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YYC Jul 15
<!doctype html>
<title>I'm So Confused</title>

<h1>Oh don't mind me, just a conflicted person here!</h1>
<p>there's so many of you that occupy my hear</p>
        <li>soccer boy
        <li>tuba dude
        <li>genius boy
        <li>reddit puppy provider

<p><b>I'm so<i>conflicted</i></b><br>
and I have no clue as to what to do with all of them.</p>

i don't know why i made this into an html formatted document but okay.
YYC Jul 9
we're years apart,
but you're still so sweet;
so understanding,
but broken like me.

I know it's only been a few months,
since she's abandoned you,
lost in the rain,
not knowing what to do.

but now that I'm here,
I want to bring you home.
give you a shelter,
keep you warm.

Help heal the wounds
she left on you,
the ones you limp through,
to pretend you're in one piece,
still good.

I hope you open up more to me soon,
let me see the worst of the scars and bruises.
let me fill that big hole of empty she left in your heart,
puzzle and glue back all the missing shards.

i just want you to see me that way,
but if you don't ever,
I'll still be here and.
it's okay.
she's gone, but still lingers in his heart. i'm here, but was never in his heart.
YYC Jul 6
dear world,


at least,
this one,
where nobody knows me,
where nobody can really hurt me,
how am I supposed to feel hurt by someone or something I don't even know?

i'm just.
so tired.
i can't even sleep properly anymore.
i wake up the second i feel somewhat conscious,
i can't deal with the ******* of being everybody's scapegoat.
and when they need help,
i'm the person they turn to.


even at this point in my life,
why am I still so indecisive?
I don't want to live,
but I'm too scared to use the painful ways of dying.

this may sound like another typical dramatic sad girl story,
for me,
for someone that was so happy,
for someone that was SO confident.
so confident about how much she valued her life,
and anyone who tried,
tried to end their own,
was a ****** that needed to get some help,
overdosed on painkillers.


and all I got,


the inability to hear for a week.

i don't know who or what's keeping me here;
I've lost all hope for my perfect story.
i'm sorry if i'm scaring you away,
i'm scaring myself.

i'm probably just 'exaggerating' at this point.

sorry for any typos or capitalization or punctuation mistakes; i can't bear to go back and look at what i wrote.
YYC Jul 6
one cannot eat
in the comforts of her own home.
Oh, yes, That's right.
It's not her's.
It's 'her's'.
She, the devil in disguise,
the one who commands you to cower at her mighty might,
the narcissism oozing out of her pores.

Oh no.
I'm sorry.
I literally just described every narcissistic villain mother figure out there.
Shall I start again?


When mad at somebody else,
you're her best friend.
While yelling her heart out,
she asks you to join.

You do it,
because it feels good.
Feels good that the monster's accepted you,
so you pretend.

you say a few things,
sneer a little,
watch her smile,
in approval.

but when the time comes, and she's mad at you-
everything in the past,
is used against you.

You can't even defend yourself,
since it's all true,
you did say those things,
yes. you.

as of right now, my hand's a sweltering into an **** red hue

marks on the back of my arm,
they're going to scar.

but it's not the physical one that's going to stay the longest,
but rather the words,
the blood running after the hurt.

But every time.
she brings me back to her side again.
every time.

                                                        ­    -YYC
i sincerely hope no one sees this, but if you do, keep reading.
i think i've stopped writing about romance and sappy **** like that because i don't think i have anymore compassion for that kind of thing anymore. i'm going to be honest here. no one knows the real me here. i can share...the gore and all the unfiltered **** stuff that no one know or sees or should know. god knows the lengths some people will go to make me keep some of the secrets i write about, but i need to get them out, so i suppose this is fine right?
YYC May 14
"I want to be happy."
"Content woman."
"have a rich husband."

every teen girl's dream,
when asked what the future holds;
what happened to unicorn fantasies,
and our hearts of gold?

now instead of golden hearts,
we want men with trust funds and charm.

turning a cold shoulder to our true selves,
yet complaining about rude names,
when called ****** who're only after wealth.

why do we do this to ourselves?
we're so capable,
yet we'd rather lean on,
somebody who mistreats us,
and doles out small amounts,
of love and care;
we try so terribly hard,
to grasp on,
onto that slippery piece of feeling,
and when it leaves,
we're put back into that pit of empty,
pitch black and dull,
until they come back when they want us,
but we're still left wanting for more.

so, please.
learn from the story of millions.
stories of girls,
with so much potential.
don't force yourself to be content,
when you can bargain for more,
only then,
can we step up the ladder,
to be even to those,
who jeered and mocked,
and took advantage,
of our kind hearts.

i have no idea what I'm doing. I'm not a feminist I swear, just tired of mistreatment. ^^
YYC May 7
YYC May 7
when we first met,
I hated you.
hated that adoring, naive wonder in your eyes,
hated how you stuck around like an annoying fly,
amazed at everything;
anything could light up that smile on your face.
I  hated you.
until I didn't.
until that stupid smile of yours,
didn't annoy me anymore.
the sound of your footsteps following mine,
went from a hindrance to being a normality.
and your loyalty,
no matter what **** you had to put up from both them and me,
you still held your head up high,
that halo circling your head;
you lifted my quickly falling soul from its descent,
raised it,
and made me whole again.
I hated you,
then took you for granted.
Didn't realize,
how much I relied on that smile,
those footsteps,
that consistent scribbling,
until you were gone.
I'm sorry.
Please come back to me.

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