yes, i love you
ja, ich liebe dich
ja, jeg elsker dig

i'm sorry
es tut mir leid
...unskyld :/

I want to see the world.
Not just be stuck in one place!
It might be nice here,
But it'd be a fun adventure, right?

But one we all naturally accept.

When you're ugly,
People tend to focus on that.
You are what you look like now.
Even if you're beautiful on the inside.

When you're beautiful,
People tend to focus on that.
You are what you look like now.
Even if you're ugly on the inside.

I can't breathe.
Why did I comment at all?
Why did I say anything in the chat?
They're all judging, oh god.

They don't seem like it but they are, aren't they?
"That's such a weird question, kick her."
"I'm terrified now because of you. Blocked."
That's what they'll do, right?

I can't stop twitching.
I need to cry.
Breathing is getting hard.
Maybe I should sleep.



Yeah, I'll do that.

I’m fine I’m fine
I’m fine I’m fine
I’m fine I’m fine
I’m fine I’m fine
I’m fine I’m fine
I’m fine I’m fine
I’m fine I’m fine
I’m fine I’m fine
I’m fine I’m fine
I’m fine I’m fine
I’m fine I’m fine
I’m fine I’m fine
I’m fine I’m fine
I’m fine I’m fine
I’m fine I’m fine
I’m fine I’m fine
I’m fine I’m fine
I’m fine I’m fine
I’m fine I’m fine
I’m fine I’m fine
I’m fine I’m fine
I’m fine I’m fine
I’m fine I’m fine
I’m fine I’m fine
I’m fine I’m fine
I’m fine I’m fine
I’m fine I’m fine
I’m fine I’m fine
I’m fine I’m fine
Im fine I’m fine








Jk am I really fine,
No, but no one seem to notice,
So all I say is “I’m fine”

I know I’m there,
But I don’t feel there
I seldomly talk
I seldomly speak.
I ᴷⁱⁿᵈᵃ feel included,
But I’m not the same.
I feel lonely inside,
But I don’t let is show
My expression say “ok”
But inside says “no”
I show I’m ok
But it’s feel lonely inside

I used to be lover,

Now I’m a hater,

My passion was to succeed,

But now I watch him bleed

Oh lord, what has come of me

Now I cope with the sound of music

Tap, Tap, Tap, inside my dull brain

And suddenly

I get that feeling

Nothing matter anymore

All I want to do is sleep,

Put my thoughts aside,

And sleep forever

Sticks and stones
Might break my bones,
But nothing hurts more
Than the sound of her name
Coming from my lips.

Mom.

I'm full of hate
I'm full of disgust
I'm full of tears
I'm full of fear
I'm full of sadness
I'm full of pain
But most of all,
I'm full of the depths of water

"Why don't you just let me die?
Let me close my eyes and never open them again!
No one would care except like a few ppl
Just let me give up
Just let go of me
Please"

                            "Hey if that's what you want, I'll gladly block you on social media and ignore you at school
Not the right choice at all, but if it's what you want then yeah, I guess"

"thats not what that means at a l l"

               "Certainly what it sounds like"
                  "What does it mean then???"

A girl looks out her simple window
Of her small, simple house.
On a simple street.
Full of simple trees,
Simple buildings,
Simple roads,
And stocked with not-so simple people.

They can hide so much.
They can hide my bruises.
They can hide my tears.
They can hide my loneliness.


They hide my lies.




But, they honestly just hide my eyes.

My only purpose
is to listen.
An object for people to vent to.
A video ad talking about the joys of life.
An automated voice to provide a better outlook.
A wound up toy saying the same words over and over again, forever.
A vessel for a voice with no one to talk to.
A voice almost no one has heard.

But ****, if that's all I'm here for, I'm going to try my hardest and no one can stop me.

"Love you"
"A lot"
                                                       "aw yay"
                                           "I love you too"
"Please know that"
"I really do"
                                                                 "..."
                                                          "Okay"
                                           "I believe you."

I keep my door closed
So I can sleep.
But tonight it's open.
And there's a strange red light down the hall.

I don't have enough for a trashcan.
Or a chair.
My trashpile consists of five things:
Five pieces of paper
And me.

Write something happy.
Write something sad.
Express your feelings.
If you don’t, I’ll be mad.

What you don't know can't hurt you.
That's what I have to tell myself.
When my friend says she's been cutting.
When my friend says she's being abused.

Do they think I'm dumb?
Do they think I'm ******* dumb?
You go to one person with your problems, and that's me.
Why do you think I can't put two together?

I can't do this anymore.
You three hurt me too much.
My mom was right, you're using me.
Why am I still here?

I'm sorry,
Five.
I didn't mean to ask you of that...
But you're my new closest friend.

I swore I’d protect you and I hurt you.
I swore I’d get better and I couldn’t.
I swore I’d help you and I made things worse.
I swore I’d listen and I couldn’t take it.
I swore I loved you and I do.
I swore I wouldn’t let you fall and I pushed you off the cliff.

Happy things are things you deserve
Not abusive friends
Not abusive parents
Not abusive partners
And you don’t deserve that, liebling.

Happy things are like drawing a nice thing
Like not stuttering while talking to the cashier
Like sightreading a piece by Paganini on the first try
Like finding out someone loves you back
And I’m happy for you, even if someone else isn’t! I love your work!

Happy things are like getting over a fear of planes
A fear of people
A fear of opening up
A fear of being out there
And I’m proud of you for getting over whatever it was! You improved, despite everything! Congratulations!

Happy things are like a Christmas present you always wanted
Or a birthday surprise you weren’t expecting
Or a popular poem you weren’t expecting to blow up
Or a good grade in a hard test! Good job, buddy! I’m proud of you!

Happy things are knowing people are out there that want to help you!
Happy things are having people around you that care!
Happy things are getting to choose what to do without fear of being judged
Happy things aren’t doing things for the sake of others

Improve for the sake of you, not because someone said so.
Maybe you don’t want to!
But if you’re not here…
Won’t people be wondering where you went?

No matter how small your account is on social media
No matter how little friends you have
No matter how much you think they don’t care
I can guarantee you, someone will be worried

But hey, what am I to tell you anything?
That won’t stop me from telling you to keep up the good work, buddy!
I’m proud of you for improving <3
(hehe I don’t make any sense)

I'm happy, that's for sure!
Happy like someone drowning underwater.
Happy like someone getting rejected.
Happy like an anonymous girl writing poems online.

I'm about as interesting as a fruit fly, 4, and no amount of arguing that fruit flies are cool will change my mind <3

I never say anything because I know you don't care.
I mean, you don't feel, right?

The sky is blue.
But it’s late at night.
I say it’s magic.
You say it’s street lights. :/

Here’s the story
of five kids.
Three girls
and one boy.
And a lonely child
who’s heart I broke.

Finally, we get to the fifth.
An FTM kid.
They draw and write.
But they’re on here, too.
I don’t want them to find out.

I’ve said so much to hurt them.
All of us have said so much,
whether we meant it or not.
So, they closed themself
off from everyone.
Everyone in real life.

I…
can’t say anymore.
But, babe, if you see this…
I’m so sorry.

I swore I’d protect you and I hurt you.
I swore I’d get better and I couldn’t.
I swore I’d help you and I made things worse.
I swore I’d listen and I couldn’t take it.
I swore I loved you and I do.
I swore I wouldn’t let you fall and I pushed you off the cliff.

Here’s the story
of five kids.
Two girls
and one boy.
And the only one
who will speak the truth.

Sadly, this is about me.
The one who speaks the truth.
A short-haired, short-figured girl
who has nothing to lose.
Maybe this should’ve been last,
but that’s where the best is.

Friends say I need to eat.
Friends say I need a hug.
Friends say I need to stop.
Friends say I’m too loud.
Maybe they’re right.
Maybe I do need to stop.

I try to think that people care.
I try to make them believe that I care.
But when you hurt yourself,
doubt yourself,
or starve yourself,
It just makes me want to stop.

Everybody knows that I’m here for them.
The fifth,
the fourth,
the third,
the first.
But who’s there when I need to cry?

I try my best,
I really do.
But the only things you say are either
“Lizzie no”
Or
“Lizzie stop”

My only sense of help
Is the Internet and myself.
I promise I’ll be fine, my friends!
I love me, okay?
Why do you think I’m always up?
Why do you think I never have anything to say?

I swear I will eat.
I swear I will get a hug.
I swear I will stop.
I swear I will be quieter.
I swear I will stop hitting myself.
I swear I will respect myself more.
I swear I will protect you with everything I have.
I swear I will better myself for you.
I swear I will help you through this.
I swear I will listen to your problems.
I swear I will prove to you, once and for all, that I love you.
I swear I will not let anyone else fall because of me.

Are these promises to my friends...




or to myself?

Here’s the story
of five kids.
Two girls
and one boy.
And the only one
who will speak the truth.

Here’s the third.
An Italian boy.
He plays the cello, writes poems,
Watches anime and brags too much.
He seems rather confident,
But on the inside, he is not.

Much like the fourth,
he's depressed.
And much like the fifth,
he's insecure.
He doesn’t try to hide it, though.
E v e r y b o d y k n o w s.

He’s getting help.
He has been for years.
But it’s just been getting worse
and everyone can tell.
I wish I could guarantee
that he is not alone.

He knows I'm always there.
A shoulder to cry on.
A pillow to hug.
But he doesn’t say anything.
Never.
Not unless the first talks first.

He used to make me uncomfortable
because he was weird.
Now he just makes me uncomfortable
because of his touches.
But aside from that, he’s amazing.
And he thinks I am, too.

He calls me Dad
and the first Mom.
I don’t love him like a daughter though.
More like a brother.
We look like twins, anyway.
It was just a Fourth Grade joke.

I will protect this boy with everything I have.
I will better myself for him.
I will help him through this.
I will listen to him problems.
I will prove I love him.
I will not let anyone else fall because of me.

Here’s the story
of five kids.
Two girls
and one boy.
And the only one
who will speak the truth.

Next is the fourth.
A caramel haired girl.
She draws, she writes,
she reads and plays violin.
She’s rather two-faced,
but I know who she really is.

She's suicidal.
She's depressed.
Her family is Christian
and against her loving girlfriend.
All that leads up to
“the classic slicey-dicey!”

She thinks that no one cares.
She knows her parents don't.
She pours out her heart to me,
her wall, and her knife.
I wish I could help guarantee,
it'll all be okay.

She knows I'm always there.
Ready to listen.
Ready to care.
I’m upset she always thinks she’ll hurt me.
But in her defense,
she makes me worry.

I used to be jealous of her.
She used to be afraid of me.
But now she’s the dad I never had.
Caring.
Doesn’t make me cry.
Well, not in a bad way.

I call her Papa
And her girlfriend Mum.
I love them.
They love me.
At least...
I hope they do.

I will protect this girl with everything I have.
I will better myself for her.
I will help her through this.
I will listen to her problems.
I will prove I love her.
I will not let anyone else fall because of me.

You can be happy.
You can be sad.
But otherwise,
I’ll be watching.



Look to your left.

Can you smile for me?
Physically smile?
It’s fine if you can’t, but…
Then there’ll be two monsters in your closet.

Bright little things
Tiny like fireflies
They make me feel…happy
Happy little things

I look in the corner
There's a man in a chair
He stares at me, smiling weirdly
I smile back, waving happily

Here’s the story

of five kids.

Two girls

and one boy.

And the only one

who will speak the truth.



We’ll start with the newest.

A tall Christian girl.

She wears glasses, likes books,

and likes to draw.

She seems happy enough,

no matter how quiet she seems.



But she’s never happy,

never been alright.

Too much pressure.

Too many people.

She tries to make others happy

for the price of her own.



She felt forgotten by her family.

Forgotten by her friends.

Forgotten by her classmates.

Forgotten by the world.

I wish I could guarantee

that she’s not.



She knows I’m always there.

Always active.

Always awake.

And I'm glad that she does.

But then she breaks

like a clay piggy bank.



I’ve only known her a year

but I’d trust her with my life.

She’s like a mom to me.

Kind.

Doting.

But in a good way.



I call her Mum

and her girlfriend Papa.

I love them.

They love me.

At least...

I hope they do.



I will protect this girl with everything I have.

I will better myself for her.

I will help her through this.

I will listen to her problems.

I will prove I love her.

I will not let anyone else fall because of me.