When things go wrong as they some times will
When the road you're trudging seems all uphill
When the funds are low and the debts are high
And you want to smile but you have to sigh
When care is pressing you down a bit
Rest if you must but dont quit

Life is queer with its twists and turns
As everyone of us sometimes learns
And many a fellow turns about
When he might have won had he stuck out
Dont give up though the pace seems slow
You may succeed with another blow

Often the goal is nearer than
It seems to a faint and faltering man
Often the struggler has given up
When he might have captured the victors cup
And he learned to late when the night came down
Oh how close he was to the golden crown

Success is failure turned inside out
The silver tint of the clouds of doubt
And you never can tell how close you are
It may be near when it seems afar
Hence stick to the fight when your hardest hit

For its when things seem worst that you must never
Q U I T.

I am an individual responsible for my beliefs.
Responsible for the way I wear my hair or if I brush my teeth.
Individuals watching me, judged by jobs I can't keep.

Kids responsible to read, get good grades.
Even when ma and pa weren't there to praise
preoccupied with their financial raise.

So I raised my hand and asked to go to the bathroom
where I fixed my hair to avoid disastrous measures.
Nobody wants to get the wrong answer.

I am an individual responsible for my beliefs and the habitual liquor I drink.

Responsible for the way I phrase my words.
Regardless what they heard won't make them think about
their own decisions

and the tinted glass we all look through the
sinking depositions in court accusing a man as a monster
whose really a victim of the system.

american predisposition.

I am an individual responsible for my beliefs.
Disregard all opportunity to challenge what I think.
We all woke up on a road where
Signs said this way goes home
Said this way isn't wrong
Said look around and see where you belong.

I am an individual responsible for my beliefs but my individuality is regurgitating the messages around me and I am having a hard time taking full responsibility.

We are just sitting and waiting.
Waiting for our lives to begin.
Our standards are too high.
The stories we hear are too grand.
It's some days we see our lives are going no where frighteningly quick.
So we try and ***** out the "normal" like flame on a wick.
We are hungry for adventure and end up starving.
I've asked myself numerous times, "Why not me? Why?"
I see the same look though in everyone else, I see the "why" in their own craving eye.
No one gets a story. No one gets a tale, and the few of us that try only get new tears to collect for lost dreams.
You can thank the silver screen for this stigma folks.
We shoot for the stars and just look like jokes.
So don't keep trying to one-up reality.
We're all here for the long run.
If you keep on trying you'll end up like me.
All I have is a cocktail of confusion and sadness in the cavity where my heart was yet now I place my lack of purpose.

Pull your hair out, pull your ******* hair out.
Punch yourself in the face you ******* deserve it.
Can't breathe again.
Weights pressing down on your chest.
**** not again, no not again.
Gonna say something you regret-
Don't ******* text him, don't do it.
******* did it.
Great, now your relationship will probably be over.
Everything feels over, everything is ending.
I want everything to end...

The tears stream down my face
the lungs I use to breathe are the only things holding me back
these hands I use to write are gripping the pavement again
because I don't think I've ever felt so low.
But just yesterday I was on such an endorphin high
I was running in the rain until my socks were
just puddles below my feet
the sky was just an outline of the child I used to be
and now everything feels so ******* temporary-
you can't catch your breath long enough to tell yourself
everything will be okay and somehow earlier today
you were doing just fine.
But these hand clutch your skull again
as you pull your hair-
hoping you are ripped to shreds
because you are trapped inside yourself
a prisoner of your own body and it will never leave
everyday you fight harder to survive
but it seems like each ******* episode gets worse.
Every mistake makes you feel worse-
every mis-autocorrected word on your phone is like
someone punching you in the throat
and you somehow let that control you and you breakdown-
throw your phone and it crashes at the wall again.
You hate yourself for these things you can't control.
Everyday is a battle you can't win
and everything falls to the ground again-
including yourself.
There is a city upon your shoulders now
and it seems your mind is only building it even higher-
you wished you could throw it off but it's getting too heavy now.
All you can do is sit and wait for it to crush you from the inside out-
slowing breaking you down one missed phone call
and un-replied text message at a time
you are breaking down.
All the help you once searched for has gone out of business
and the man on the inside ran away because it was too much to handle-
you've always been to much to handle.
But those days when everything seems wonderful come-
those days when the hands you possess seem like shooting stars
making your every wish come true again-
you are invincible.
Nights spent laughing at four walls encased with your sense of humor
and indulging yourself because everything seems so good again.
But you remember this won't last too long and your back-
back to agitation inside your bones and the war inside your head,
city on your shoulders you are crushed under the weight.

Some days it feels as if all I need is myself to make me happy-
some days it's this same self that brings me so much misery.
Other days I'm just myself, getting by like everyone else.
Then on the worst days, they all hold hands and become friends
they all form a clique and I become a target for misplaced aggression.
My manic depression is a bully, 6pm traffic jams-
and spills on your new t-shirt.
My manic depression is a sugar high, 3pm mid day naps
and waking up just in time for McDonald's breakfast.  
My manic depressions is nirvana and insanity
it holds my hand across busy streets-
but will also never let go of me.

I just want to explain how I feel.
My throat is tight and each breath I take I have to spend extra time trying to make sure I can actually breathe.
Sometimes, I can't.
Sometimes, I try to breathe but it won't work and I get dizzy. I feel dead. Numb.
I try so hard just to breathe and it doesn't work.
I want to talk. I wish I could say everything I want to say. But it's really hard to talk when you can't breathe.
I want to love. I want the feelings that I know I used to have back. I want all my feelings back. But, nowadays it's as if I can't feel a thing. Numb.
I tried to cry. For 2 hours. I wanted to know I was still alive, that I was still a person with air and lungs and feelings. No tears came out. I never cried. I want to so bad. I don't know if I am even alive anymore.
But I want to be.
God, I want to live so bad.
I used to think I wanted to die. I used to tell myself I wanted to vanish from life and be gone forever.
I don't..
I want to live. It is so exhausting to want to live. Have you ever wanted to live?
Does anyone, anywhere, want to live?
I can't live. I've been trying for so long and I'm so exhausted. I'm so over it. I am so over wanting to live. Please.