Maybe I opened more social medias,
maybe i did it to gain extra attention.
Maybe it's a way to cope,
with the ****** things that have been done to me.
I cope with these horrible memories,
by making myself an object for the internet.

Honestly, although I will tell you it wasn't your fault,
not even I now believe that.
You were so scared then -
so fragile -
you were so small to carry all that hurt and sadness.
I promise you that I'm trying to do better,
for you, little me, for you,
and maybe someday I will truly be just that:
Better.

i know im not actually a burden but -
do you hate me? am I annoying? do you want me to shut up?
i know its just my head being mean but -
you deserve better than me, you dont deserve this mess.
i know i can get better but -
i dont deserve help, I'm only going to get worse.
I know I should be medicated but -
i dont have the money, and do I really deserve it?
I know I could just escape the void, but -
it calls my name, it beckons me.
I know maybe people do care, but -
maybe I'll really do it.

I am often up til 3 a.m.,
the hands on clocks merge and jump,
and I often miss large chunks of time,
because that's just how it is.

life no longer has the same shine
that it did when I was young
now all I do is sit on my phone
and play Solitaire
because where's the fun I used to know?
Where's the fun I used to want to have?
Am I doomed to be this way for the rest of my life?
do I never get to be happy in the same way again?

I am simply not going to see things the same f-cking way as you do
and that scares the f*ck out of me.
Not to be coy.
Not to tease you with an asterisk.
Not to censor my feelings.
Not to frustrate you.
Not to make you go "don't do that"
Do not
*******
test me.

Homelessness - for me - was the shame
the raw shame I felt emanating from my mother
any time she had to ask a friend or her own ******* mother
for a place to stay.

Homelessness was the embarrassment of
"I could come over to your house to play!"
"Oh wait..."

Homelessness was the frustration of yet another house
that we could not get
we apply for all the ones we can afford and yet...?
Still we sleep on a couch and hope to find something.

Homelessness becomes hopelessness in so short a time.
The longer we have no home,
the longer we feel like we'll never have one.

I am a careless wanderer
my mother before me the same
when we think that we finally have a permanent home
suddenly we are lifted by the backs of our necks
and put back on the road
because careless wanderers don't get to live comfortably
careless wanderers can't live like normal people
careless wanderers sleep with men
who try to **** them
and go back and go back and go back to him
mother goes back to him
because at least he has money.
At least he pays our bills.
It doesn't matter that he tried to take out my mum's eye
because he puts food on the table that she could have worked for herself...
I want him to die.

a small space
between being
and not being
and i would like to be
but the world so hates me
and wants me to not be
but i will fight to be me.
i will.

I sat on the bench at night,
the street is much more lovely when illuminated by manmade shine,
but the darkness sat beside me.
I stared at the darkness, my new companion.
It stared back.

Maybe if I get too stressed,
maybe teachers will see it
then again I'm already to the point where I'd rather die
than do my schoolwork

A little circle
it spins around and around and around
maybe I'm thinking too hard
Or maybe I'm just dizzy.

Childhood is like snuggling in a big, warm blanket.
Then, as I grow older,
I lay my arms over the top.
I become an adult, and the blanket is ripped away from me,
just like my mum used to do when I wouldn't wake up to my alarm.
Quick, and cold.
I shiver.

early morning
i drink
although all it will do
will tire me
i am bored in this class.

I write music.
I write music and I sing,
I sing a lot.
I play the piano,
I play piano and I write music and I sing.

there are many nice words,
some more eloquent, others simple
but still beautiful in their simplicity,
and I use these to accurately (or as accurate as I can get)
to express the intense emotions I feel with my whole chest
with my whole head.
I write
because it's my freedom.

There is a garden that I want to go,
a place where I can be alone,
a place where I will hang my head -
quite literally, because that's where I've planned to be dead.

I am exhausted,
a growing rust
maybe i would turn to dust
the more i write the more i despair
at this point i wont even rhyme anymore
i hope you find the sadness in me
like the light i found in you
im too tired to capitalise anymore
im too tired to punctuate anymore
i bet my english teacher would hate me now

I am the sky, a wide expanse above you.
I am the ocean, I whisk you away and dangers lie within.
I am the iris, I'm hope, and wisdom,
and my courage is waning but it's there.
I am comfort.
I am worth it.
I am blue,
but not the blue you're used to.
I am not sadness. I am not misery. I am not unfriendliness.
I am blue,
but you're not ready for this blue.

Je suis un vagabond insouciant
I was once a child and got whatever I did want.
Je suis un navire flottant **** de ton monde
You were my sail and to you I grew fond.

Un jour je mourrai. Tu ne pleureras pas pour moi.

A Monster a day keeps my sleepiness at bay,
I am either sleeping 15 hours or am awake for 4 days,
I hate to sleep because nightmares plague my poor brain,
but if I stay awake too long then my body's in pain,
I'd much rather not have to sleep at all,
but it's human nature.
I am human. Unfortunately.

my hands are on a wall of wet paint.
if i dont move them, itll dry on my hands,
if i do, the paint is on my hands anyway.
make a move, or stay this way?
i am full of cracks anyway.
maybe i can be freed.

I thought I was enough,
giving your world all the things you needed and wanted,
I thought you were happy,
but I was always just falling short.

Your favourite colour was green,
so green was a theme I went with often and gave you most,
but who would have known your green was an envy that caused you to cheat,
and I finally found I was just falling short.

I am always running out of time
I am running down a spiral staircase
the hands following me and spinning in a way I can't quite describe
besides quick and skilled because it goes on forever
I can hardly take a break
before the hands catch back up to me
and I am on the run again.

Had fire rained from the sky,
and had you asked me to save you from the heat,
I would have thrown you out in an instant.
I would have watched you burn.

They push
ME
they pull
ME
but they belong to
HE
I wish
HE
would stop hurting
ME

Burning tongue,
I lie.

The wrongs are my rights,
the control I had was my vice.

Maybe through my destruction,
people will learn to respect me,
and maybe I'll learn to care.

Maybe.

I am the duality of man,
I am a quiet voice and a loud roar.
I am hate and love in one person,
I am sadness, happiness,
I am two in one...

I am split down the middle but sewn together.

Today I held my sword above my head,
no man with wisdom can save me now
the world decided to fight against me
but my will is strong
my rage grows
and I control this place.

I
control
this place.

when i think ive gotten past it
it creeps back up
it wraps its tendrils around me
a suffocating vice...

please help me cut away
before i disappear.

You promise with a tongue of ***** and a brain of fuzz,
that you're not annoyed,
that you are busy...

I understand the business,
but a hate for me burns low,
a hate for me builds up to a roaring inferno,
a hell that escapes you at the worst of times.

Just tell me you don't want me.

Anger was my passion,
the pen I was given to show it was my voice,
but oh, the times when I used it irresponsibly,
an abuse to the power I was given...
though it could have been used for good despite it's rep,
I used my anger for a stereotype,
I used it to push away.

Today a man showed me a way to be happy
it was the path of flowers and birds sang,
but my hateful nature will not allow
for me to be swept away by lies...
what a funny man he was,
too bad his preachings fell on deaf ears,
too bad I chose war.

the way my lips felt after a kiss from you,
a spark that I can never find with anyone else
the way your hand felt with mine,
my stress like ice under the skin of my hands while yours were a warm summer sun to melt it away
the way you spoke to me,
your words gentle like a breeze I know from places too far gone to remember...
your touch was gentle, and
if I didn't know any better,
I would say maybe I could feel it again,
but life is cruel, and liking me was your mistake.

But I will always wait anyway,
even if they day we get back together
happens to be never.

Dear White Lies I was told as a child,
though you came from the mouths of people I trusted the most,
still I was betrayed by you.
You came in the form of
“I love you,”
and “you’ll be okay,”
and “I’ll never leave.”
You were sharper than a knife and you twisted at my heart
until finally it bled out onto a paper that would never be read by anyone else but you and I.
I trashed a note that would make more of you enter into my brain
and grow until finally you looked down upon me
as if I were nothing more than a bug
compared to you.

Rip me open,
rip rip rip,
until you see nothing but a shock of white,
my stuffing spills out onto the floor,
and now you have a mess to clean up,
and I am oddly empty.

Licking tears away with your warmth,
your sunshine dries them,
maybe they will taste good to you.

You wrap your icy fingers around my petals,
around me,
and you squeeze squeeze squeeze,
until I escape and hide inside,
and warm myself by the fire,
safe in my flowerpot.

Hello,
dear sky,
dark and gloomy sky,
hopefully tonight your clouds will part,
and the stars will show from above.

You have your ways,
your sunshine-y ways
you are perfect,
you are bright,
you are true.
Though we haven't talked too long,
I will say that I love you.

I miss him most at nighttime,
when I cannot see him,
when he sinks below the ground,
and I cannot see him.

During the daytime,
he shines bright,
and his warm embrace is thrown upon me.
despite his being so far away.

And I feel his love no matter the time of day.

I sat under a tree,
it felt like sunshine,
it felt like smiles from him.
I sat under that tree every day in the summer,
come fall it didn't feel the same,
come winter it was cut down,
and come spring I planted a new one.

No matter how bright the sunlight is,
and no matter how much I love it,
he cannot save me from destruction,
self destruction...
words at their finest still hurt...
so I will wilt away,
decay,
and nobody will ever find me.

Because you shine so brightly
and I will follow you forever
I will likely get sunburn,
but this time I don't mind so much.

In love with sunshine
so far away,
yet if I try hard enough I can feel it,
maybe this will last,
maybe this will last.

as easily as I fall in love
I fall out
as if I'm going off a cliff
and as if the sky is falling with me

the sunshine follows me
no matter how far down I go
the sun will go where I go
dare I fall for him too.