When I was younger,
I used to always see which raindrop,
On the window of the car would beat
All the other raindrops to the bottom
Of the window.
I'd sit there, watching, concentrating so hard,
Just to guess and be wrong,
As another raindrop would pull ahead
At the last second.
I was always so amazed by the raindrop
That won, that I'd pay no attention to the others,
In the same way, you're that raindrop that won;
You're all I paid attention to,
And now the only raindrops that win
Are the ones that fall down my cheeks.

If you knew that I stayed up late
Every night, thinking about you,
Thinking about us
Would that change anything?

If you knew that I have changed,
In more ways than one,
To try to hold onto you,
Would that matter to you?

If you knew that every night,
I hold a knife to my wrist,
Thinking about what we could have been,
Would that make you feel anything?

If you knew that I spend
Hours crying over you,
And everything we were,
Would you care, then?

Doesn't matter.

If you knew how many nights
I spent, drinking away my sorrows;
Blues that you caused,
Would you start to give a ****?

If you knew the things I've done,
The people I've been with,
The places I'd been,
If you knew, would anything change?

I'm growing up,
So daddy, let me go,
I'm not sure when,
But yes, I'll come home.

I must move on;
Explore the world on my own,
I'm not sure when,
But yes, I'll come home.

Don't try to hold me back,
Because I need to do this on my own,
I'll always need you,
But this, I need to do alone.

I'll miss you too,
But it won't be long before I'm home,
So daddy, don't cry,
I'll miss you while I'm gone.

Dry up your tears now,
There's no need to cry,
I'm just growing up,
I'm not going to die.

I'll be back before you know it,
I'll wrap my arms around you,
You'll pretend you didn't miss me,
The way you always do.

But daddy, I must go now,
I have places I need to be,
So stay strong as I promise you this,
This won't be the last time you see me.

I am not one of those people who put up angry notes because of some crazy impulse or a destructive desire to rail against everything that is wrong with the world.
I am not the person whose hands shake so violently,
Whose body shudders so uncontrollably,
That I cannot type straight

But today, I just found out
That people
They pick up my poems
My emotions
Tangible
heavy
difficult
Solidified
Are being picked up
Likened to rags
And treated as cheap caricatures
Of the life I've led

If only they had ever felt
That gut-clenching fear
Of something beneath the surface
The scars that have faded
Covered by new skin
Over the years

If they felt
The need to end their own life
As acutely
As I do

I've never stopped
Not even once
Since the past seven years
It's been right here

Hidden underneath the layers
In between the lines
Read deeper if you dare