Hate is such an ugly word               Love is such a pretty word
“I hate carrots”                                 ”I love puppies”
“I hate school”                                  “I love apples”
“I hate spiders”                                 ”I love you”
“I hate…”                                          “I love…”
“I hate…”                                          “I love…”
“I hate…”                                          “I love…”
“…hate…”                                         ”…love…”
“…hate…”                                         ”…love…”
“…hate…”                                         ”…love…”
It is used so often                                It is used too often
In places it shouldn’t                          In places it should not
You don’t really hate carrots            You don’t really love puppies
You just dislike them                         You just like the cuteness
You don’t really hate school              You don’t really love apples
You just don’t like the work              You just like the taste
You don’t really hate spiders             You don’t really love me
You just are grossed out by them      You just like to lie.

you look at her in the hall
she has a new haircut
It creeps by slowly, softly
you look at her in the hall
she has new shoes
It bumps into you soft, unnoticed
you look at her in the hall
she has a new outfit
It knocks into you uncomfortable, unimportant
you look at her in the hall
she lost weight
It taps you on the shoulder lightly, jokingly
you look at her in the hall
she is dating him
It prods you in the back hard, violent
you look at her in the hall
she has everything perfect
It consumes you ‘til you’re nothing
you’re nothing
but an
envious best friend

I see them in the halls
Their sunken eyes, covered with Makeup
Their scarred arms, covered with Bracelets
Their scratched fingers, covered with Rings
They cut, ****, hurt
They try to act normal
They don’t want people to notice
But people do
I do
I want to help
But I can’t
No one can
I can’t touch them
They’re living ghosts

Miss little Emma
Five years old
She has no problems
With her body and hair like gold

Miss little Emma
Eight years of age
Came home crying
They pushed her in the sage

Miss little Emma
Twelve years old
They told her crush she liked him
She didn't think they were cold

Miss little Emma
Young and fifteen
He broke her little heart
After she gave him everything

Miss little Emma
Eighteen and old
She looks back on her school years
Feeling oh so bold

Miss little Emma
Didn't have friends
She was bullied the whole time
There was no end

Miss little Emma
Was told to die
She makes the last cut
After she says "goodbye"

The thought of you makes me smile
Thinking of your eyes make me blush
You are amazing
And wonderful
And perfect
But not for me
I know that
You and I will never be an us
No matter how much we force it
I want to be an us
But for some reason we're not meant to be
Us will be an idea that we try to grasp
But can't quite reach
And that makes me sad
But it's better to accept the fact
So then when you get tired of me
Moving on will be easier
And the thought of us
Drifts from my mind
With no second glance

Stuck in a sea of faces
Staring at those
Who don't understand
The workings behind my face
My wants
Wishes
Desires
I am stuck
In a crowd of extroverts
Who don't get the quiet
They look at me funny
Because I am silent
Different
Outcast