Converse shoes and sometimes vans.
Most of them aren't worn up because there's always new ones.

Skinny jeans and crop tops.
Whoever understood these shrinking styles?
This generation of despair and confusion.

Teens who look up to eachother more than their family.
Teens who find satisfaction on the side of a sharpener's razor or the end of a cigarette.
Teens who live in their young lives more than their parents ever did.

We're seeing chaos and ****** of little children.
Wars in countries that hates eachother.
The oxygen thats thinning right in front of our faces.
And how much poison being thrown at us, brainwashing youths and toddlers.
Making them miserable without them being aware of it.

But this is the generation that knows the power of loving eachother.
The generation that uses that power to stay alive.

We're living on the edge.
We're seeing what the world is becoming.
And we are the only hope, to get **** back on track.
Hell even adults say that.

Your absence is nothing
but a reminder
of your missing presence.

A little note telling me
that you're never coming back.
A soft whisper in my ear,
fingers running through my hair,
burning lips on cold skin--
meticulously painting the night sky
in colors unknown to man.

It would have been beautiful,
this thing we used to have.
Except it's now gone,
and all that's left
are bitter hearts and sad poems.

Cement walls surround me.
The silence tortures me.
Crossed legged on the bed
With my head down,
Staring at a razor blade.

Oh how it excites me to see,
Blood dripping from an area where my watch should be.
I am numb to physical pain.
As i have had enough insanity.

I know deep down,
My heart screams for salvation.
Yet a stronger part that shares it,
Gives hell in ways unknown.
It screams but no one is hearing it,
Not even me.

Familiar to the situation.
Where I screamed and no one listened.
Where I spoke and no one responded.
Where I cared and no one seemed to appreciate.
The impact was stronger than they thought.
They say I'll be fine and Oh how I agreed.
Then they left.

Now I am left unloved.
Forced to smile when I don't want to.
Forced to cover up on sunny days where it's hot.
Forced to cry and refuse to go Out.
They don't love me.
And I do not know how to love myself.

Our love is a metal heart.
A token of attraction.
Our love is black and white.
Like the cookie that used to be your favorite.

Our love is sitting next to eachother.
But words rarely come out.
Our love is staring at eachother silently and sometimes secretly.

Our love is distance and age gap.
Our love is judged.
Our love is a drama competition.
With a hug afterwards.

Our love is rejection.
Our love is left in a class alone.
Our love came back and it's unknown.

Our love is misunderstood.
Between us. Between everybody.
We never understand.
Our love is depression and red marks on our wrists.

Our love was an act.
Our love was a lie.
Our love was hope.
Our love was belief.
We suffer in the confusion of "what are we?"

I hope you see the answer and finally our love could be what it should be.