open your mind and breath while writing. let your thoughts wander to places it normally wouldn't. explore your deepest darkest concerns and your highest brightest hopes. highlight them. let the words flow from you. in time it will come easy.

do not fester with bold thoughts on the surface. everything is temporary and what seems so big of a problem, will recede to nothing but a shrug of a shoulder couldn't fix. focus on yourself when writing because your'e the only one listening.

my constant ricochet between happiness and utter sorrow is destroying me. My sadness comes in shades of black; there are no grays to even out the sadness that engulfs me.i cannot find the strength from within to stand on two strong feet and look my depression in the eye and tell her i am not putting up with it today. i involve myself in old habits when my bathroom floor is met as an old friend. i find myself rolled up in a ball at 2 am with only regret and tears in my hands. i let the harsh words roll off my tongue when i see myself in the mirror. the girl standing before me keeps trying to apologize for the mistakes those around her have made. she justifies them as her own fault and she cant keep a straight face when she talks about her own misery. i don't even know who she is. my best friend keeps reminding me that this isn't funny; keeps asking me why i'm laughing. i guess i don't know, there's a certain satisfaction in watching your world crumble and not having the slightest clue how to fix it. so, i sit with the group of guys talking about 'tripping *****' and 'getting so high they felt like they had two layers of skin.' i suppose we all have our own ways of dealing with the ever so faithful lover we call depression and i let myself believe that it hasn't gotten that bad yet. i still wake up everyday and go to work and smile and do all the things that would make my parents proud. because my well-being isn't determined by how much will it takes to put down the razor or how my bed always looks like the most inviting place. i find myself talking to a boy who continues to belittle me, continues to make me feel like only a choice. this is my own fault. i cannot let go of what's hurting me because it's making me feel alive and i realize how weak that makes me sound because my own pain is keeping me alive. my own pain is what helps me get out of bed in the morning. and i drive around all day and my only thought is how i want to lay in my bed and have everyone quiet down. depression has been a faithful lover and i have no idea how i might go about letting her go. so here i am in my dark room worrying about tomorrow and how that boy didn't text me back and i think i'm more messed up than i allow myself to believe these days.

we all know that i'm insane, but these thoughts that drag on in my head like shackles on concrete- they ring loud and i cannot stop grabbing my head in pure agonizing pain. i cannot hear my cries at night because it's just too much. i feel as if i'm going to loose my hair, either from me pulling it out or from fear. what am i afraid of? everything. every move i make, every breath i take- there it is-something so much bigger than i am. it holds me down, strangles me in the depth of my depression. i think it's comfort. i am not strong enough to free myself.

So here we are; human. All skin and bones, organs and muscles. Our parents tell us we can be whatever we want to be. They say, "find yourself." They tell us to love whomever we choose and to love them with whatever we have. They tell us to treat others the way you want to be treated, to thank everyone who opens the door for us.

So here I am-skin and bones, ***** and muscles. I'm traveling through life doing exactly what I was taught to do and that was to be myself. I drive down the street and I sing to the radio. And people laugh-a lot of people laugh. But I love freedom. I love when I can feel the wind in my hair. I love reminding myself that I am still alive. That the people laughing are alive too.

And they are human, and sometimes we forget that. Every step that we take, we are moving along this life and it's so short and so beautiful and sometimes it's terrible. But don't ever forget that you're alive. That the road is always taking us somewhere, even if its a dead end. Because we don't always need pavement to follow our dreams. We don't need signs to tell us how fast we can go, because we're all moving at our own pace. And sometimes the dead end roads lead to the best hiding spots, and your greatest ideas come at red lights, but I never want to stop moving-I never want to turn around and go back. Because the past always looks more wonderful then the present and the future, things start happening. And I was always taught that 'things' is an oatmeal word, but so are a lot of words. And I got this idea to write a poem while I was waiting for a friend and I realized how lucky I am. Because people leave all the time. And she hasn't. Some of us have heard all the '...I'm leaving you' speeches and my heart goes out to the people who didn't receive them. Because leaving should never be done in silence. But when people leave, they stay inside of you forever, whether you like it or not. So you can sit at the red light every morning before work and ponder why they left...or you can just let it go. Because people leave every day and it doesn't make it any easier. But our parents taught us to thank everyone who opens the door for us but this is me sincerely thanking every one of you for closing it behind me.