You made me a poet
You made my pencil and paper meet
My words hit paper
All I am is a product of what you have made me to be
You made me a poet

I think perhaps that I am too sensitive
The snowflake
The idea that my generation is soft and can't handle conflict might be true, because because in my eyes, all conflict is evil,
maybe I am stirring up conflict,
maybe I am the one whole holding the lighter and lighter fluid at the bridges that I burn.
Maybe I'm too sensitive.
A snowflake in a pool of lava,
I am just begging to burn in flames. Perhaps I just am unable to live a life without conflict.
Maybe I'm just messy.
Maybe I'm too sensitive
offended by everyones words
hurt by every pin
Maybe I'm too sensitive

I have always run a mile a minute.
My words moving faster than I could ever run.

Thought through or not words flow out of my mouth like water

I haven't been able to shut up for the last 15 years.

The grass, the caterpillars, tired of my talking.

The grasses are screaming.

The cats, the lizards, crawling away swiftly.

The caterpillars turned to butterflies in order to fly away from me.

And here's silence.

I've never heard silence not even in the depths of my mind.

I've always wondered what it's like but
It's a sword in a stone that I will never be able to touch.

I have always run a mile a minute.

My words are like a fire with every sentence oil is doused upon the flame.
I crave the extinguish of silence

And yet in the dark of mind when all of the crows have flown away
Silence is just an idea not yet formed

My notes app
Described only as a collection of my adolescence
The loss and gain of my teenage life
You dear.
You made it into my notes app
What an honor
Hold the presses
If you hurt me real bad or I hurt you
Sad, Mad, Absolutely disgusted
All of my everything
Written
Told
Plainly stated
My life.

When I was younger, I thought I was as mature as a teenager
Now in my adolescence, I realize i'm still not as mature as teenager
Mature is a state of mind
And if the state of my mind is consistently and always scrambled, how can I be as mature as a teenager.
When I was younger I wanted to be a teenager
The freedom in driving and plethora of friends that I knew I would have.
My naivety
No one tells you that when you're a teenager, you can be surrounded by people, but still feel like no one gets you.
You also don't want to be the angsty teenager
So **** it up and
b friendly
Be popular
be cool
I don't think my mind or my mouth got the memo
Friendly I am
But I don't think i've ever hit that cool mark
But really, who needs cool when you can overthink your entire existence
Ah, being a teenager the best years of your life
Really just really soak that in

I write and I write
Everything that I write.
I want to share with the world
But The words written within the walls of this little app are reason to be concerned for my mental state
Reason to put me under a psychiatric hold
Institutionalize me
Medicate me
Sedate me
Tie me to a hospital bed with handcuffs as the voices that linger in my mind consume my every thought
Hold me in a padded room
Hold me in a straight jacket
Hold me
Just hold me till my tears run dry
I write and I write, but never will these words be safe enough to share with the ones that I love so much.

I want you to understand me
truly me
What makes me
me
What makes my muscle sore
What shakes me to my core
There is so much more to me than you will ever understand
You weren't delt this hand
no matter what I tell you
You cannot understand my struggle unless you have lived it
You cannot be the person I talk too unless you have felt Like life is not worth living
I know I have friends thats a fact I do not doubt
I don't want a friend.
I want a person that I can live life with forever.
And they will never leave me through love and sorrow.
They will want me around, not as a love but to love
The person who time stops when we're around each other.
But you can't be my oxygen and neither can I
I have to breathe the air that lies in the sky