She locked herself up in her room during the summer
until her skin turned pale white.

She dyed her hair red and let her Mom braid it
until her hair became long and mermaid-like.

She was a young girl who had always
believed in fairytales—
the only thing that gave out what "the meaning of life" could be.

She says she's going to find Prince Charming and
 he’s going to be everything she wants him to be.

She turned every page day to day waiting
for someone to save her from all the woes
the world has cast down upon her.

She waited until she was struck by reality with
demons in her mind and never being loved became her fear.

thousands of kids enter the school
I crouch in the corner, trapped
my limbs shake and my heart races

my mom wants to buy a new purse
I shrink away, run to the door
my legs wont move but my mind runs

my best friend didn't call me back
does she need help? does she hate me?
my last meal is being flushed away

*Generalized Anxiety

How awful it is to lay numb on your bed late at night & think about someone who isn't thinking about you.
How awful it is to dream about someone but wake up alone.
How awful it is to remember everything about someone who doesn't even remember your name.
How awful it is to write about someone who never wrote about you.
Awful, that's how it feels.
Wasted time, wasted years.
How awful it is to sit here and type your name but hitting the backspace button because typing your name gets me nowhere.
This poem is getting me nowhere, and that's an awful feeling.
But it is not as awful as thinking about you.

Eyes are covered
Hands are bound
Sound has been silenced
Numbness washes over every inch of skin and tissue
Sorrow has become my air
Self pity my fuel
Misery my only companion
Locked in my mind, a move replays over and over
Reliving every failure, every loss, every disappointment, every lie
Drowning in what if
Suffocating in the darkness of the past
The light of day brings no joy, only aggravation
The endless chatter of the world becomes a sting to my heart
A torture to endure.
A overwhelming tug at my heart strings
A feeling of future turmoil
The pit of my stomach physically hurts, Pain
Waiting for an impending doom
Lost without a shred of hope
Why has my faith betrayed me?
Why can't I shake this feeling?
Feels as if I am living in a nightmare never able to awake.

9th February.
I suppose it should hold special meaning,
Or coloured dinosaur eggs
But it's merely volcano silt.
Washing out a year and bringing in a brand new blandness I don't need.
It'll be the celebration day of my birth in just a week
Everyone has forgotten,
Too wrapped up in their own brain mazes;
Everyone forgets,
Mauve poison daggers seeping through memories
Forgetting;
Mostly warm summer days,
Mostly the southerly change at night
Mostly February ninth.

Everyone's forgotten me.

I am 26 letters more empty,
Than I was yesterday.
This world is the constant dripping of a tap,
Drilling into my skull one millimetre at a time.
This world is safely wrapped in bubble wrap,
Beautifully shattered from the inside.
We have thousands of bubbles to pop,
One god ****** pope at a time.
Interfering personal spaces,
Dancing wildly on the edges of dust.
We sit and rust on O2 particles
Kissing dreams of lust as our bones cuss.