smiles are easy to fake people do not seam to see my pain hiding with in show what they want and they wont look further into you so that you can have friends and they wont run away

i'm a writer by nature
but that doesn't always mean my head's in the clouds
it means my mind steals bits of reality
pieces of people
and lines from others
i forget my place and
try to act as the main character
to create experiences
but wallflowers
are the best writers of all

A friend asked me
how to be a writer.
I wanted to say,
lock yourself in a room,
scream until you have
a poem and no voice.
Open your veins and bleed
until you know that your bones
are pure words and sorrow.
Act as if you slit your own throat
and all you can bleed
are your own regrets
and all of the darkness
you boxed up for inspiration.
Write your mom a letter,
tell her you're leaving
and you won't be back for awhile
Because being a writer is traveling
through all seven layers of Hell
and denying anything is wrong.
Forget loving yourself
when all you have is a pen and paper
fused to your wrist
and Jesus is tapping at your skull
saying turn back now.
Warn the neighbors that if they smell burning
It's just your soul
clawing at the front door trying to get in.
Learn how to be alone.
Learn how to lose everything you have
in order to feel release,
learn how to only feel deceased
from now on.
A friend asked me
how to be a writer.
All I said was
don't

Untangle my body from yours
                        Step number one
Untangle my gaze to stop from speaking volumes
                        Step number two
Untangle my dreams from reality with you
                        Step number three
Untangle my definition of happiness from your presence
                        Step number four
Untangle the future from possibilities containing us
                        Step number five
Untangle my person from yours
                        Impossible

A poem is written about coffee
After a poet's insomniac night
Full of stained ceramic mugs
And crumpled ***** of paper
Filled with poems
They wish they didn't write

I could cry
I'm exhausted
anxious
lonely
on edge
lately I feel like I've been walking on a mental tightrope
unbalanced and ready to slip at anytime
I keep telling myself I need more sleep
or it's just this birth control in my arm,
but I've told myself these same things since I was 14 years old
and I've slept since then
I've switched birth control since then,
I've still hurt myself since then

Sometimes I can't put down my thoughts the way I wish I could
I feel like my head is blocking my words from escaping
Like it's too hard to express my real feelings anyway
this is normal
I begin to think my life is just so boring and uninteresting that I don't have anything to say
but I have moments where I take a deep breath and let it go slowly and think to myself
"I know I'm just depressed"
and that feeling is hopeless
and I feel helpless
I'll look at my reflection and think to myself
"What am I supposed to do?
Everyday isn't a bad day.
Even if it's not really a good one either."