On my own here we go
Im exhausted and im confused
Im real used to getting used
My heart beats fast
I cant sit still
I forgot to take my pills
Oh my god here we go
Dissociation is my home
Disconnected from my bones
I used to love getting ******
My mind is killed
By my whims and wills
All alone take me home

Maybe I wish I wasn't wrong so often.
Especially when I feel a lot like I'm right.

When I'm with my friends,
It's easy to tell what they do,
And why.

With people I'm getting to know,
I notice things most people don't,
Although sometimes I presume people do.

It's weird that I can do all that,
But I can't even tell if you like me or not.

And now I feel stupid,
Because you don't quite feel the same.

Be happy,
My friends say.
It's not like he hates you.

And I know that.
We're friends,
And I know you.

But that doesn't mean
I enjoy being wrong.

And maybe it's hard to admit it sometimes,
When you're wrong it just doesn't feel right.
But sometimes you are,
And you have to admit it.

Even if you hate being wrong.

While we were friends, I was happy, I loved my life.
But after you left me broken I was almost alone. The one who kept me company was the voice in my head.
It would tell me all the horrible things you’ve done to me, slowly distancing us until our bond was broken beyond repair. Then it left for a while, leaving me all alone, my only companion this journal.
I talked to you once in class and the voice returned, warning me of how you treated me. Warning me of the broken state it made me come to.
So I’m sorry, I’m sorry the voice got the best of me. But as I sit here writing, still alone, I wonder how much of it could be true.

Firmly pressed,
Lips on lips.
Hungry for more.

Eagerness and expectation fulfilled by
Nibbled lips, dancing tongues, and gnashing teeth.

   Lightheaded.
      Breathless.

Consuming you is consuming me.

Let the candle burn at both ends,
In the middle the flame will *****, then
                 COMBUST.

At our core, we are explosive--
Fiery passion, life, and love.

Kiss me, and I'll show you.

The fireflies appear in my sleep.
In black and white with a kaleidoscope scheme.
The staticky canvas such a sight to see.
With lights and forms of a parasitic scene.
I suppose it was all a dream?
I suppose when I close my eyes, I look for hope, a night that please.

Pineapple makes the roof of my mouth itch / and the tips of my fingers to blush pink / offset by the sparkle sticking juice / these are the kinds of things / reminding me of poolsides /

I can’t leave the way / sunwaves on pavement on skin / sinking into the meat of my body / and under my eyelids / that sigh closed / to the red glow lid / feeling / there’s a twisting shape of my hips / as they flutter in dance / I want to ignore everything but the night sounds / and whisper of lips on iced drinks

I ask myself to leave the patios of mid summer / to check the curtains that slap / and I know what kind of person I need to be / and the sounds of music from another room / spilled like sticky pineapple on your hand / you’re finding you / don’t really want to wash off that other you off / it’s just only these kinds of dreams / making these kinds of noises

Pain
At the age of 14, the world lost a beautiful boy.
Living in a world of survival.
Things are never easy.
And slowly he found peace.
Ending. Ending. Ending
Words hurt. Like a tattoo etched on the skin, forever it will remain.  
My child, please do not let your grades define you.
A great pain must be felt.
May you rest in peace.
You are in the arms of a better place.

Loss
Mother, do not blame yourself.
Father too.
For it is not your fault for not doing enough.
Please know that he loves you very much.
We may loose a loved one and its hard to move on.
But remember we must keep the good memories with us.
We must not forget them.

Sadness
When I heard the news, I felt numb, weak..
Tears slowly falling.
Grades is such a big thing. I used to care about them too.
Now, growing up I realized that it does not define who I really am.
In fact it does not measure my capacity of knowledge.
However, the sadness remains.