I. you don't even know who you are yet, but you still have to stand on top of buildings and scream what you stand for. people won't hear your values unless you write it on their skin and tattoo it into their minds, so that’s what you’ll do.

II. you aren't vain or stupid for idolizing singers with blonde hair and blue eyes, because they look like you, and yet they’re strong and beautiful. it’s okay when you connect to their music then you connect to your favorite boy band. they’ll teach you how your resident ******* means nothing compared to you. they’ll teach you how to winged eyeliner, and how to put your hair in a messy bun. they’ll teach you a new love for songwriting and you’ll probably want to start playing guitar, but the biggest thing is that you relate to them and they give you confidence.

III. wear your ******* choker and straighten your hair (or leave it wavy if you’d rather). wear your dark eyeliner and cover your eyelashes with mascara. if you want to wear blue knee high socks, please do. keep your hipster shoes untied if you want. ignore the ******* who thinks you look nice but not in the right way, and go buy that dark lipstick you've been wanting for weeks.

IV. don’t trust the people that tell you Taylor Swift has too many boyfriends, and that Beyonce dances too ******. they are the people that will criticize you for wearing a crop top and ripped jeans. they’ll pull you out of math class to change out of your short shorts, and you’ll be forced to watch as the boys you were ‘distracting’ succeed in class while you’re crying in the middle of the night trying to catch up.

V. take more pictures of the scenery. those pink clouds you thought were pretty deserve to be photographed, so do it. they won’t always be around and you have to follow your instincts sometimes.  stop taking so many pictures at concerts. they don’t really mean anything to you, and it’s more important to listen to the music that helps you breathe. cry when they sing your favorite song, and feel your dreams expanding as you watch.

VI. please take care of yourself. when you need help, ask for help, or everything will spiral out of control too quickly. get enough sleep and stick up for yourself when you’re being pushed down. stop caring what other people think, because you’re really the only one that matters. when you’re sad go do what makes you happy, because even if it doesn't make you grin from ear to ear it will help. always remember to love yourself before you let someone else love you.

the universe is spilling its secrets,
but you're not here to see it.
i guess you rubbed off on everyone
because i keep seeing you
everywhere.
there's a new song by your
favorite band, and you aren't
here to listen to it.
but i don't understand how it's not
about you, every single lyric
bleeds you just like every
single cloud in the sky
bleeds you.
so maybe the universe
is spilling all it's secrets
but i don't want to know
any of them unless it tells
me where you are.

stop.
put that ******* alcohol down
i just want to look into your eyes
without seeing the ghost of your
past trying to drown itself,
because this isn't an ocean, and
i'm not an angel.

i don't understand why the
sky is still lit up,
it's 12 o'clock and the sun
should be asleep but you're crying
and i'm shaking and we're a mess
on the floor.

you're not really broken you're
just pretending.  you
don't even know how to breathe
without an official diagnosis,
but you're not broken and you
have to stop hiding.

you know i love you,
but you're hiding and you
know how much i hate it
when we play hide and seek.

now it's 1am, and the sun's about
to come out (who knows why).
the dog next door is barking,
he must have heard your echoing
sobs and felt the emotion radiating
from our house.

but i can't stay awake for another
second so you have to let go,
and you have to help yourself
because i can't even handle
putting the coffee on in the morning.

maybe in the morning you'll be
stronger, and maybe you won't
but either way we can still do this,
i still want
to hold
you.

it's 3am,
and you're sitting over there,
with bruises covering
your body and you came to
me for help, and there's
nothing i can do for you
but hold you, and
you don't want me to
because my hands are
shaking and i can't seem
to reach them up to your
face,  i can only
feel the blood pounding in my ears,
and see the way your eyes
light up when you're
looking into them,
screaming and crying
for me to help you
but i don't know
how to and no one's
around and your hands are
letting go and your
breathing is getting
shallower as your tears
are getting deeper.

there's
a room full of lights,
but you're blinded
by the way your
eyes change from green
to blue, and the way your
body seems to bend
when you try to look
around you,
but your eyes aren't working
and neither is your soul,
if you keep on falling behind and
laughing at the lights on the wall.

you wore me down faster
than you wore down those
old combat boots you
found in your closet
(a relic of your dad's past
maybe, or maybe you
just hid them there
to create a mystery
behind them,
a mystery behind you.)

my skin was paper,
and you finally figured out
how to tear it.

my blood was ink,
and you finally found how
to use it to write.

and i didn't even fight against you,
because i am an empty book,
and i wanted to be filled with
something, i wanted to feel something
real, even if it was as toxic
as your breath.