Today, I lied and left a room full of people
I went and hid
sitting on the cold metal stairs
Halfway to the second floor because I knew no one would look there
if they tried to find me
It was so silent I felt my heart struggling to
stop beating
To match its surroundings
The lack of sound stifled movement
Slowed thought
The ringing in my ears such beautiful music
It dawned on me that
I have done this before

I have hidden myself away from lively people and colorful noise
sitting against cold ground, cold wall, anything as long as it was cold enough to bite my skin
Retreating from life even before I labeled myself with depression
I'm not making this up
I want to cry though my voice is statuesque with the rest of me
It is sweet relief, even if only for a second I believe
I am not some twisted monster
preying on false struggle for sympathy

I hear the voices of other entering the room I've run from
I know I should go back
But the silence, the silence
I remind myself what they have taught me
Sometimes you have to just do what is needed, because there is no other option
If the others can walk back in with a laugh and a smile, so can I

It takes a long time for me to convince my legs to get up but I do it

I walk away from the steps

A shield is carefully crafted,
Linking and weaving scars together to protect the bruised heart inside.
A shield is not a painted piece of polished protection.
A shield is the last resort, a desperate attempt to grip onto life,
Which is but a fragile skein of thread,
that quickly unravels and easily snaps in two.
The bruised heart is not hiding behind this armor.
A poor heart that has suffered at the abuse of the outside world,
Is simply trying to preserve itself from decaying.
If the battered heart is not secured behind its shield,
The deterioration of the muscle begins and the heart slowly fades away
In an revolting and repulsive death,
Unless the world is merciful and a spear is plunged through the heart
before it can succumb to a lethargic and dreadful death.
The heart avoids its fate,
Skirting around pain and skipping away from death.  
Through as the shield of scars becomes lame and worn,
The poor heart begins to wonder,
Would death really be so unfavorable,
If death meant it wouldn't have to live like this anymore?

When I wake up in the morning, flattened against my sheets
My body hesitates before stacking itself upright
As if it knows, this isn't right
As if it can give comparison between before and now

I put my hands on my waist
And for a moment they hover- where they used to fall no longer exists
I feel like I'm plunging my hands straight into my very soul
When they hit upon curves and bone
I marvel, poking at the skeleton uncovered under my skin

I loved myself then, I love myself now
More so even

I feel less real somehow
As if by my body dissapearing,
my soul becomes more detached
As if by eating less,
I become more free.

Can someone please explain?
Why the need to control by pain?
Evil,..disgraceful,...vindictive
Your mere energy yes,destructive
Drama,strife,the fighting
Constant you prove back bitting
Showing no remorse,who....you !?......ha never
You just think you're oh,so clever
Misery loves company,indeed this is so known
But I will not relate .....to a Heart of pure stone....

The three of us drag our feet across the snowy field
I bet you he's laughing right now Mom insists
I mean, we know we're in the right place
This spot is burned into each of our minds
But we can't find him
I use my shoes to scuff the snow off one plaque,
then another
My toes going numb and cold
Baring the grass to the frigid air
But to no avail
The three of us laugh because there is nothing else to do
There's homework and after school activities to complete
We can't stay combing the ground back and forth all day
We say our I love you's and goodbye's
And walk away, leaving only a trail of footprints behind

Today, I lost my dad's grave underneath the snow

It didn't hurt, I left it there that way
Life carried on

They say you don't know what you have until it's gone.
But what about the people that do know?
The people that just have to sit there waiting and watching helplessly as the only thing that's keeping them from going insane is walking away from them.
Isn't it much worse for them?

sometimes you just need someone to
tell you that it's worth it,

that living isn't a game
only played
to lose.

i lost everything in moments
i couldn't count on my fingers
and toes.

all my blessings are coming,
i'm sure,

but i'm so blind
that i don't really see them anymore.

sometimes you're sad for no reason
and people ask you
why?

and you cannot answer.

Poetry has become my self harm,
I only write at my lows...
Instead of blood I see words,
Instead of a blade I have a keyboard...

I want to write about...
The wind dancing with the sea...
Or...
The way you smile and it lights up your innocent face...

I don't want poetry to be my self harm,
Because poetry is beautiful...
An art...
Not.
Just.
Blood.
And.
Scars.

they
d i  s   p    e     r      s       e
like paint dropped into a glass
of melted ice
and try to enjoin once again
but are u n a b l e

they
tolerate
what they think they deserve
which isn't much
and push to give more
of themselves away

they
plop
like coins into a fountain
only asking for a wish
but not expecting one
in return

In the Winter
we were friends,
but we weren't that close

In the Spring
we were best friends
that were torn apart
by your relationship

In the Summer
we were closer than ever
unofficial lovers
the best of friends

In the Fall
still best friends
but you're going out places
with other people
and I wonder
where we'll be
when it's Winter again