I'm sure I did it again
Don't ask me how.
I ask myself this,
and I come up with a list
That is twenty miles long,
Listing everything,
Yet blank,
Just as confused as I.

I don't quite know,
If it was my insanity or yours
That shoved us away.
Maybe a bit of both?
Maybe it was neither.
Maybe you got sick of me,
I know I'm quite annoying
And I have to many flaws.
How did you ever put up with me?!

Maybe it was you,
Maybe we're just too different now.
But it wasn't your fault,
You've done nothing wrong.
You never do.

You can come back,
Anytime.
There will always be a spot for you.
Because you were great.
Funny and silly,
And even when you weren't
I felt nice near you.
And I know you're having problems,
I know too well,
For I read it in your poems,
And it hurts.
I want to help,
But only if I'm wanted,
Because in all those poems,
About people you like and love,
People who you need around
None are about me.

Please come back,
The table will feel empty.
I will feel a little empty.
I miss you.

Soft Hello's
Quiet so no one can hear,
Quick smiles and laughs,
Brief so no on can see.

Whispered Hello's,
Soft smiles,
Bursting giggles,
Warm bubbles,
The sweetest caress,
The shyest
I Love You,
That echo's around the place,
Under the road,
Where only we go.

Bright eyes,
When I grin,
And whisper back,
I Know.
Take your hand in mine
And continue counting the
Cars passing by.

Soft and whispered,
So no one can see or hear,
What is only ment,
For our eyes and our ears.

Oh glasses,
Dear glasses,
Why do you hate me so?

I wear you,
I clean you,
I keep you safe!
I buy you soft cloths,
And a pretty little case!

But when I read,
Write,
Draw,
Play,
On anything that projects light,
You become mirrors,
In which people can see,
Everything Im doing,
On my glowing electronics screen.

Im
   quickly
           falling
                 off
                     my
                        broken
                          chipp­ed
                                  wall.
                      ­                  One                
                                             side
                                                 holds
                                                       the
                                                           same
                                                            ­    hell
                                                        ­             as
                                                              ­          before,
                                               ­                      The
                                                             ­  other
                                                          h­olds
                                                     great
                                       uncertainty.
                                      I
            ­               can't
                     decide          
                 where
                 I
               want
                     to
                         .
                       .
                     .
                        .
                          Fall.

When Moonlight wens upon the moore
And Starlight knocks upon your door.
When thrums the hum of Faerie Wings
And the Harpen sound of Elfen strings.
Accompanied by dark Dwarven drums
The music of the night doth come.

A Shaman tends with Force of Night
A Silver Sword of fierce Light.
The wounds flow. The battle bounds
Thunder of Hooves upon the ground.
Tirelessly on the battles fight
But fades away in Mornings light.

And now that morning light is near
I arise from sleep with vision clear.
And the webs of tiredness
Fall from my eyes.
My new day begins
Under the skies…...JMF 11/9/14

I’m constantly tottering on the wall of It’ll Get Better and Suicidal,  whispering to both

" How?”

How can anything get better, but how could I take my life and any chance that it will?

When I was in sixth grade a test asked me what I wanted to do after highschool, and I didn’t know how to answer because..

I didn’t even plan on living past highschool.

So I filled in the buubble beside other, and when my teacher took me outside the classroom to ask that godforsaken question Why?,

I fibbed and said college wasn’t for me, and that I wouldn’t need it for my dream job.

I didn’t mention that I couldn’t afford college, or my suicide plan, or the fact that I had no dreams.

Now, not long after, I’m intent on breaking myself until I shatter, desperate to feel anything after I died inside so long ago and left a scarred shell behind that walks and talks and laughs and smiles, but most of all hides and cries.

I’ve tried suffocating myself. I tried drowning myself. I dont cut simply because I can’t find a blade.

I have dreams but I’m constantly assured by EVERYONE I won’t be anything special I nod and change the topic because I know.

<p>I’m abused and home and I know I deserve it, every nasty truth they sneer before saying they love me and sending me away, every hit that lands hard enough to hurt but either smartly hidden or delivered in a way I won’t bruise.  I’m breaking,

With few things giving me happiness, and humans bringing me pain with nasty looks and cruel words that hurt so bad but I nod and agree.

My friends don’t even know how much it hurts me to hang around them, as my darkest demons whisper how much happier they would be without me.

But selfishly I cling to them.

I need help but I dont deserve it, and I’m so, so sorry to whoever read this that I bothered you.

But again tonight I'll whisper to both sides.
How can it get better?
How can it get worse?