the world who you really are,
Instead of making the news for being immature in your riots,
Make the world see the true face of the United States of America,
The one that got its independence on its own,
The ones who would help other peoples problems first before their own,
The ones who end the fights,
Not start them...

So grow up people,
You are the people of the United States of America,
It's time that you accept your decisions,
Rather than kicking and screaming uselessly,
Be proud of what ever,
Be responsible,
Be mature,
Be the America that the rest of the world respects,
Be the pride that the world bows down too,
Be the American dream,
If you don't like someone,
You don't try to kick and scream hoping they will go away,
You talk it over,
Accept your choices,

I go to school,
I am in grade 12,
I go to an idiot school,
People who have "damage,"
I know that's mean,
But that is how damaged I am,
I don't really care though,
I don't really care if you do,
Judge me,
Scrutinize me I don't care,
At least I'm going to school and learning something,
While you sit here and read my poem getting nowhere.

My thoughts begin to wander,
I begin to shake uncontrollably,
I'm terrified of my thoughts,
The images that I think about,

The music,
I turn it off,
It's stopped working,
The relief isn't there anymore,

Fear begins to set in,
As I grasp onto to the last hold of control,
I become the enemy as my body just wants to let go,
To float in a world of carelessness,

I sit down and just let my thoughts consume me,
My body shakes and I let it,
Μy mind shows the facts of death,
My death,

I'll think of the places where the blood will drip out if I were to hang upside down,
I'll imagine someone would see the pool of blood on the floor and I would be forgiven,

I'll imagine that I'm watching a baby no more then a few weeks old,
Being murdered in the hands of the doctor and priest baptizing the drowned child,
And I'll laugh in a courtroom,
As the jury and judge stare in disbelief and horror as the conviction is read in their eyes,

The judgement is of all society,
My mind begins to collapse under the stares and verdict,
Guilty,

I'll think about how they'll condemn me to death,
Will it be swift,
Or will I suffer to be forgiven,
I have gone to deep,
I've become interested and I begin to want to go farther in my thoughts,

As I fall through the trapdoor of thought ,
I attempt to to grab onto anything,
But the walls I fall with are bare,
This hole is endless,

But I've reached the end early.

Thank you to all my lovely followers, you guys have liked (most) of the **** I write so thanks a lot, so far I've written 105 (not including this one) poems and such... Anyway I am going to be going back to my creative thinking block once again.

I want to be a cook,
Not like those ones who follow recipes,
But a culinary artist,
I want to feed a persons eyes full,
With colours,
And designs that would fill their hungry eyes,


Yet I can't graduate high school,
I lack motivation,
I crack under pressure,
I'm passive aggressive,
What can I possibly be if I lack the skills to my dreams

I sit with my family,
Except for one,
We plan the future,
Even though it's 3 am

We all can't sleep,
We all won't sleep,
So we have coffees and chat,
Avoiding the obvious question,

Why,
We talk about everything but,
The knot in my throat grows as I see the family look defeated,

The future changes here,
But we're to distracted to talk,
I open my mouth,
Air escapes,

I say nothing and we sit around,
They begin to leave in silence,
Their actions prophesies to the future,
Alone here left to support the victim,
Alone in the future left to support them all,

I walk around aimlessly,
Thinking,
"What have I done"
I wonder about,
"What am I now"
As I button my pants up,
"What will I say"
As I look at her,
"I hope she forgives me"
I try to clean up the blood,
"O dear god "
I'm crying as there's a knock at the door,
"Who is it"
I asked in rapid short breaths,
"It's the police, now open up"
I look around and see my escape,
"If you don't unlock this door we'll come in by force"
I run towards the window at full speed,
"1"
I trip over the body,
"2"
Ugh like this day can't get any worse,
"3"
I get back up and run towards the window,
"4"
Crash,
"5"
I'm floating as the railing spins me tearing off limbs every stairwell I hit,
"I think he's jumped sir"
Splat,
At least I won't have to see  her face again,
She smacks me as she stands across from me,
"You  look pretty dead there old lady"
Damb it I still can't get rid of her.

We judge, we convict, we abolish, we abuse, we scrutinize, we ****, and we ****.

Until we think that we have completely eradicated it from the infected. But let history prove itself worthy, we are still a bunch of selfish children who want everything perfect, and everything that does not qualify as perfect in our world must die.

We think that because of history being the way it is we are not aloud to explore different "options" because it's against this thing that controls our lives called "religion".
We were never told that we actually had the option of not following that religion.

But people still did it, but in secret, so they made laws and said it was for the best of the community and themselves. If found out they were sent to an asylum where they were ***** until they felt nothing else after that. They were then maybe lucky to be released, most who actually got out alive without dying from the ****, committed suicide within the month.

People think that we have fixed our issues around this situation of freedom of sexuality. Yet people still can't accept this because this thing called "religion" clouds their minds. These disputes have caused the destruction of families, and once almost divided a whole country.
And all of this just to have the freedom to express who you want to marry, who you want to be, or what you want to have.

You will call everyday,
You will come to the house everyday when your not working,
You will not have friends over at your apartment,
Especially on a school night,
DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME!

yes

You are so irresponsible,
I should have you come back to the house and live with your mommy, would you like that?

no

I would make your life hell wouldn't I?

no

As I speak to my mother on the phone my pride in being independent has been torn away from me, like a **** victims clothes,

Smack, jab, punch,
I hit the ground blood on the floor I get back up,
Kick, jab, punch,
I hit the ground teeth on the floor I get back up,
Knee, jab, punch,
I hit the ground I see a bone sticking out I get back up,
Elbow, jab, punch,
I hit the ground and my arms twisted I get back up,
Stab, jab, punch,
I hit the ground and lye there and I don't get back up,
Lift, carry, off,