Flowers are pretty when they bloom,
When they incubate their petals they look like blunt spears,
They fear losing their dear children,
When they die so does the plant,
Leaving a plot of where life used to exist,
Their unborn children sprout and float through the air,
Until they find a friend to attach to,
They hold on and grow with their new found friend,
As they grow their flower suffocates its friend,
Until only the flower is left.

Why do you title me,
Why do I have to wear a label on my forehead,
Why does it describe my issues,
Why do people always look at it,
I don't have a picture on this website because you would see my label,
They treat me different because they see my label,
I am ashamed for carrying my label,
So I wear a mask so they can't see my label,
So you can't see my title,
My judgment,
My depression,
My pain,
My sorrow,
My self pity,
My death

***** life and all its pain,
I try to grasp life by its mane,
I want to be lane on a slab,
Just don't tell my mother Jane,

I look in the mirror and see happiness drain,
As if all the effort I put into it is was vain,

I cry as I remember why I crane my neck,
I look at the train as it is in front of me.

Solum faces,
Sold out concerts,
A pack of 6 cases,
I look at her and she flirts,
I tie up my laces,
He looks around and picks up the dirts,
I try to look for traces,
I put on some shirts,
I think of all the places,
That they could be

Depression is like my drug,
I indulge myself in it as I try to forget about my hopeless reality.
I am happy enough with myself to survive another day,
Maybe a week.
I love my family and their efforts,
Nut I don't understand why they keep on trying why they don't just give up,
I am no use to them all I cause is grief and war.
I do not want pity for I receive it from myself.

We build the society of the imperfect finally perfected,
The immortal spirited body,
A kiss of life,
Follow these 10 laws or be punished by discrimination in the church,
Make sure to spread the word to the hopeless and imperfect,
Give money,
But not to much to become imperfect,
Be humble in your greed,
Eat the bread that you sow for yourself,
Drink the wine mixed with water,
Don't forget to pretend that it's holy,
When the man speaks make sure to listen,
He'll instruct you about the revolution.

Depression kills,
Depression fills my mind like torture,
Thrills and trills do not woe me,
For depression kills and fills my mind like torture.

Have you ever questioned things,
Have you ever wondered  how a plane can fly?
You already know how the science works,
But still it still awes you,

Have you ever wondered how big our planet really is,
Yes we know it has some 7 billion people,
And is some millions of kilometres wide,
That's just the thing 7,000,000,000 people live on this planet we call earth yet we see this number as 7.
We crawl on this earth claiming our tiny few bits of property building our lives upon it and growing others to pass on our stories,
We pay so little attention to our world and of what we do is contorted and twisted to appease the audiences,
So explore the world,
Get out of your tiny little worlds,
Create something that is unthought of,
Imagine the possibilities,
Be the person you want to be,
Love who you love and not who tells you to love them,

The flame flickers,
I think about it harder,
O the ideas,
The flame is so bright,
It is not evil,
I just sparked an idea,
And now you can see the flame in my eyes.

There was a man,
No one payed heed too,
They would walk by unknowing, uncaring,
They walked by him everyday,
Until they saw him stand on a stage,
They heard him talk,
They listened to what he said and passed it on,
Soon the man was famous in the world,
Soon the man was voted,
Soon this man would become the president,
Soon the man would change the world.

Hope shall fuel me,
Hope shall fool me,
Hope shall create an image of the possibilities,
Hope is the denial of fact,
The disbelief towards the inevitable truth.

Why do we live?
Why do we die?
Why do we strive to live a lie?
We try to buy,
We try to fly,
We try to cry,
Then we learn to lie...

I am done,
I give up,
I hate your words,
I hate your looks,
Mocking me every time you smile,
I hate when you talk to me,
I'd rather hear nothing than yours,
I'll probably regret saying that soon enough,
But not now.

Feelings are nothing then a human trait,
We all have it this is just fate,
But do you know what I truly hate,
Is the way we debate about it,

We are human but we retaliate in the fact that we all relate to one another,

Families deny and disassociate themselves from their society all over human emotions,
So as we debate our fate with "God" we ignore or at least to pretend that human feeling is just a feeling.

I want to be anywhere but here,
I have accumulated a lot of fear,
Here in this unforgiving world,
You won't ever see me shed a tear when I leave,

You'll hear a giant sigh of relief,
I'll watch you from above,
Rambling about how you regret what you've done,

O dear! You'll say in fear of me coming back,
Don't worry I won't come back to sneer at you,

People who called me a quire will forget,
But I'll steer them to remember me,
So in my final words I'll say,

"All who fear,
All who shed a tear,
All who would love to be freer,
All who don't sneer,
All who seek sheer power,
You will be remembered by me."

I am so cold,
In this never forgiving earth,
Hopelessly grasping at strings that dangle from the cliff of life,
I am cold up here,
The sun beats down on me relentlessly,
But I am still cold,
I am asked to stand up straight and be happy as I dangle,
I am scrutinized,
I slip a little,
My hands start to shake from the chill of on setting depression,
I try to mask it by telling myself happy things,
My hands still slipping faster,
As I reach the end of the strings I lose hope,
I feel like I am floating,
I am so happy,
But I am still so, so, so cold.

****** me,
****** me,
Relive me of my pain,
Strangle me until I go limp,
Stab me until I bleed out,
Burn me and spit upon me as I indulge in the relief of my pain.

Spit in my face and laugh at the shame of society.
I am but a fantasy placed in the world for the use of anyone.
I am a tool for you to use for whatever, I am a thing that contributes for nothing that everybody hates.

I have skin,
Very thin skin now,
I had thick skin back then,
Before the relentless Gods burned off my layers,
Now they poke at my thin layer,
Piercing a small bit so that I mend it,
They do it again and again taunting me with this never ending game,
But it's not a game in their eyes,
They see it as them helping me.

Art is for thy to do,
It is for thy to see,
I do not hear the coos and boos of critics with their opinions,
I hear but the praise,
The ideas of others whom see the way I see.

Who dares wake me from my pitiful dreamless sleep,
You wake me just to ask me if I'm "okay",
You skip in my room gallivanting while I toss and turn pondering the meaning of my life,
"GET OUT OF MY ROOM!" I yell, realizing there's no one else but me,
So I continue to toss and turn and you start to laugh,

I start talking aloud to myself asking you why your doing this to me,
I begin to mumble to myself about possible answers,

My so called loving "son" took me to a specialized doctor to check my mental state,
I know that even if my son told me in a very childish tone,

The doctor was just here to ask me some special question and if I answered all of them we would go out for lunch,

I gave him the finger and still answered all the questions "truthfully",
I didn't want the doctor to get off that easily,
We didn't go out for lunch later,

Your just tormenting me you realize every time I think you exist the closer I get to becoming insane,

So you laugh on,
Prance on around my room,
Beconing me to drive myself to look at nothing.

I lye here in bed,
Thinking about you,
I close my eyes and there you are,
Smiling the way you do,
Yet already I can see the detail painted in my mind slowly starting to fade,
Memories of our time appear more distant ,
The things we did aren't so embossed on me,
I sit here crying as I think of you,
Unable to sleep,
I turn over and see your shimmering  outline of your face,
I see you,
You haven't left me,
Yet if I look to hard you may not stay,
So as I stare at you I feel comfort and I fall asleep.

The possibilities are endless,
Unless your me,
I lye here alone in this empty cold room of depression,
I think I have a chance in hell to make something out of myself,
Maybe a *******, no that's setting my goals to high,
Maybe if I hope...
Why?

Time has a tendency to feel like forever and pass by in a second,
13 years have passed since I left last,
Standing in the doorway one last time,
I reminisce as I sit on the floor of my empty room,
Small details I remembered just a few moments ago have begun to blur,

I smile as I look at the pencil marks on the door increasing in height as the years past,
I promised that I wouldn’t cry,
This house,
No; this home,
Helped mold me into the person I am,

The outlines of our hands and the hands of those before us line the crawl space walls,
Marking our place in the homes history,
A spot has been left for the next hands,
So that they to can add to the history,

The family portraits that line the hallways,
Now bare empty holes,
The photos packed away,
Just a memory of what once was,

The kitchen once filled with aromas,
Smells of nothing now,
Thirteen Christmas dinners prepared,
All wiped away with a new coat of paint,

This home I have loved,
And was filled with love has moved away,
So must I,
I say goodbye and thank you,

I see her,
She's so beautiful,
She looks at me,
I look at her,
She walks on,
I walk on,
Let it go,
I tell myself
She doesn't want you.

I don't want praise,
I don't want pity,
I don't want money,
I don't want shame,
I don't want victory,
I don't want to be accepted,
I just want to be appropriated.

I may not be fat,
But some days I pity those who are,
Eating habits,
Bad exercise,
I don't judge them for that,
I just wish that they started out better,

What you did for me was awesome,
You adopted me,
Took me into your home
Not even for a little while,
But for 16 years,
What you do for me now,
I still can't fathom,
I **** at appreciating your efforts,
What you do to me,
I can't forget,
I am hurt,
I am depressed,
But am too ashamed to say anything because it doesn't really matter because it's better than being on a street alone in Ukraine.

There's someone in my bed,
They look familiar,
She's sleeping,
I look at her,
I close the door and walk downstairs,
I sit at the couch,
There are three men sitting around the couch,
I walk to the kitchen and see a woman cooking something,
They are all strangers,
No, wait!
I am the stranger in my home.

Dreams,
Dreams,
Dreams,
My escape,
My hero,
My dreams are the dreams that I dream when I sleep, when I want to escape from reality,
I dream of having dreams in my dreams I am just a man who dreams of being someone so powerful,
I wake up from my dreams a lot,
I am awoken by my mothers words

"Is it not liberty to give every man the right to choose,"
"I suppose so."
"Then let him!"
"But that would be preposterous"
"You said yourself that every man should be given liberty, did you not?"
"But he doesn't count!"
"And why is that?"
"He couldn't possibly be human?"
"But he is, just as much as you are."
"He's a monster."
"He is your son!"
"I don't think so."
"Why am I not your son, is it because I am not perfect, is it because I always fail, is it because I never learn, is it because I have problems, is it because I am not like everybody else? Do I not deserve the liberty to choose who I want to be? Or do you think that I will mess up on that too?"

Life is a passion,
An expression of what we are,
What we humans are,
We live,
We laugh,
We love,
We cry,
We fly,
We lie,
We hear,
We see,
We drive,
We ride,
We glide,
Etc...
But the final thing we humans are afraid of but are the best at,
We die,
You die,
I die,
The fact is inevitable.

I have vanity,
It's the only thing that masks me,
It's the only thing that protects me,
It's the only thing that disguises me from societies judgement,
It's the only thing that my mom can't take away,
It's the only thing that I can accumulate,
It's the only thing that I can create and call it my own,
I have vanity,
It's the only thing that you can't take,

I have a place I call my own,
I enter it every time I step out the door,
I create an image of my fantasy in the reality,
I am a proud outspoken person where you can't see what I have,
I am just like everybody else,
I have a label that defines me as normal and not as something else,
I am so happy when I visit this place,
I leave every time I go home,
To face the reality that defines me that makes me leave my world.

Why do I try to make people happy?
Why do I try to get my mother to appreciate my efforts?
Why do I try to care for what other people feel?
Why do I try to tell myself that I'm happy?
Why do I try to act like I am a proud person?
Why do I try anything?
Why do I try to live another day?
Why do I try to survive for the benefit of others?
Why?
Why?
Why?
Why?
Because I care...

I don't have a mirror,
I don't look at them,
I don't go out,
I don't look at my reflection in the glass of a shop,
I don't look at my phone when it's off,
I don't take pictures,
I have friends,
I have two friends...
I have one friend,
I have teddy bears,
I have one and he's 16 years old,
I am not alone,
I am not alone if there was someone there,
I don't look into mirrors in fear of looking at me.

Why do I talk to you,
Why do I even know you,
I talk to you and you make a personality,
I look at you and you cover your eyes,
I walk with you,
Nothing,
I hate you,
There is no love,
I never did love you,

"**** yourself!"
"**** yourself!" the words say to me taunting me as they float above my head, I try to build a wall but they fly through it,
"Your useless!"
"Your useless!" they say as I am pecked,
"It's ******* basic!"
"It's ******* basic!"
The words they flap around me blurring my vision,
"It's something that a 9 year old would get!"
"It's something that a 9 year old would get!"
I start to cry, I falter but am not ready to fall yet,
"Your so ******* selfish, 'it's all about me!"
"Your so ******* selfish 'it's all about me!"
I fall to the ground and try to cover my ears, but they peck at my hands so that I hear them,
"I don't want to see you!"
"I don't want to see you!"
I start screaming, my ears are bleeding now,
"Don't expect to get my approval when your this ******* selfish!"
"Don't expect to get my approval when your this ******* selfish!"
I try to get up but they dive at me striking my efforts,
"What kind of son does this!"
"What kind of ******* son does this to their mother!"
I just lye there hopeless and I whisper a word, just one tiny word,

"me..."
I close my eyes and the words fly away.

I sit here wondering the meaning of life through the expression of religion,
I'm trying to define multiple things at once that are far more complex to just "define".
I like to do it,
It distracts me from reality,
As I sit here in this Eastern Catholic Church, mesmerized by the somber feel of tradition, the way the priest sways the incense to the sad slow rhythm of the singing choir. How every word is sang not said as it ruins the holy gift. Not many people come here anymore, to long for their busy lives. My favourite time to come is Good Friday, when you walk through the entrance this unexplainable amount of emotions hit you, you feel so sad you know why you feel sad, but yet you can't explain why, this "religious" feeling fills me and I am swept up by it. In this bath of emotions I wonder about other religions, what is their most somber time in their religious calendar. I want to explore them and feel the pain, humbleness, holiness, power, and agony that is so strongly expressed that even though I may not understand that religion I am captivated and stirred with emotions. That is feeling religion, but if I was to feel such emotion then I then would want to understand it. Thus further opening my eyes to the meaning of religion, or at least being able to grasp or better define the human explanation for religion.

First I will say,
To whom have you been beaten by,
To whom have have you seen them lie,
To how much have you seen them buy,
To whom do you see them tie,
To whom do you see them fly,
To whom have you seen high,
To whom have you seen dry,
For if you see them,
Tell them that they are forgiven

I feel like I am falling while I stand,
I feel like water seeping through dirt,
I feel like the ever dry desert,
I feel like a man without a world,
I feel like the dew that gets burnt, and

Seeing is believing,
Seek and you shall receive,
Be kind to one another,
Don't give up,
Be friendly and you will have friends,
Want and you shall have, is what they tell me,


What about if I don't want to see,
What about if I don't want to seek,
What about if I don't want to be kind,
What about if I want to give up,
What about if I don't want to have friends,
What about if I don't want something,
What about if I just want to be alone.

What is the point of life and everything in it, it you don't care anymore?
What is it?
Is it for the ***?
Is it for the love of life?
Is it to complete a cycle of life?
What is it?
Is it to have hope?
Is it to believe in something?
Is it to understand what something is?
What is it?
Is it just to be there?
Is it just to be here?
Is it just to be then?
Is it just to be now?
Is it just to be after?
Or is it just to die.

I hope people will like this poem,
I laugh at myself when I think of hope,
Every time I have hope I think nothing in the world could stop me,
I face my inevitable fact and face it with triumph,
I get destroyed by fact,
I just laugh at myself for thinking that I could deny fact and have hope,
I just let go of it,
Next week maybe I'll get it,
Probably won't and then I'll be filled with a little more hope that the inevitable fact is not inevitable.

I am depressed,
That I know for sure,
That's at least one thing I know,
All other things I don't,
But don't take my word for it,
Just talk to my mother and she'll tell you,

To be is to die,
To die is to understand,
But only to the extent of what we the living understand.

What is love,
I am told everyday by my mom that I shall never understand it,
I believe her,
I "love" her if I knew what it meant,
I would tell her everyday,
If I knew what it meant,
I am selfish is what I am told,
Then that is what I am,
I am told that if I can't learn to be part of a community then I will never get married,
I believe them,
I believe that if I was to date someone,
They would be afraid of the monster that is me,
That is what I think and not what I am told,