you showed me
the kind of love
and kindness
I didn't know at the time
came from above
you were nothing less
than a gift from God
you were
and I wonder
how heart grew so big
he sent you to touch many
especially me
you gave your who life's time
to helping others
I watched you
go so out of your way
to give all you could
to so many strangers
you did it with joy
it wasn't a chore for you
how did your hear get so big
and looking back now
I don't think your heart problems
were caused by your diet
or genetics
it was because you gave
and gave and gave
and gave all that was in it
as much as a human heart
would possibly allow
and I know you didn't regret it
you were sincere
you were genuinely interested
in the lives of others
never considering what you
looked like to them
you just loved to give
and
when you called me your favorite
I know that you meant it
the bond that we shared
was truly one of a kind
the love you showered on me
was not of this world
dad
how did your heart get so big

You know that feeling
When everything around you
Is just spinning,
Pounding,
Bringing total chaos?

But somehow you feel nothing at all.
Not scared about being shot at.
Not being scared that a car is about to hit you.
Not being scared that the freshman that you just shoved out of your way will come and hurt you.

You just stand there,
Watching the bullets fly at you.
Watching the headlights on the car come straight at you.
Walking away but turning around to make sure he isn't running after you.
Just waiting to see what will happen next.

That feeling you have when all that chaos is happening,
That my friend is called calm.

Oh, how I wish you still called
To hear that crack in your voice
Flaws and all
You were still my first choice.

Oh, how I wish you still called
To talk the fears back
Because since we fell off
It brought the tears back.

The comforted words you spoke*
The *life in your laugh
All the memories I have to revoke
Brings all the pain back.

One cut, two cut, three cut, four
Watch my blood spill on the floor
Five cut, six cut, seven cut, eight
Isn't this life just ******* great
Nine cut, ten
Here we go again

One cut, two cut, three cut, four
Sinking every day a little more
Five cut, six cut, seven cut, eight
Future is up to chance and fate
Nine cut, ten
This ****** up game I'll never win

One thing about rain:
it's not just water nor droplets
but bullets of different emotions.
A match stick that burns your soul
in a deep, vague coldness.

Some found happiness from it;
I once did.
And some did find something
they did not want nor expect.

But a thing about rain:
you will always find something.
It will always give you a thing,
even if you're not aware.
And when you're not aware,
let me tell you,
it is the rain.

A thing about rain,
it's a door.
A door that leads to places you once went.
A door that opens widely for a rent.
It is more than just water;
it's a memory
You can't assume it is the same place
you once longed to be.
We can't say that door is safe
nor the door is free.

Some were trapped,
some managed to escape,
some managed to smile,
and I managed to fear.
I fear that rain would prolong and
would bear a fruit.
But it didn't, it just plucked up
a great root.

How wonderful the rain could be.
How it crashed to ground a resilient tree.
How one could change with a single memory.
And how rain triggers my anxiety.

Our first kiss
Gave me an everlasting bliss.
The night your lips met mine
Made everything feel so right.
It was if the whole world stopped
And all my worries just dropped.
The way your lips felt on mine
So gentle and so kind.
I can't forget how your lips taste
And the way your hands cupped my face.
Or how you ran your fingers through my hair
And how much you told me you care.
The feeling I get when I feel your kiss
Is a feeling I never want to miss.

My generation was born in the age of technology.
We don’t know how to communicate without our phones or computers.
"You have to disconnect in order to connect with one another. Put down the technology and connect with the soul."
I have learned that if you just sit down with someone, you can learn so much.

“A friend talks to you. A good friend listens.” I am a good friend.
Before phones friends would sit under a tree and talk for hours.
That’s what this world needs.
Proper communication.

When I’m with Dakota, we put our phones in our bags.
We sit there and talk or enjoy each others company.
We stopped ourselves from becoming these internet addicted zombies.
We have learned to become human.

When we are mad

We have scars

When we are depressed

We have scars

When we are sad

We have scars

Get my point?

No matter how we feel

We will have scars

Maybe if we stop hiding

We might heal faster

Lets show the world our scars

And show how beautiful we are

Scars shouldn't define us

They improve us

It shows how we are different

Revealing may not be a bad thing

If we reveal our scars

They might understand

The pain

The fight

The feeling

Lets show the world our beautiful scars

Life is pain
No pain no gain right?
With pain you don't get anything
Either way you don't gain
People are pain
School is pain
The only reason I'm still in school is I need to provide for my future cat.
So in conclusion everything is pain

I have no reason to be sad.
I have food on my table,
I live in a luxurious stable,
I’m not disabled nor financially unstable.
Everything I want, I had.
So please explain to me how I went all bad?

I’m keeping this short and sweet.
Don’t change who you are to make other people like you.
You are you, and you don’t need to change that.

I learn the hard way.
But my best friend put me on the right track, whether she knew it or not.

They described her as
Popular. But she wanted
To be her real self.

Polite
Typical
Smiley
Daughter

Pointlessly
Trusting
School
District

Professor
Turns-blind-eye
Struggling
Drastically

Packets
Turn-to
Stacks
Deficient

Panic Attacks
Turn-to
Self
Destruction

Pulling
Teeth
Sick
Design

Plan­­s
To
Stop
Discussing

Peace
To-her
Silence
Disturbs

People
Talked
She
Distracted

Passed
The
Snacks-to
Dinners

Pulled
The
Same
Dimensions

Pre-K
Then
Smaller
Didn't

Pause
Third-Grade
So
Dead

Parents
Though
She
Drowned

Piled
Thoughts
Suffocated-her
Dexterity

Patient
There
Suffering
Depression

Problems
To-many-to
Score
Dispute

Progress
That
Shockingly
Developed

Potentially
Taken-away-the
Suffering
Dramatically

Poor
Tiny
Sweet
Doll

Par­­t
Traumatized
Sleep
Deprived

Phobic
though
Sixth grade
Doesn't

Play
Though
Six-Years-of
Death

Until... The little girl, learned she had,
Post
Traumatic
Stress
Disorder
and, school treating her badly is only one of her three traumatizing events.

I want to slide my fingers
out of my pockets
into your lap
in between your legs
and push your buttons
until your eyes roll back
into your head
and pass out and go to bed

Her legs stretched out.
His palms wrapped around her hips.
Her body clung to his.
His breathing calm.
She feels his pace,
as their bodies embrace,
paralyzed by pleasure,
encapsulated forever.

Sometimes the rain falls
as if its penning poetry
to the rhythm of its own music;
a sonic tune of the liquid tapestry.

Cleft from a sky immersed
in the scene of a tragedy.
It's torn,
the pitter-patter;
a solemn dance
for all humanity.

An ancient jig this fluid frolic
never tiring of its endless cycle
vesting and revisiting this terra firma
like a lover emasculating the earth
of its desert state,
or adding to its oceans
in a bid to be free.

But you’re here again, I’ve noticed
for even through windows
your music plays a clamorous
and a rather brazen beat.

Take my hand, why don’t you?

Come.

Dance with me.

I care about popularity
I care about my looks
I care about the boy in the back of the class
Yet
I don't care about who I surround myself with
I don't care about my health, why eat more than 1 meal a day
I only care if the boy in the back of class likes me
Because,
I don't care about myself
I care about you. The one reading, it's You.
It's me,
Caring too much
Acting stupid for you
Starving for you
Just to look perfect enough so you know,
I'm here for you.



It's is such a selfless act of anxiety so discriminated.
This may be confusing so here's a summary!:  it's me saying that I change every aspect of myself,...for myself. But I don't do it for self-acceptance, it's so I can accept YOU accepting me. If I went to school with no makeup, I would think every word you tell me is a lie or that you only talk to me because you HAVE to. Because not even I can look at myself as normal human being when I'm makeupless without breaking down eternally.

Reality
That stone cold word
That ***** out all your life

Reality
Is this world
With hunger, pain and strife

Reality
Is when you see
That beggar on the street

Reality
Is when you know
That you must admit defeat

Reality
Is death and loss
And not knowing what comes after

But Reality
Can be fun
And filled with joy and laughter

Reality
Is the time you spent
With everyone you love

Reality
Is lying down
And seeing the stars above

Reality
Is a perfect day
Where nothing seems amiss

Reality
Is your first love
Or marriage's sealing kiss

Reality
Is good and bad
Depending how you see it

Reality
Is what you want
If you just have the spirit

I will never be able to look at red paint the same way after that night

Okay story time. This may be triggering so don't say I didn't warn you. So one night after I threw away my blade I was falling and I wanted to cut. But as I didn't have a blade I couldn't so I grabbed a tube of red water color paint and I sorta faded out and when I came back I had red paint all over my arms and legs. With words painted on in black that read "if you knew how broken I was would you still love me?". So yeah that's my story.

i told you
because
i wanted you
to stop me.

Roses are red, violets are blue,
They say it's addicting now I know that it's true  
But the roses are wilting the flowers are dead  
My hands are shaking and my hips are lined red

Who’s going to save me
When I’m saving everyone else?
Who’s going to save me
When I cry myself to sleep at night?
Who’s going to save me
When I have a blade to my wrist?
Who’s going to save me
When the voices are screaming in my head?
The answer is nobody
While I’m out saving others,
Nobody is helping me.
I’m drowning
In the dark thoughts
Full of despair and darkness.
And with no one to help me,
I might as well succumb
To Death's sweet song.

They said
Don’t wear leggings
Or a shirt that shows your cleavage
Because you need to be covered up
You’re a distraction

They said
Don’t use your period as an excuse
For male teachers to let you go to the bathroom
Because you’re not fooling anybody

They said
Don’t shave your head
Boys can
You can’t and don’t
And won’t because we’ll suspend you

They said
Watch the length of your skirt
The color of your hair
The shoes and makeup
The piercings
And they call that fair

They said
Come to us if something is wrong
if you’re feeling bullied
if you feel unsafe
I guess they don’t remember asking my friend and I
if we heard of anyone in our year with suicidal tendencies
They asked us because
We were the sensible ones
The bright ones
We couldn't have been depressed.
I guess they didn’t see my panic
and my hand squeezing my wrist.


Because school
Is not a place
Where you can express who you are
School is not the place where you feel safe
It's a battleground on the outside of your comfort zone.

School isn’t about education
Its a challenge, competition
Its a measurement of your capabilities  

But what if you don't excel?
You’re called out for not being good enough
You're humiliated. Mocked.

You get looked down on
Judged
Embarrassed
And you don’t get your
Degree

As if a degree explains who you are
What you’ve been through
How much you’re worth

As if a degree
Measures the capacity
Of your heart
And your knowledge

And a teacher can share your grade
Make a joke and smirk
Cause they think you’re not worth it

And they can laugh and yell and call your parents
Who don’t think you’re any better.

Because year after year they’ve been led to believe
that you’re easily distracted
that you don’t do what you’re told
that you’re rebellious

Because even if you showed respect to the hypocrisy
That you can't help but notice,
They still won’t understand that you're just fighting
for what you believe is right, for mutual respect.

Because that’s not what you were thought.
You were thought to raise your hand when you want to speak.
And even if you made a valid point
You would still get lectured on putting your hand up when you want to speak.
Discipline put first.

**And that is my definition of school

You're our second house,
Education is what you offered.
But we can't call you home;
For depression is a part of that offer.

I survived my freshman year
I'm now a sophomore
But I want the school year to be here
I miss school
I have 82 days left of hell

~6/14/18

Perhaps the reason I hate myself so much,
                        
                                                                 is not because I am a horrible person..

                        but because I have given my love to everyone else

                                                                                                                     and left none for myself..

You don't hate yourself
because of the
shape of your nose,
angle of your eyes,
length of your arms,
or size of your waist.

Your self hatred
runs so much deeper
than those things.
And
Your self worth
runs even deeper.

Razors;

Just one
slash on the skin
and enough
blood will gush out
then it’s finished
you’re free
and dead

Poison;

Easy, not
one sweat would
drip from your skin.
Just drink
nonstop—
don’t pause to
catch a breath
because you wouldn’t be
needing it.

Choking;

A lot effort,
but will definitely do.
You will need some
time with yourself
and only you.
Tie the most beautiful
knot you could do,
then hang yourself
like one of your
favorite clothes.

Pills to sleep;

One,
two,
three—
doesn’t matter how many.
Drink it all,
and you will fall
deep asleep
and wouldn’t feel it hurt.
It’s just like
overcoming a nightmare.

Intentional Accident;

Wander around
the dark, quiet highway.
Sit for a while and
maybe write a little.
Look around, say,
"I’ll miss you."
And then by now
maybe a car in a hurry
would hit you.

Drowning;

Oh, how calm the
sea looks like.
Would I bother its
sleeping time
if I jumped in it
and hugged it
tight?

Trigger, pistol, gunpowder;

Daddy had a pistol
hidden in his drawer.
He said he would use it
if some bad person
tries to burgle.
He only knows of
one kind of bad person.
He never suspected
he was living with one.

There are some places that can't be touched and there are some places that can't be kissed and there are some places that need to be kissed and some of those places haven't been discovered. I'm a handbook. *** is like drivers ed. Am I crying, or shaking from pleasure? *****. Sometimes hands are there that aren't really. Sometimes fare fine linen fingers feel like brown bony paws that don't listen to "let go".
**** me. Even when my eyes get glossy and you're wondering if I'm still there. I'm there. Grab me. *** isn't always this way.

Sometimes I'm in charge, but it isn't freaky. Don't call me a freak, call me lovely. I can **** **** ****, but don't whisper that it's *****; it isn't "*****". Sweating and running make-up. Heavy breathing. Wheres my body, wheres my mind? Don't call it nasty. It's not "nasty". Grabbing, groping, grinding; it isn't lewd. Don't call me a ****.
Touch me and remind me that I'm pleasing. Touch me and remind me that there's only me. Touch me and enjoy it. Enjoy me.
I want the lights on. I want the lights off. I want you you you.

*** isn't always this way; sometimes I'm in charge.

I walk through my room
touch each book on my shelf
thinking of you in the shower
touching yourself

With an open book, I wish
these pages were your skin
I'd caress each one until
our narrative could begin

with your hand on my knee
and your lips on my wrist
I'll beg for you to take me
in our sweet summer tryst

your fingers trail lines
up and down my thigh
until I can bear it no longer
my lips produce a shaky sigh

a hitch in my breath
as I become wet and ready
and you'll push into me
keeping me steady

and whisper the filth
of all you'd like to do
tell me I'm beautiful
watch my pages unfold

and all my bindings break
and all the books shatter
leaflets fly through the room
you always knew how to flatter

and when my daydream cracks
alone, hour after hour
wondering if you think of me
when you're in the shower...

I can’t prevent the rain from falling,
Oh no, I can’t prevent the storm-
But I’ll be here for you when you’re frightened,
And craving shelter from it all.

Even though a drizzle,
Or a mighty hurricane-
I’ll brace the weather wholeheartedly,
If it means that you are safe.

For if the beast that’s brewing,
Is tearing down your forests limb by limb-
And the travesties he’s causing,
Are forcing you to walk with him-
I’ll take your hand so quickly,
And run with you so far away-
So this being can’t get hold of you,
And has to seek out other prey.

See darling your soul is mighty and pure,
Filled with comforts so serene-
And your mind is made up of fortresses,
Stronger than any part of me-
I’ll never give up if it means bringing you home,
To the comforts, you once knew-
The safety of your own body and mind,
Every beautiful part of you.

A broken mirror
A bleeding fist
A silver blade against a wrist
Tears falling down to lips unkissed
Ignore her and she won't exist
She's not that kind you'll come to miss

here you can flash,
here you may fall,
I'm ready to hug,
keep your cry,
... in your downfall.

Would it be nice if people would shut up
There would be a lot less noise pollution
If people would shut up
We could work

But no
You think your life is more important
And want the world to hear you
Just shut up
Some people just want some peace and quiet
I want some peace and quiet

Just learn to shut up
Be quiet
And keep your mouth shut

Oh, and as I said
Learn to SHUT UP!!!

Stress.

























































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Oh, and education, I guess.

At the end of the day, all things end.
When all is said and done, we are merely men.
Nearly men never find their true love.
We are left so close but never touched.
So far from being,
Always only ever seeing and dreaming,
While inside we remain…silently screaming.

too much of it means you're not living
too little, and it means the same thing

This time it's not the sadness that's keeping me awake at night
But it's the responsibility I have to face in the morning

Sleep tight.
Let yourself dream
Feel it until you're drawn into it
Settle in the arms that's holding you
Let him kiss your temple and caress your skin
Forget about the world, live and love

Close your eyes.
Let him whisper the words
Hear him out, hear his undying love
Let him embrace your soul
He love you

Rest yourself in the arms of the man who found you.

If I'm a ****,
it's because I let society
**** me on the daily.

Almost asleep when my phone ticked;
'A notification,' it says.
Your name was there, you liked my photo.
And my stomach drowned in butterflies--
Scratch that--moths, surely they're moths.
Stronger, buzzier, like your power
To occupy and stay in my brain
With that single heart emoji beside your name.
Thinking that the double tap
Is as if you love me just the same.

Facebook gave us a new look
Addicted to reading people's lives
Forgetting that we have ours to problematize

Messenger connected us to strangers
Being indulged in chatting with them
Dis-remembering those people,
People that are not virtual,
People that you have to catch up to

Twitter lets it all out,
Our problems, our thoughts, our whines, our woes
But while using twitter, you overlooked those around you
Those who're willing to listen to you
Those who can actually help you

Instagram lets us share photos with our loved ones
Photos where everyone looked delighted and felicitous
Photos that are pretentious
Only on photos do they seem happy
But in real life, they're constantly neglecting,
Neglecting and taking each other for granted

Why do we let social media measure our worth?
Is it really worthy?
Is it really that worthy to be connected to those who are far from you,
While sacrificing those people you love who are near you?