the feeling that what i did was right
telling someone else
i am not equipped for the pressure of keeping another person alive
i can barely find it in myself to stay alive
i need to sleep
i don't want to be awake anymore
the feeling of being useless is killing me
i need to be heard so that i know you are listening
im sorry that these things went down in this way
but i am not sorry for the decisions that i made
to get help
for you
when i am not good enough to help you myself

getting yelled at by someone you love
the'yre shaking with anger
angry by what you have done

and you don't have the ability to care
cant find it in yourself to
understand that they're saying
cant see why they're upset

you know what you've done is stupid
but you don't care

I hate it when people say stuff like:
“You’re so brave for battling your depression like that”

I am not battling it
Not anymore
The harder I fight back the worse it gets
So I am living with it

We made peace together,
Not a functioning peace
But it is calm

Like the calm before a storm
Or a fire

Because it is quick to ignite itself at the slightest able chance

So I am not battling depression

I am battling myself

sleep for 4 hours max.
forget to eat
pick up a new hobby
like smoking
or snorting

never cry in front of anyone
ever
build your walls out of concrete
and barbed wire

never let anyone in
you will regret it

be insensitive
hurt the people around you
cause them pain

maybe they will leave you
before you leave them

i've turned my guns to fists
but now what do i do with this
this war in my head
it despises me instead
i try my best to succeed
but i just want to concede
these monsters in my bones
have made themselves at home
and i find myself
f
  a
     l
       l
         i
           n
              g
down to greet them
knocking on their doors
tasked with doing their chores
to help them rip me apart
as they start toward my heart
and with everything i have
i will not let them take
me down with them to that place
where there is no me
and there is no you
just nothing at all

The only cells
In my body that
I love are
The dead ones

How do you do this?
The fight with your brain that the empty is there and you just want to get rid of it but you can’t figure out how

It’s like a car crash,
You drive a little fast, a little recklessly one too many times
But what could go wrong?
Nothing has ever gone wrong before
So you go a little too fast
It’s not your fault if somebody else is drunk
You didn’t make that decision for them

You wake up in the hospital
Bandages around your arms
Broken legs from trying to lift yourself up when you were crushed

And you swear to never drive again
That was too close
You could’ve died

But the next day
You have to go to school
Your parents have already left for work

You slip into that familiar drivers seat
The steering wheel fits perfectly around your hands
The grasp just right,
The grooves from where you nervously rip your hands
And you find yourself accelerating
Faster and faster

There’s already been an accident once
What’s the chance of a second one?

why is it
so much harder
to write
in the dark?

I realized
People with depression describe it as sad
People who are sad describe it as depression
Why can’t we figure out that they are not the same?

Spiders roam through my open ears
there are slugs in my mouth
there are flies in my eyes

these are my disguise

hiding in my mind
body inhabited by bugs
never to be seen again

most of my stories
i have no name for
i cant really express
how a title can change the story

its like a person
with an assigned name
and you expect them
to live that name

for instance, Ashley
she is a fun loving blonde
or brunet, who loves to party
she dresses in ripped jeans and crop tops,
that may be a little too short

Or Jessica
who is the meanest ***** in the school
she wears ****-skirts
and sparkly tops,
that always accentuate her chest

the stereotypes that live in highschools
strangle everybody
who fits within them
even if they aren't them

Ashley just wants to be called Ash
and wear baggy T-shirts
and sweatpants

Jessica wants to be called Jess
and go by They/them pronouns

People should be able to fit on
where they want
not where they have to
to survive

these words that we are writing
spewing out into a hungry void
looking for the best lighting
to showcase our masks
show how not broken we are
how free that we can be
how we are not weighed down by tar
stuck to our feet
when we try to get free
we scream to be heard
but need to see
that we
are free

i am in a room

trapped

for a brief moment
the door opens

for three days
i go outside,

into a high fenced yard
I think i am closer to freedom

i sleep outside
afraid that if i go in
i wont be able to go back out

that doesn't stop them

i am in a different room now
no windows
no beds

i just want to go home

i went to the doctor today

i cried before i went in
not because of the doctor

but because of my father

he tells me i have to grow my hair out
i have to be a good little girl

i'm not his little girl
i was only pretending

i am me
genderqueer
short hair

i will not grow out my hair
for his ****** up ideals
of the perfect daughter

when i am not his daughter
at all

In time
Everywhere
Makes me feel
Like I’m
S U F F O C A T I N G

I’m sorry that I find this house suffocating
I’m sorry that the home that you have created for me is no longer good

I’m sorry I’m so clingy
I’m sorry I’ve made you my emotional support without your permission

That wasn’t fair of me

when someone is sick, their body gets feverish, their body tries to purge the sickness from them, forcing it out until they get better, or die
my body is fighting an infection inside my brain. there is no fever no chills, no shaking. the only way to see the infection is to wait
wait until it gets so bad that it starts showing up on your body
in the form of red lines or dark bruises, there is no beating this infection. it is in every atom of my being, i have to learn to live with it
or die from it.
and sometimes my body just gets too weak to keep fighting
i think that it is the end, that there will be no more sickness. but i claw my way back up, to just above the surface, breathing in the air, and making sure that i am still fighting. i am still alive.

You were there
and then you weren't

you left so **** suddenly

I didn't miss you at first
i was sad you left

You haven't answered me for over a week
you're too busy for me now

i guess you found someone better
just like i said you would

I'm Exhausted
Always watching what i say
so as to not upset the people around me
making them feel better before i do
Being there for everyone else

If i talk to them about how i feel
it just makes them feel worse
talking them off the edge
while I'm hanging from it
is the hardest thing I've ever had to do

cacophonous crying

screaming sabotage

all of this noise
not being heard

or not being said

I take the pills that are given to me
sometimes a few too many
but what are they there for?
if not to help
the Prozac burns while it clings to the walls of my throat
because i tried to take it without water
because if i drink water
then my body will think i care about it
and i don"t

music is important
to me

my father doesnt like music

I cant see why or how,
its a distraction
from the noise

the droning noise
that follows me
everywhere

even when i'm alone
when i'm at home
the droning
the noise

ringing
crashing
screaming
crying

the noise that is drowned out
by a simple melody

a simple hum when driving
whistling when walking
music when crying

music is important

Set reminder

You’re not funny
Not happy
Not good enough

But you know what?
I’m fine lol

scream
loud,
be
heard,

its ok

I watched every car

Hoping it was you

The longest relationship I have
Is the most toxic one in my life
I wish I could end it
But I just keep getting pulled back in

There comes a time,
And for a while she leaves me alone
And I think she is gone

But then she is back
Asking for money like a deadbeat dad
Except I have no money
I already have it to her

So she carved the money out of me
Rectangles of my skin
Hung and dried
A terrible form of currency

But it pays her off
For a while

I think smooth
Soft
White

Porcelain stands up to much
But one little crack sends it to the garbage

Porcelain is strong
Disguised as weak

relapsing is part of healing
just because you relapse
doesn't mean you lost all of your progress

my head is wired a little different
the need to not be scowled at
not be ignored
to allow work to be just work
and not an escape
not something to bring relief
when you cant hold still
when you cant move
and you just beg for forgiveness

I’m learning
How hard it is
To run
From your problems

i'm at school again
the skinniest girl here
calling herself fat

I'm at school again
earbuds
with no music

I'm at school again
i really
don't want to be here

i'm sitting in English class
looking at the others around me
there's two girls in this class
there's nineteen guys in my class
I look at their faces
but only when they are looking away
i cant be seen
observing
watching
it seems creepy
but the thing that's creepy
is that they all have sad eyes
there's no light behind them
what happened to that light
how can it be turned back on
with drugs and alcohol?
because that's what they do
how can they be helped
because they need help

my head hurts
i am sick
isnt it obvious
cold then hot then cold again
i have to have a fever
this is real

i am sick.
sick in my head
sick in my chest
sick in my knees

that are scraped because
i just couldnt
stand anymore

I should be sleeping

sleep isn't something that's common anymore
always trying, but never succeeding
vile things haunt my peripheral
everything changes, but change is constant

my mind is poisoned
everybody is watching me

perfect is what i should be
lets take a nap together
eloquent is what your face is
always looking up
staying close,
even when i push you away

you steal everything from me
my style
my friends
my name

It hurts when you take what's mine, and make it your own

but it's better than I could have ever done

you all scream profanities like there's nothing to lose
she looks so frightened in front of you all

you're so loud and shes so quiet
you're so rude to her

she doesn't deserve that

theres a phrase
**** hit the fan
i wonder who is throwing the **** up
there has to be a reason that the **** ended up on the ceiling
it didnt just happen
playing with fire will get you burned, but who cares about the scars as long as they are covered.
why are you throwing the ****?
i cant understand.

these old wounds that mar my skin
etched into the memory of myself
these bodies have memories
and if mine were made into a movie
it would be one hell of a horror story

i was raised in a nice home with good parents
and plenty of food for me to eat
and plenty of clothes for me to wear
so why do i bear these scars

i have an incredible support line
people who love and care about me
even my co-workers see that
why can't I?

if our happiness was determined by our support system
then i would be the happiest ******* person on the planet

my tombstone will read:

took so much
gave so little

gone so soon
but not soon enough

Everything hurts
the only thing keeping me going most of the time
is the pills prescribed to me

I don't want to do this anymore

im tired

to the woman who scowled at me when i was working
it made me sad, scared, afraid
i thought i was doing something wrong
your rudeness cut to my core
and you dont even care
today was a bad day for you, so why **** on mine?
maybe i shouldnt be so delicate
so willing to get hurt
maybe i should just close everybody off
spiral back down into that dark grey
get stuck in the mud
push everybody away
go home
be alone
again

he tries his hardest to be seen
he stands tall
he looks mean
but still there's this look in his eye
hes just trying
trying to survive
he is trying to live
he wants to succeed
in his dream

If I hide they won’t find me


Please don’t let them find me

i am trying
to remember how to write

i can write this
can't I?

the monsters in my bones
clay away at my skin
begging to be let out
like a dog seeing a squirrel
the rip and tear away at me
destroying me from the inside out

my science teacher has no anxiety

i wonder what thats like