I thought that if I could
Walk away from poetry
Then I would be able
To stop looking at my
Life like it's broken..
I still see the wrong
That I have done
But now I see ways
To fix them.. :)
Thank you poetry

?I grew up too fast.

When I was younger, I was taught that school is important. Im going to graduate, go to college, get a job, have a family and then my life will be complete.
I used to get so excited thinking about all of it... now It scares me.

I miss being little
I miss having a dog that was bigger than me
I miss watching cartoons on Saturday morning's instead of studying for an exam that is most of my grade.
I miss my only worries being if I got coal or candy in my stocking that year.
I miss adding a new mark on the door frame, each mark a little taller than the last.
I miss the easy homework in elementary school that seemed difficult at the time.

I remember wanting nothing more than to be one of the big kids, but now I just want to reverse the years.
When your younger the only chore you have is picking up your toys and cleaning up your messes.
When you get older you have to sweep, mop, dust, the list goes on.
When you're younger you don't have to worry about relationships because "they have cooties".
When you get older you get this idea that if you don't date anybody then you're not cool, and if you date too many people you're a who're.
But we all grow up
We all have to take responsibility, and those who don't,
fail in life

My parents warned me,
They warned me about the people I would run into, the obstacles I would have to face, the peer pressure, the school work, the discipline I would have to learn in order to become successful in life.
I always thought I had more time to prepare myself.

when you grow up, one of the many obstacles you face, is the people around you; the bullies, the teachers.
when you grow up, you are exposed to peer pressure and are given no choice but to follow the leader.
Peer pressure is a horrible thing; it can get you to smoke, to drink, to join gangs, to ruin your life.
the lucky ones are the people that are strong enough to say “No”.
when you grow up, you have this feeling of depression, of loneliness, of feeling you are not good enough; and it's horrible because we all feel it at some time, no matter how hard you try to prevent it.

when your younger the years go by slower, making it feel like time will last forever.
Then the years pass by, they start moving faster and faster,
Especially when your having fun.
Growing up isn't always horrible, there are people I'm glad that I met, memories that will always make me smile, hard times that have made me a better person, and lives that I've changed.
Im thankful
I just wish the innocence, the simplicity could have lasted a little longer.

Everything you do revolves around the word
                                                                           perfect

Everything you are is
                                    beatiful

You may not think you are gorgeous but you are.
You truly are.
You have one of the loveliest smiles I have ever seen.
You think everybody criticises how you look but they just envy it.
Your figure is perfect, and if you still don't think that then just remember how much weight you lost.
Remember when you decided nobody would ever date you.
That you thought you were hideous.
Just think of your boyfriend, and how happy he makes you.
He loves YOU for YOU.
I envy the relationships you have.
You can talk to people that live in a different state and treat them like they live a few blocks away from you.
You don't worry about the "long distance" thing
The "you-don't-really-know-what-they're-doing" thing
That's all I worry about.
You have a best friend that would go to prison for ****** just to see you happy.
She might as well be your sister :p
Oh
And if this isn't enough to make you think differently about yourself then think about this:
I love you.
I LOVE you.
I love YOU.
I don't love you for the way you look and neither shoukd anybody else.
You don't need make-up
You don't need to improve yourself
You don't need to worry about what people think about you;
But you do anyways.
You don't see that people love you, because you can't even love yourself.
You let people get to you.
I understand that is easy to do, people are mean and vicious.
They will tear you apart without even noticing it.
And you let them.
They have torn you apart and now you can't see past what they've told you.
I love you soooooo much but you lose me off at times.
Please stop looking at yourself like all those lies are true.
:) you are beatiful and that's all you need to know.

Everybody knows
that when you sleep
You drift into your mind
a little too deep
You have dreams that you like
and dreams that are scary
Dreams you wish to live
And dreams you wish to bury
Sometimes our minds
Lose control when we sleep
So we live too high
And fall too steep
Sometimes we dream
Of people in our lives
Sometimes they're decent
And sometimes they die
But what we don't understand
About these things
Is that they have a meaning
What ever that may bring

The little girl that used to be so happy is now torn to bits from the disappointment and dishonesty of the people that once grasped her trust.
Her body trembles, destroying every ounce of decency and bravery she build up for herself, crumbling to the depths of her soul like an earthquake. Her demons wave her heart on a string like bate as her only hope was to catch it and be free. Her soul in which resembles an endless pit that was dug by the people with the determination of ruining her life, their only goal to make her feel anything but human. She trembles only to cradle herself in the blood stained arms that read "broken" and "useless".
She walks the world, but does not have enough strength to hold off the judgement and infectious torment from the people around her, falling to her knees in defeet.
The strings of her heart play beautiful melodies which can only be accomponied by the sound of chalk streaking across the blackboard of the classroom in which she sits in silence, only to be bombarded by the memories of self hatred.
Her eyes tell stories of times changed and gone. The hurtful sayings of the horific beings who threw rocks at recess stain her cheeks through the long nights of the nightmares she can never form the words to describe, only to line her lips. The lips she forces into a smile everyday that insure that her loved ones don't have to worry.
She carves "I'm fine" into her brain only hoping that the words she repeats to herself will finally sink in.
Her torso scarred from his hands, expossing everything she has tried to hide. So broken, you can look through her rib cage and find the heart with the messy stitches sewn from shaking hands because she could never find anyone else to support her.
Her legs are stakes in the ground as white flags, surrendering to the pain and showing her signs of weakness. Each step she takes trying to walk out of life she does not want anymore forms another crack in her plastured exterior.
Her eyes have grown accustomed to the dark where she has been forced to hide.
Jealousy taking over her as she looks into the eyes of the beautiful beings who greet her with real smiles.
Her ears are pulled inside-out only to hear her horid thoughts.
Perfect souls greet her with kindness only to be stoped by the harsh words she repeats, creating a bubble filled with the poisonous laughter of her demons saying "you lost".
She has no choice but to stay in her bubble because she has been infected with false reality and depression, she stays to keep her loved ones safe for if she leaves her bubble then they will get hurt.
So she wears a sign around her neck that reads "dangerous" only hoping they are smart enough to walk away.

She makes me so happy that I can't explain what my life would be like without her.
She has been there for me in some pretty bad times.. even when I didn't want her to find out I was in pain.
She knows me more than I know myself.
She shows me different sides of me that I didn't know existed.
We've had some fights and there are still times when I want to bash her head in with my own fist.. but I love her death.
I would risk my life for her and I know she would do the same in return although I won't let her.
I can't stand to see her upset, it makes me feel like I have to make things better so she can be happy..
But she pushes me away so it gets harder to do.
We are inseparable.
We have been with each other since the beginning and we'll end that way.
Seeing her happy and laughing can brighten my entire day.
I am lucky to have her as a sister.
Even though I may get mad and push everyone away, I appreciate that you've never given up on me.
Thank you makayla :)

It's heartbreaking but when their are two
One must go

She's turning 84 soon.
I don't remember exactly the last time I saw her but I think it was at the funeral.
Death weighs heavy on hearts that love,
And she had become weak.
You could see it.
See it in her eyes when she cried.
You could see it in her hands.
Oh her hands.
As weird as it may be, her hands were the first thing that I remember about her.
She wore bands around every finger, like the rings of a tree truck when love has aged into something less adoring.
Yes she was a widow but she was the Queen.
Being too young for school, my sister and I went to her house every week.
And like clockwork she repeated every move she had done the day before and the one before that.
I remember how much she loved to knit and crochet.
I told her that I wanted to learn and she told me "good for you. You'll see it is very relaxing. Doing the same things, you don't really think about what you're doing anymore"
I crochet whenever I have the time and I now know what she meant.
Most times then not, I seem to day dream; thinking, about anything.
I remember her collection of books and newspapers, the bibles that she kept by her chair.
Of course they weren't of my interest but because they were to her, she would always be reading this one book.
Even when she fell asleep, she could not put the book down.
She had told me that she read it 4 times and she planed to do it again.
It was called "Julie of the Wolves"
I bought this book a few years ago and I still can't find it interesting.
It sits on my shelf, untouched, but unforgotten.
She is a babysitter, and a mother as well as a grandmother.
Family and friends were always over at her house, company was always welcome.
She had many kids, and her kids had many grandkids.
Her friends that came over so often had kids that had kids and it took me a while to realize it but,
She was old.
She is old.
She is a family tree that has grown bigger than most because of the love she spreads.
She tought me things without even realizing it.
I learned how too make the perfect peanut butter and jelly sandwich.
There wasn't too much of either and she always cut the sand which in half to help my sister and I know the good of sharing.
Almost like herself,
She wasn't too strick or too nurturing, she treated everyone equally and did nothing but that.
Its been 8 years.
Her daughter passed away, I'm still not exactly sure how or why.
It was the only funural I was ever invited to, and I cried.
I cried when I saw how hurt she was, how hurt everyone was.
I didn't understand death until that day.
I looked at Tanya's body and I realized why she was hiden under a sheet.
Its been 8 yeas since I have seen her.
I follow her on Facebook, the only way I can keep an update on her.
Death weighs heavy on hearts that love, and she has become weak.
She is fragile and old, I know this.
Its because I was just invited to her 84th surprise birthday party that I was bombarded with memories of her.
This woman has changed my life, not just by being her, for giving birth to amazing people, for introducing me the people that I know as friends today.
Her name is Charlotte, she likes to repeat things over and over again.
Sooner or later you don't even start to think about it anymore.
You just day dream, and think,
about anything.

To the guy who was there when I was born
*******.
I know your my dad and I will always love you
But some of the things you've said and done have left marks that I can't erase
To the guy who bullied me as I grew up
*******.
Your my older brother.
Your supposed to make me feel safe, feel loved.
What you did still haunts me, I will always hate you
To the guy that first caught my attention
*******.
I was taught that love was a beautiful thing.
What we had wasn't beautiful because I was the only one that had true feelings
To the guy I thought could be the one
*******.
I will always remember your name as the boy who got my hopes up
To the flirts
*******.
I never thought I looked like I enjoyed being talked to like that, apparently something made you think it was okay
To the guy who taught me over the year
*******.
Your my teacher.
You shouldn't be looking at teenage girls like that
To the guy who snuck around
*******.
Because you were with my mom, I had to be nice.
I hope you feel horrible for what you have done.
Forgiveness is given easy now
But I will never forgive you and I hope to never see your face again
To the guy who had to die
*******.
You told me that we were going to have a future together.
You were like a brother to me, one that actually treated me like a sister.
Why did you have to go?
I needed you then, and I need you now

Love her and hold her
And give her the world
Because she won't always
Be your little girl

Show                                                      That
them                                                       they
   the                                                         love
smile                                                      to see


                                  :)

Even                 ­                                          happy
     if                                                         Be
         it                                                  to
          ­    means                       pretending
                          faking it and

You'll know he's the one if his smile makes you smile.

You'll know he's the one at 2 am when you can't sleep because your thinking about him.

You'll know he's the one when you can say you love all of the things he truly hates about himself and mean it.

You'll know he's the one when you hug him because all of your worries have gone.

You'll know he's the one if he looks in your eyes and you can't look away because you are drowning in his laugh and the way he says your name.

You'll know he's the one when you guys get close and all you can think about is kissing him.

You'll know he's the one if his cologne is your new favorite smell.

You'll know he's the one if you can't think straight around him.

You'll know he's the one when he cries because your heart breaks and you will do anything to make him feel better.

You'll know he's the one when your getting ready for the day because you try your hardest to dress to impress.

You'll know he's the one if you trust him with all of your secrets.

You'll know he's the one if you think about your future together.

You'll know he's the one when you guys can hang out and your in the moment, nothing else matters except for him and you.

You'll know he's the one when you get nervous talking to him.

You'll know he's the one if you had him in mind as you read this.

I don't talk about my problems because I don't want my problems to become yours.
I don't want you to adopt my destructive habits and thoughts. The way I avoid questions and disguise bad situations.
I don't talk about the things I have had to experience, not because I don't want you to know those things about me, but because I know that they will change you. In some way. Maybe they will change the way you see me, the way you treat me, or maybe even the way you see the rest of the world and yourself.
I don't want to tell you every detail about my relations with men because I don't want you to fear them as well.
I don't want to tell you about the harassment and torture I endured throughout the years because I don't want to reveal the things that hurt me.
I don't want to tell you about my eating disorders and the way I think because I don't want to give you an instruction manual on ******* yourself.

I avoid becoming too personal with people because it makes me vulnerable. I do not favor being used.

I get irrationally angry when I see that my friends are going through the same problems as me. Maybe it is because I care about them, or it could be because I am jealous. I honestly don't know.

I feel like I am doing a lot and not enough at the same time, and I hate myself for it. I punish myself with restless nights of crying and bleeding, torture myself with challenges against successful people, push myself to the brink of pain and defeat because I know I am cable of being successful. So why do I not just do more?

There is something I should tell you
Something you may know
You see, I have this problem
It formed a long time ago
It started when I was 10
A little chubby, a little reserved
I was a victim and a target
I got what I never deserved
With the few friends I had
We started growing apart
For little did they know
I needed a new start
I was done with the torture
The rejection, so I changed
If only I could have seen
This idea was deranged
I starved myself of the food
That caused me so much pain
Little did I know
That things would not change
They still looked at me the same
As a helpless little toy
That they loved to play with
That they had to destroy
Hidding in a skeleton
Was the mess that was made
I lost all hope
I could not be saved
My worst fear was people
For they caused me so much doubt
That I felt the urge to leave
I had to get out
I don't want to grow up anymore
I never expected it to turn out like this
Why does everyone want to hurt me?
Is this what living is?
So many times I have tried
To be more optimistic
But everywhere I go
The people are horrific
He used her, he got me
He cheated and lied
He is in jail
For things he couldn't hide
She hurt me, she was fake
Once she was my only friend
Now she's gone and
Our friendship has met its end
I loved him, he didn't love me
I guess I should have known
His heart belongs to her
And he has her own
Eating makes me sick
I don't get very much sleep
I can't take this any longer
I have fallen way to steep
"I can't drowned my demons
They know how to swim"
My demons are the people
And I have let them win
This problem I am talking about
Not many can suggest
But since I was the age of 10
I have felt depressed

Just let me read

I don't want to be here anymore
Just let me read so I can leave this world for a little while
Just a little break from the drama and the torture

That's all I ask
To be in a world with dragons and zombious plagues because its better than here
To have the ability to freeze time and have powers so I can finally be the one in control
To see God and Jesus because they promised to make my life easier
To be immortal and shapeshift because death does not exist

I need to be able to pause
To just place a bookmark in my life so I can continue the one that lives on the pages

I need the magic
I need the fairies and mermaids
I need the talking animals
I need to fly
I need the stories
I need the possibilities

I know, I know
Their just fiction
But sometimes I just need a happily ever after
Because I know ill never have one

Please just leave me with my books so I can just pretend for a little while

Is it love when I tense up every time he holds me?
Do I call it love when he is inches away from me and all I can think about is holding my breath because I would rather fail at making myself pass out than fail to admit that I do not love him?
I love how straight forward and confident he can be when he wants something enough, but does that mean I love him?
I love how intimidating and controlling he can be sometimes, but I'm not sure I would call that love.
What do I call it when he grabs my neck from behind and kisses me?
Is it love when he touches me, and I have to count down the seconds until I can breathe normally again?
Is it love when he talks about the future we could have, and I cringe?
Do I call it love when he makes me feel defeated and owned?; To feel as though you are obligated to marry someone?
He wants to call it love, but how can I when I picture someone else when we kiss to keep me from running away?
How can I call it love when all I want to do is rip out his heart because I believe he does not know how to use it?
I will not call this LOVE because it is DEFEAT and HOPELESSNESS

I will call this sick
And crazy
And psychotic
Because that is the ONLY explanation for me straining to make this work

Why do I still care about the people that have walked out of my life?

I have not felt this happy in years, thank you

I am obsessed with my health. Not just simply my health, but my weight, and my eating habits, and my view on life and myself. I am so obsessed that it has now gotten to the point where it is all I think about, and it has become obvious to everyone around me.

I can tell you which lunch ladies at my school won't question your lunch choices, which teachers will let you sit in their classrooms during lunch because you don't want to be around anyone or food; I have memorized restaurant menus, and I can tell you the meals with the lowest amounts of calories. My photo gallery is full of screenshots of healthy, low calorie, low fat, no-sugar recipes that I intend to make when I choose. I follow 177 eating disorders blogs on Tumblr. One of them being my girlfriend, and I get notifications when all of them post anything new. I weigh myself everyday, I know what I am eating two days from now, I overexercise, and I can tell you how many calories are in the 6 200mg ibuprofen I take everyday before facing the world.

I have lost 20 lbs. That doesn't seem like something worth keeping to myself, but it is when you are a high school girl; it is when all girls think the same, and suddenly when they hear numbers, they want to be number 1; they want to be the lowest, to be the winner, to be the most miserable person.

I can tell you exactly what it feels like to be embarrassed of being in your own skin.

I love giving other people food because I want them to remember that food is good for them. I want them to feel as though being given food is a kind gesture, not a last resort.

When I am really depressed and sad,
I laugh.
I know it's not going to help
But it's a good disguise.
Sometimes I just laugh
Because I know that if I don't
I'm going to break down in endless tears.

8:30AM
I think I'm done with poetry guys, I'll see you around.

I knew that talking to you again
Was a huge mistake
I'm sorry, I don't know
How much more I can take

What happened to my friend that would hug me every day?
You were the only person that didn't push me away
What happened to that smile
And that laugh happiness used to show?
I miss that smile.. Why did it have to go?
You used to hang out with your friends every chance you had,
You changed and blocked out the world, you always look sad..
I don't know what happened
To the girl that was as happy as could be
But you will always be like a sister to me

You think you have so much life to live
But that time bomb you have in your chest
Keeps ticking
Everything you do is being timed
The amount of time you have left
Keeps ticking down
You don't have as much life
As you thought you did yesterday
so live
You're dying.
It's a fact
Most of us are already dead
So live what you have left
And just be happy.
Stop concentrating on the bad
That has happened to you over
The years
That's not going to do any good
Life is short
Stop wasting it on things from the past

My friend decided to make up
This holiday for holding hands.
Every Wednesday she would grab my hand and we would walk down the halls telling people to do the same.
The thought of it still makes me smile.
Well, one day
There was this stranger.
I had seen him before, but I never talked to him.
But I held his hand, he didn't mind,
I was expecting him to pull away or something
But he just smiled and walked with me.
We started talking through out the school year
And a few broken hearts later he decides
To tell me he had a crush on me,
That this crush had been going on since
That Wednesday when I held his hand.
Later I had fallen into this depression.
I didn't want to talk to anybody,
I didn't want to hold hands.
Me and this guy got distant,
Until one Wednesday when we were
Talking, I held his hand.
And that's when I told him I had a crush on him too.
In that moment, I had never seen him smile that big.
He told me he had been dying to hold my hand again.
My mistake was the timing..
He was moving.
We got close and we had to say good bye.
To this day I still find myself thinking about him
Whenever I hold hands with somebody.

You stole my heart
and as I tried to take it back I fell for you
so then I let you keep it.

Pain may be measured on a scale of 1 to 10

But the pain that you have caused me can't be measured