I have never been good at talking.
I spend my words frugally,
As if they are limited—
As if they conform to some currency—
To hide behind the dam that holds back
The river waiting to burst through my mind
Out into my eyes.
But I hold back.
It seems that no matter where I hide my heart
Someone ends up finding it—
Pointing a finger
To assign guilt,
And don't get me wrong,
For, I am guilty.
But I hold back.
Waiting—
Waiting for my time alone
To let my dam unfold,
To let the scars free
From my soul.
Not many understand
What it feels to genuinely hate
Your own being
In the essence of your stone cold
Broken heart—
But even still, I bottle up,
And hold back
Wishing away the hope of another “fresh start.”
Even as still,
However, as I sit waiting—
The dam doesn't break apart;
It just sits and waits—
Waits to hit me hardest
When I can't take the punches,
When I lose my balance,
When there is none other than one escape—
If you could even call death an escape.

Countless
I lie awake
Wondering
If I am afraid,
Hoping I’m not
Just another added shade
Of the darkness — forgetting
If I am only prolonging
Or if I should end it here,
Waiting for my time
As if the night will last forever
As if nothing else matters,
And I’m waiting,
But soon I won’t waste
Any more patience.
Soon I will
No longer

Exist.

You are the reason why
I lie awake at night.
You're the reason why
I stare at a plate
Knowing I shouldn’t have taken so much—
Knowing half if not more will go to waste.
You are the reason why I'd rather watch movies
Or play videogames
Than do homework or practice piano
So that I show up to school empty-handed—
So that I show up to lesson and have to learn a piece there unpracticed.
I'm so tired of you
You have ruined my life.
No one would miss you, would they?
If you misteriously dissapeared—
If I slit your thoughts out of your head,
And stabbed your future to death.
I can’t wait until I get the courage—
Can’t wait to feel your last breath leave your chest
Because im tired of living with you.
I'll bet you figured it out, havent you?
That you are the one to which I write,
But you haven't figured it out.
You think you'll claim this note as your own—
Let it sit upon your bookshelf,
When, in fact, the “you” to which I write
Is none other than myself.

It stung
In the shower
I wore two jackets
To cover
I slept in those jackets
I wore them in summer
So that no one could see
I was falling down the deep end
So that no one would pester
About my casual disaster
For, no one knew
How could they understand
The storm I was going through?
While the weather in their world
Was all bright and blue
Nothing in mine could make me feel
Until I became desperate
Until I could no longer resist the crave
And after I did it
After I gave in
I let it heal
But after remembering the names
After believing I was evil
I would get in another fight
With my mind
And when I would fight
I would write
With that funny red pen
Making sure to saver
To remember the rush
To remember the adrenaline
And somehow writing in this way
Cleared my head

And now, I wonder if it could again.

"Time flies"
They say.
We just stand here
And wait--
Wait for our world to change.
"Change is good"
They say.
It's how we become better--
Better than who we used to be--
As if we were never enough.
"Be yourself"
They say
Until they see behind our mask
Until they become afraid
Of our scars,
Of our darkness,
Of our unmasked face.
"Attention seeker"
They say
As if we can't be ourselves,
So we put on a mist.
We can't be ourselves because of the unspoken rules we break.
We can't show our true colors,
So we fake.
"Why don't you tell someone?"
They ask
As if they know how we feel at the end of the day--
As if it truly is that simple,
But they know nothing of reality.
"I'm okay"
We say
To get people off our backs,
To sit by ourselves,
To stand apart,
To allow them to remain blissfully ignorant
So that they will not be afraid.
And while we watch their spirits rise,
We fade a smile and close our eyes and dream of a place in which we cease to exist.
We can barely even survive
While so easily they seem to live
I can't keep from wondering how our lives would have been different if both of our "kind" were born separate.
We paint a picture in our minds that perhaps if we talked to people who could relate, we wouldn't be who we are today.
If we had peaceful nights where we could talk without being afraid,
Maybe we wouldn't hurt so badly,
Maybe we wouldn't have been called all those names,
But right when we feel invisible,
Right when we feel safe,
They **** us again: "Are you okay?"
Every time I hear those words a funny smile instinctly appears on my face.
A smile I have practiced in the mirror nightly.
I smile so innocent,
So pure,
Sometimes I fool even myself,
And as if the only reason I was made was to convince them I have no reason to lie,
My response never changes.

Music, it seems,
Is the only thing

Able to heal
The way I feel.

I'm unafraid
To leave this place.

For, smiles
Are like dials.

All it takes
Is one mistake

To spin a smile down,
And bleed into a frown.

For, I’m so tired of bleeding—
Tired of smiles fleeting.

So, I guess,
Before today proves another mess,

I’ll close my eyes,
Keeping my mind tied,

Until I wake—

If I ever wake.

I’m hanging by a thread,
Letting the wind push my body as it will.
For I have no control.
My body is tattered.
My soul is shattered,
And I wait for the day when
I can rid myself of this form.
I’m tired of looking at myself wishing I wasn’t;
I’m tired of searching for reasons just to live and not let life take me away,
But at the same time,
I am tired of the embarrassment
To simply just be me.
I cannot stand for another second
To hear the echoes of “friendly” voices calling out to me—
Telling about everything I am
As if I didn’t already know.
And making my self-esteem go from hate
To loathe.
Perhaps it’s time I just left;
Perhaps it’s time I did something right
Because no matter where I am emotionally,
Suicide is always pushing through the heart of my mind.
So, tell me what I need to hear instead of want.
Tell me very simply that I will never be enough.
I’m waiting with a fist in each hand—
Indecisive about whether or not I should stay calm,
Or whether I should end it here—
Ready to beat myself until breathing is no longer an option.
Make me suffer, or I will
Because I’m tired of waiting for you to follow through.
Throw me against the wall,
Stab me with your words,
Tear out my heart
While intertwining your eyes with mine.
Because I’m tired of looking for a fresh, new start.
The very definition of my name is “joke,”
Make me live up to it.
Make me remember not to forget,
That suicide has always been my one and only friend
Because the word “goodbye” becomes even more tempting more often than nights.
I just wish I could see the looks on your faces after too far over the edge you decide to finally push.
So, make up your mind because I’ve made up mine—
Whether or not you want me here or push me so far
That you cannot lend a hand to save me anymore.
For, I’m hanging by no more than a thread,
And I’m beyond saving so don’t waste your time.
You’re left with a very simple choice instead:
Whether to cut the last string on this noose that holds me above this abyss,
Or leave me for dead.