Putting up walls
makes a house
a home

Until you find homes
inside people
and people
make homes
out of you...

they said that
"what doesn't
**** you
makes you
stronger",

and even though
you didn't
**** me,
you sure
left me
feeling dead

What more can you get from people that have given up on you

what more can you do if they still refuse to understand the things you're going through even if you tried so many ways, and used so many words to explain

what more can you hope for when you screams for help are seen as whinings of a small child

What more can they give you... except heartaches?

it is the attention i will beg for because silence scares me
the voices in my head are demons and they just won't leave me alone please don't leave me alone they won't leave me alone

it is the lack of trust i will have in you because every single thing i have grown to love, leaves
my mind is far too noisy and they scream in languages i do not understand
but it is not completely foreign, i know they are telling me to walk away

it is the time i will always demand for
because the dark scares me, it always has
learning to live in the dusty corners of your head does not teach you how to no longer be afraid,
it only teaches you to scream and jump every time there is a silent movement, a little tweak

it is the love i will keep questioning
i am so sorry my sadness loves me more than you will ever be able to
she gets jealous every time my attention is drawn to another being that she creeps me
she will wake me even in my deepest sleep to remind me that she, never leaves

it is the reassurance that i will constantly need
i know you were there the last 8 times i laid stone cold on the bathroom floor, not being able to move
but where were you the other one time i couldn't get out of bed


to love me is to love my depression
to love me is to love my scars
to love me is to watch me destroy myself over and over again but to stay
to love me is to hold me when i scream at you to leave me, it is not me it is my head it is not me it is my head it is not me
it is
my head

He doesn’t look dangerous
He has soft skin
And baby cheeks
And playfully wavy auburn hair
And his saturated turquoise eyes
Look so honest
And his hugs are like marshmallows
And his hands are so warm
And his smile is like sunlight

Sure, he doesn’t look dangerous
But his eyes lie
And his hands are warm from
Holding so many other hands
And he has a sharp brain
And he isn’t afraid to use it
And he has a distant heart
And a mouth of manipulation
And hungry teeth
And a poisonous bite

He doesn’t look dangerous
And he knows that
But he is dangerous
You just don’t know it yet
-a.h.