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

I trusted you with Myself
That little part of me
I told you I was dying
And drifting off to sea

I trusted you, so you would help
I could get out of this hole
But you took my pain and laughed
I'd never thought you'd be this cold

I trusted you, because I love you
I thought you loved me
I gave you my all
But now, I am but a memory

Why is having money considered successful?
Why is being popular and knowing people considered successful?
Why is being skinny and tan considered successful?
Why are all these things "success"?

Why isn't doing what you love considered successful?
Why isn't being happy and content considered successful?
Why isn't accepting your body for what it is considered successful?
Why aren't these the standards of success?

Why can't we do what we want without worrying about money?
Why can't we stay home instead of partying?
Why can't we eat whatever we want without worrying about the calories?
Why are we judged when we're not "successful"?

She's all alone
Nobody cares
But I do
I care, see, love

She's beautiful
But they don't see
She's funny
But they don't hear

They go about their lives
Not seeing her
Walking right past
My little wallflower

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"

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

Peeling paint
Rusted stairs
Creaky swings
Broken slide
Missing merry-go-round
A deserted playground
Is home
For lost memories

Alone and Lonely
Two different words
Interchanged regularly
When they shouldn't be
Alone. (adjective)
On one's own
Lonely. (adjective)
Sad because one has no company
When I am alone
I'm not always lonely
When I am lonely
I'm not always alone
They aren't synonyms

It's near
I can taste Metal
Moldy food overwhelming my nose
The Fox creeps around
Bringing night and ruby gone
Overpowering
Lying in a street
shot dead
Moonshadow Alone

It's here
After so many years
Finally the pain will be gone
The Lamb comes softly
Bringing peace and beauty sigh
Wonderful
Lying in a chair
sleeping dead
Moonshadow Alone

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.

We want people to know,
Know about our inner selves
But when we start to tell others
We clam up, we can't do it.

Why?

Is it because we don't want others
To go through the same things?
Or because we don't want
To be judged for our imperfections?

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

Death is distant
He's not expected to come
Until we are old and frail
When Death comes early
For our standards
It's more horrifying
Not many think
They'll die young
And meet Death
Sooner than others
But some will
Death shouldn't be distant
Because who knows when
He will strike

Blank page
Staring at me
Taunting me

I want to write
But the blue lines sit there
Smiling evilly

No inspiration appears
Writer's block
Ideas flee from me

I want to fill the paper with words
No white to be seen
Nothing but pencil lead

But the mind stays blank
Never thinking of anything
Stuck

I sit in the back of the class
Glancing at you in the corner of my eye
Watching you write, read, and listen
Memorizing the way you lean back in a chair
And how you always pack up with thirty seconds left
My English teacher once said
"Looking has power,
because when you're looking at someone
you have the upper hand because
you know what they're doing."
I suppose I have a lot of power over you
Because I constantly want to look at your beauty
And see how you smile
And listen as you laugh
Maybe one day, I'll get the courage to talk to you too

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