i want to squeeze my brain like a pimple
until it pops
and my mental illness spurts out
like ****
onto my ceiling

They say that when you're running, locking your eyes on a distant object makes it easier to push through until the end.

That far away object holds no real power over you. It can't heal your aching muscles or replenish your lungs of much needed oxygen. It somehow just... makes it easier.

Maybe that object is where you've decided you want to end your run next week; and maybe you've already got your next object picked out. This is good. This is ideal.

Maybe the object is your bottle of water, sitting on the ground at the end of your driveway, and maybe you're only trying this hard because you're driven by thirst. This is not ideal. But creating motivation may be a step in the right direction.

Maybe the object is of no significance and maybe you're only looking because without that object... without something to cling on to... you may not make it to the end. Quitting is not an option. This is the best you're doing given the circumstances. These circumstances are not ideal. But what you're doing is good. You will not stop.

Regardless of the motivation, or lack of motivation
You lock on.
You cling to it.
You Don't. Stop. Running.

My empathy is making me sick but
What he's screaming at her is true...
It's hurtful. Mean.
But true.
I hate myself for agreeing,
I hate him for saying it.

I'm being pushed and pulled
Not sure how to feel.
What's right?
What's wrong?
How am I supposed to deal?

"I feel like I shouldn't even be breathing around here" she says

I always knew I was like her

"You can hope it gets better
you can follow your dreams
But hope is for presidents
And dreams are for people
who are sleeping"

im so alone
i am so
alone

My chest is a hollowed out shell.
The life that was once inside is now gone,
And the pieces of me that are left
Are screaming for a release.

One day I will walk out of that door
and never walk back in

I didn't ask to be born.

It doesn't come easy
Or without any pain,
A struggle,
Wanting to give up

You have to push through
until the end

When you're falling in a forest and nobody's around

It doesn't crash
Or even make a sound

Nothing is left untouched
It all leads me back to the same
Terrible terrible place

"I have a gun just like the one used to **** John Lennon"

The gun was handed over to me

I held the small unloaded revolver in my right hand, my index finger caressing the trigger as my other fingers tightly gripped the handle.

Pinched between my left thumb and index finger was a single bullet.
imagined how large hole in my temple could be.
I slid the bullet into place.


Pause


Dumped the bullet back into my hand.
Placed gun down
Shook off the thought of suicide

Turned to my brother

"No wonder it always took so long to reload on call of duty hahaha"

Causal.

It'd be easier to just float away

I don't know if this makes me weak or strong

Or selfish or selfless

I don't know if I'm right or wrong

I imagine it would be like the silence after you turn off the music

Please god make it stop

It's funny that the
         smallest things
                       Push me          
                                            Over
                                                             The
                                                                               Edge

Sometimes I wish that
I could go back in time
and beg my mother not
To birth me into this world

Because if I had never
Been born, then nobody
Would ever let me hurt them,
Or be burdened by my presence

And I wouldn't feel this way
Right now, or late at night
When I'm all alone
Begging for some type of release

I want to be a balloon
So I can just float away from
Everyone, and even myself.
Because eventually, all balloons *pop

In the past, when the present would become too heavy
I'd throw myself into the idea of a distant future
That future was bright and hopeful
Because I always pictured being loved by someone else
In a home decorated to fit our taste
With little plants that'd never go unwatered
And a kitchen where I'd make all my favorite foods

But most importantly, in my little future, I was happy because someone loved me and was there to pick up the pieces when I fell apart.
And maybe that's why I'm so unhappy right now
Not because no one loves me
Because even in my fantasies, in the most sunshiny and optimistic crooks of my brain, my happiness was still dependent on the romantic love of another person

How is it that I've become this way?
That I place my self worth in how other people perceive me?
Worst of all, I'm picky about who determines my worth

I don't want love handed out to me, no no
Because I don't trust it! I don't trust that someone could love me
without a struggle after knowing me and seeing me for who I am
So when someone does love me, I question it constantly
I get angry with myself
and that's no way to live.

How am I to allow myself to be loved without restraint if I can't even love myself?

So now, my safe haven will be
Bright and hopeful,
An apartment decorated to fit my taste...
and the taste of four other girls, with whom I'll be living
Fake plants because none of us are mature enough to keep a real one alive, and that's okay right now
A kitchen where I'll cook easy meals because I'm young and have **** to do
Most importantly,

In this future, I will be loved.
Because I am going to learn to love myself.

One becomes four
Four becomes one,
Then one on one,
One on air
One on one...
on one.. on one

Won't be long till one becomes nothing

The smaller your world the more miserable you become

chacos
messy bun
brown hair
brown eyes
baking a pie
holding hands in the grocery aisles
contagious laughter
an amazing actor
the kindest smile
the warmest cuddles
playing the bass
kissing my face
reading hallmark cards
petting her dogs in the yard
giving me an encouraging squeeze on my arm

It's like having boulders tied to your ankles
a voice constantly telling you that you're not strong enough
That going the distance won't even be worth it in the end

"I didn't want him to feel bad about this. I wanted him to see the obvious, that it's okay for him to let me go. He's been through so much, and he's finally through it. He needs to not have me around to worry about anymore. He needs me to free him to be brilliant" (Garth 5).

My hands grip the wheel tightly
Complete sobriety
My eyes are on the road
Yet I have no control of the vehicle
I swerve and wreck into building after building.
The buildings sustain no damage.
I hit and bounce off, into the next structure
Over and over
I resist out of fear but I can't put my foot on the brake
The water is approaching
Nothing stops me from plunging in,
My car sinking with me trapped inside
My only thought being that everyone's going to be so mad at me

I'm so tired
the solutions are laid out in front of me
so easily obtainable
yet i'm filled with uncertainty

I can't seem to grasp it
such simple concepts
go to class, don't eat like crap
put the drink down, stop smoking grass

go to the gym three times a week
and treat your body kindly
oh but you shouldn't go if you're there
with a mentality that's unhealthy

Spend time with friends
don't you dare let yourself isolate
ignore the empty feeling in your chest
struggle to play along and relate

maybe sit on that familiar ole' bench
learn a new song on piano!
hear yourself out of tune
belting out your sorrows

slam your fingers on the keys
try to drown out the voices in your head
screaming at you to ******* give it up already
because what you're saying is better left unsaid.

cover the keys, push in the bench
storm out of the beige colored building
clench your fists, try to stop the tears
hope to god that no one is watching

walk back to your tiny room
pace back and forth
you can make it go away for now
but that'll only make it worse

wonder what the **** is wrong
and why you can't seem to cope
think of the things you used to love
that now you're broken with no hope

lay in bed, feel like ****
know you'll do it all again tomorrow
push back thoughts of the "one step solution"
that would only cause my loved ones problems

fall asleep late, wake up early
make that daily morning decision
will you lay in bed and mope around
or face this day with optimism

get up, take your meds
climb up to the top of the mountain
struggle to survive the inevitable fall
your depression sends you tumbling

down
            down
                          down

boom crash
you've hit the ground.
time to do it all again.
keep your hopes up high

my brain feels like unsalted scrambled eggs

what are you to do
when you're walking down a hall
gray walls, gray floor, gray ceiling
no texture at all

the hall is long
like one of those assignments they make you do
in your highschool art class
where you draw two lines
that start with some distance between them
but as you drag your pencil across the paper
you angle the lines inward towards one another
maybe to create a road or
a hallway with checkered floors
and doors that you never angle quite right

but my hallway
is just... gray
and drawn out, it seems that the hall never stops
all i can think
all i can feel right now
is that i'll drag my feet step by step
through this bland bland hallway
and when i reach the end of the drawing
the illusion that it continues
i'll just leap off the paper

I want to laugh

there are so many wedges in my time line
i hate that i'll just be another wedge in yours

they're happy to see me
and I just feel guilty

Please

rarely, i feel on top of the world
most times times i am... on the bottom of the world?
i am... under the weather. blue. uh. having a bad time

sometimes i swear i could climb a mountain because why not? im already pretty up there.
when other times, i can barely manage to plant my feet firmly on the ground for long enough to say that i got out of bed that day.

there are highs and lows, but usually i am just grey.
regardless of what kind of day or hour or minute it is... i am alive

and no matter the altitude

the feeling is all the same

meh