everyone tells you of the terrible twos
but no one warns you of the teens that haunt you
you lie there alone, all warm in your bed
as bouts of depression dance through your head

you walk through the halls, life a hazy grey
as you wish those demons would just go away
anxiety haunts you, you tell your psychiatrist so near
as you wish you could just walk out of the rear

pills and pills in little orange bottles
“this will help you i'm sure! it's the new model!”
you cant help but feel that no one can comprehend
that you, a child, is so near the end

you cant feel anymore, they whisper in your ear
closer and closer the demons grow near
you feel so trapped, as you cannot breathe
you sit down on the floor “not again” you seethe

they’re called panic attacks, your therapist tells you
these happen a lot, and they are hard to live through
your friends they try hard, to get you to smile
you do as you are told, this goes on for a while

you realize when all is gone and all is done
when you wished you were dead, **the demons had won

I'd give anything to read how an author describes me.
An author writes his characters as a wonder, a shining beacon of light, almost inhuman.
Really these characters - brave, smart, kind - are just like us.
Just like me.
So I want to know:
Am I brave?
Am I kind?
Am I smart?
Am I passive or active?
Am I intriguing or impressive?
Inspiring or insightful?
Amazing or attractive?
Strong or beautiful?
You know all these words.
You read all these words.
How an author writes his characters
With adjectives that seem inhumanly possible to describe anyone on this earth
Especially yourself.
But they could be used to describe you
And you just don't know it
That's why I'd give anything to read an author's description of me.
I need to know.
What adjectives paint the picture of me?

As I stare into the black space,
I am surrounded by the sea of pitch
That overcomes my body with tremulous waves,
As my wavering heartbeat
Flickers like a flame in a downpour.
Nothing is clear.
The pitch is in my eyes and
As hard as I try to blink it away,
It consumes me until all I see is the blackness.
My limbs succumb to the numbness
While my soul is tossed around
Like a rag doll in a tornado,
Stuck in the same circular, shadowy pattern
Until it emerges,
Mangled and ugly.  
The shadow of the Hope I had in earlier hours
Has disappeared, melting in this
Disdainful, tormenting pitch.
It's seeping into my skin now,
Drowning me as I claw at my throat,
Desperate for a way out.
But the inevibility of it making its way to my heart is clear.
It'll form an incasing around it,
For that is its pattern,
To wait for the miner to chip it away.
But his chisel will eventually pierce my heart,
And the pitch will return.
It'll surround me and blind me.
It'll choke me until it's made its way to my heart.
And every time, he'll come back,
He'll let me breathe air for a little while,
But though the miner's heart is strong,
The pitch is a part of me now,
And my flame of a heartbeat is withering softly.

Darling, your touch, elegant,
like a soft petaled flower,
transfixes me in place,
and your scent drives me mad.

Warm sweet tastes,
like nectar, sugar drops,
trail across my skin.

Those flavors, refreshing,
like honeysuckle on a Summer afternoon,
bold and vibrant like the Sun,
coat my lips like morning dew.

My heart flutters,
like a hummingbird, fast,
and the only thought tormenting me,
is the desire to relive it again.

Maybe sometimes it feels like everyone's against you.
But you keep trying to mend your shattered pieces to keep walking down these roads without dropping anything too valuable.
So you keep asking yourself if this life is really worth it.
It is.
But you keep wondering because you feel so alone.
Maybe it's because you can't seem to get the shards back in the right places so you end up bleeding out.
Save yourself.
Be the light.
Stop letting the darkness swallow you whole.
And you think to yourself, if this life has taught me anything, it's that no matter how alone you are, no matter how far gone you think you are, there will always be light.
Find the good in the bad.
Make your own history.
And maybe in the meantime you'll find yourself along the way.
But believe me when I say, everything will end up okay.

Let's travel the world and make new experiences.
See places we've never seen before.
Swim oceans, climb mountains, or maybe just walk around a field chock-full of wild flowers.
Your hand in my hand.
No regard for time.
Just you and me.
In our tiny little piece of universe.