Thomas O'Reilly was not a fool,
Nor was he depressed or teased at school.
In fact, he was nobody, a no one at all,
Which is why he thought it nice to take a large fall...

So they'd know who he was, a real person now,
One who could choose how he left his mark on the town.
He thought death romantic and noble and right,
He thought it each day, morning, noon, and night.

What Thomas O'Reilly didn't know was, however,
When you're dead, you don't know if you were thought clever
Or nice or smart or worthy of greatness;
All you know is your version of your own self-hateness.

The greatness is in you, hiding somewhere,
It has a small voice, because like you, it is scared.
But if you find it's location, it is sure to come out,
Then loving it will make it scream and shout.

So don't be like Thomas, and live for today;
Find out what it is that makes you okay,
Try something, everything, anything new,
There's a greatness in everyone, yes, EVEN YOU!

I don't know if you know how tired I am
Tired of putting on the face of someone who's
Not crazy
Not terrified
Not overwhelmed
By the waves crashing overhead

My ears are ringing from how deep below the surface I am
My lungs are burning from holding my breath every moment
My tongue has teeth marks in it
My heart beats doggedly against its scars

And all the while, everyone stares at my drowning; tells me to stop struggling and just swim, ******!
But they've forgotten that I never finished swim lessons from all the times I broke my arm growing up.
They've forgotten, but me? I remember.

Life is an ocean,
Leading nowhere but to some vast horizon
No one can touch.
And all the while, we go through peaks and valleys...
But if we're really honest,
We are riding the valleys,
Waiting for that next cycle,
Waiting until the next great fall,
When we reach a valley again.

Sometimes I feel alone and I want to die
And I want to die, but this poem doesn't rhyme
And if this poem doesn't rhyme then why do I try
'Cause if I try then maybe I won't want to die.
And that's how you make a poem rhyme.

My mind is,
Sad and sober.
My heart is,
Completely bruised over...

Only sadness,
Can feed my sadness.
Only pain,
Can sooth my pain...

Soon It'll all,
Be numb.
Soon you will,
Feel nothing.

Sleep in the world,
Of consciousness.
Until you awake again,
Sad and sober.

Ok.
So it's Valentines day.
I'm alone,
but I'm in love again.
                                    The chemicals in my brain are firing pleasure sensors
                                     or whatever that science **** says.
                                      It bothers me that I live a lie no matter what truth I embrace
but whatever

I'm in love with his smile
his laugh
how he and I know exactly what each other is thinking
telepathy is our ESP.
If he knew was me
he would know it was him
still is him
by the way

I'm in love with his poetry
his voice
Every new thing I learn
Is a starburst in my heart

I know I look like a stalker
the way I follow him
but seeing him is my sanity

I have to believe
he will love me one day
if I want to live
another day