I long to write beautiful words,
That convey love and things like birds.
Poetry inspired by life,
Stories and tales of overcoming strife.

Instead, the words flow from darkness,
Metaphors oozing harshness.
Words inspired by pain and death.
Conveying my struggles through every shallow breath.

Songs and ballads about glowing angels,
Not demons and monsters portraying dangers.
Hopefully, one day flowers will start to sprout,
From the dying fire, I only knew about.

Words of life and glittering hope,
Emerging from darkness, my blindness will grow.
Music of old heartbreak transforming slowly,
Echoing through my paper and healing mellowly.

Always chasing distraction,
Running to keep ahead.
Always to my next action,
My thoughts I still dread.

Studying till I can not,
And then wanting to get drunk.
Thoughts disappear shot by shot,
So I won’t get in a funk.

My feet start to tire,
I sit and breathe.
The thoughts consume me like fire,
Blazing and burning through me.

I try and get up fast,
To escape my own thoughts.
To avoid my harsh past,
But they keep up their taunts.

We all need someone.
When we just feel done.
When we are left with no one.
When there’s no one left.
When I’m upset,
I turn to my pet.
My bunny, always stays.
Beside me and lays.
Comforting me through the days.
Looks up into my eye.
Whenever I cry,
Till my eyes dry.

I remember,
Going back to class,
After taking the knife to my skin.
By knife, I mean the stolen box cutter,
From engineering class.
Meant to be used for cardboard.

I remember,
Sitting through class.
Letting that ridiculous long skirt,
Absorb my ****** pain.
Fearing, it would seep through.
And someone would see.
Although it never did.
And no one saw.

I remember,
Hiding in the bathroom.
For three periods in a row.
Clawing at my thighs,
Because the only tool I had,
Was a pen.
So, I wrote cruel things.
Promises, words to end things.
And when I emerged, glazed.
No. One. Noticed.

I remember,
How much I wanted them to see me.
To look me in the eye,
And see my suffering.
But, no one did.
No. One.

Forget the past.
Run so fast.
Duck the forecast.
That’s saying it won’t last.

Maybe it’s wrong.
They won’t string me along.
Maybe it will last long.
Make me belong.

But just like before,
I’m the loser.
Getting hurt galore.
Feelings they ignore.

So back to my low,
The place I know.
Feeling hollow,
In my wallow.

I’ll strengthen my wall.
So even with a call,
I will never fall.
To anyone at all.

I hate how you ruined song after song.
It’s not fair that you have that power so strong.
Music is the only thing that makes me belong.
Taking that away is just plain wrong.

It may be cute but hear it from my view,
Getting a song captioned, “this reminded me of you.”
Makes the song stick to you like glue.
So after you hurt me I can’t stand it and take it off queue

I will never again let you through my wall.
As a matter of fact, maybe never to anyone at all.
To my problems you would call,
Kept you enthralled.
And when I would stall,
Your prying would keep its crawl.
So I would fall,
To your appall.
And you would throw it in a ball,
Down the hall.
I was left to haul,
Into a shattered ball,
What you would keep cruelly mauled.
So up went my wall.
Are you really appalled?
That now I won’t open to anyone at all?