she smiles when most despair,
they call her sadistic,
she cries when no one else is there,
'cause they'd call her dramatic

she tries to explain herself,
no one cares for that
so she becomes someone else,
with everything she lacks.

now they call her fake,
and she knows that it's true,
she also knows that being real
had only gone askew

‘I don't know what to do,
they despise me, I'm sure!’
‘you know what?’, she says to you,
‘they don't matter anymore’.

your eyes just won't stop leaking

the wailing’s left your throat so worn, you rasp instead of speaking

I know you think it's fine because you're like this all the time,

but I don't think you know how much it hurts me when you cry

so when next I see you,
I will ask what's wrong,
now you can throw up the words
you've swallowed all along

no, you're not a bother;
I want you to heal.
yes, I really care about you;
tell me how you feel.

This time, I won't listen when you say it's no big deal

I've always been too skinny
and a little bit too tall
my torso almost looks
like there is zero flesh at all

my complexion’s very pale
worryingly more than most
not unlike my mother
if my mother was a ghost

my eyes are chocolate brown
with darker flecks inside
my lips are small and round
no cupid’s bow in sight

people say I'm beautiful
that my smile is sweet
I don't really see it
but mum says I'm a treat

Ruby’s always honest
and she says I'm super cute
I asked my friend Georgie
and he just called me a “beaut”

don't know why they think this
it's obviously not true
looking in the mirror
always makes me sorta blue

Sammy saying “***, I'd die
for such a figure!”
doesn't stop me wishing that my hips were slightly bigger

now and then, she'd come and go
reason why, she couldn't know
touring the entire town
and the scanty woods around

she would wave and she would smile
she would do this for a while
but the people paid no mind
why's a “hi” so hard to find?

soon enough, she'd jump and shout
turning red, she'd yell and scream
like a dog, she'd thrash about
was this all some horrid dream?

when she'd turned to go, bereft
she'd be hating how she'd left
the town and woods around it
exactly as she found it

hey little me,

do you still don
those rose-coloured glasses
to hide from reality's gloom?

do you still paint
blue skies over every
window in our room?

I think it's fine
to steer your mind
towards good
but remember this too;

there's evil behind
the red on your eyes
and the blue in your safe little room

I wish I was a Tower
with a really pointy spire,
rising like the Burj Khalifa,
maybe even higher.

I would be so sharp
that all the burdens on my head
would fall apart, and fall away,
and leave me free of dread.

tall enough to rise above
my silly little fears,
hard enough and closed enough;
immune to shedding tears.

yes, I wish I was a Tower
so my soul would live
in something strong and permanent,
something resistive.

though it saddens me a lot,
sturdy Tower, I am not.

I'm more like something that the wind could carry as it went,
something small, and feeble, something like a Tent.

the bridge is good for walking when your shunning thoughts of him
the water's so inviting, so enticing, yet so grim
would he care if you jumped in?

you're jumping,
falling,
splashing,
thrashing,
in the biting cold

plagued by thoughts
of you
and him
together
growing old

It's too bad you never will because you cannot be that bold

breathing hard,
hardly breathing,
mind adrift,
body sinking,
straining to contain the air you didn't mean to gasp

bubbles leaving,
lungs burning,
limbs flailing,
brain learning
this was a mistake, and really longing to go back

...then it fades to black

he's soaked right through,
and holding you,
it sets your heart aflame

you feel no sorrow, guilt or shame
you're just glad he came