I hate you,
I despise you,
I loath you!
Because you make me feel nothing but,
Pain, and disappointment about myself!
All you care about is making fun of me,
and mentally & emotionally torturing me!
I'm sick of it, I want the freedom I never had!

You care about my grades, not my tears...
You don't even know when I cry, unless it's in front of your eyes.

I hate you, I love you, but I can never forgive you.
Mum & Dad.

"God bless it, what are you doing to me?"
He thought to himself quietly.

They had jumped together from a cliff, into a natural pool.
And he was given a harded stool.
-
He grabbed some soap, for which she was glad.
Finally a bath, something clean and grand,
Approaching him again, as the water bends.
Her hands grabbed his own, the soap intact. Rubbing the suds in her soft hands.

She rubbed his cheek, he felt the tingles and jolts. As she pinched his other cheek, playfully.
He giggled and chuckled, pinching her nose during this playful matter.
As the water became a splatter.
He cleaned her, and she had cleaned him.
Just the two of them.
No one else.
Just them.
He begged for the moment to never end.

He'd been touched by her, and he loved the feeling,
he wanted her close, so she wasn't for the taking.

"Just a simple peck, nothing intense." he thought sweetly,
he yearned to touch her again, to feel her again.

"Do we have time?" She asked, as he looked at the positioned sun.
"No, we have to go back."

This saddened him, for he wanted to be in the water forever,
just with her and him together.

The chilling wind that drops it's temperature as Autumn sets in with the now crumbling leaves that begin to fall in the chill of approaching winter.

How I used to smile and laugh before was a month ago, I often think to myself that I should stand in the rain, and be drenched in the tears that God whimpers out over our pitiful humanity
Life is a never ending struggle designed that way.
Designed for disaster.

Paper holds more value to someone then anothers life.
A chase kiss holds more passion then a one night stand.
An animal keeps the runt for as long as possible, while humans discard their own.

We pay, we trade, we slaughter, we cower.
His grip is strong, pinning me down with ease by my wrists, I have no hope. But yet I keep fighting back, trying to slap the girl who keeps crawling back to those pills and that **** needle she feels so lonely without.
Hypnotic in the moment he is, slowly holding out my arm with an injection in the other hand, letting the needle scrape against my skin gently, before piercing the cold flesh.

I'm addicted to this pain that I keep constantly feeling all because I get a head turn or even one word to leave your mouth. I'm in a tranquil garden of lies that I hide behind my "Okay" facade.

I hate all these people around me,
they have plans for the future.
Knowing what they'll do, and what they'll be.
But how can you choose something like..that so quickly?
Mine is going down, I don't know exactly what I want,
nor what I want to be.
I'm not good at anything, where will I be able to go?
The slums, the street, outside a bar smoking ****!?

Yes everyone goes through something, and everyone has problems,
but some of them are so strong.
They get through it, and live their life.
I'm not one of them, I'm not a team player, and I'm not a problem slayer, and I'm not a prayer.

I'd rather change. Be something new, and needed for the world.
To have a purpose.
But I can't change, and I'm not a machine.
Even though I'd rather be.

A quiet room, only a pencils words to be heard.
But it's all secretly a riot. A tranquil, and amazing place that some yearn.
Truth be told, they scramble, and scribble. Biased to one thing, but feel like it's missing something. They search and search, looking for it. A plot, a story to tell.

But everything is a rush. In a single ring of a bell.

Heart rate increases as I fight back and forth with words of wits,
your words sinking into my thoughts, killing my peace,
drowning my own essence of rebellion.

Every comment is kicking me on the ground, keeping me down underneath the crashing waves of your statements.
It’s highly intoxicated with salt.
Strong, tangy, and bitter.

But your fangs always seem to seep out and attach themselves to my limbs and secrete a venom of negativity, allowing my thoughts to become poisonous to thyself.

I’m trying to change, I’m trying to be different now, can’t you see? A new day is approaching, as the sun takes its dive into the sea of star lit space, and allows the coolness of the night to embrace this side of the world.

But even if the end draws near, I still fear that your antics, will just gain unwanted attention directed towards me.
“You should know this by now!”
“What do you find so difficult!?”
“Why can’t you remember!?”

Violent words equal to violent outbrakes,
Do not antagonize a beast, for it will threaten back,
and we all know that it does not slack.
Your bitter poisonous words, have corrupted my thoughts, and that has made me what I am today.

Unhappy with myself.

One day. It'll be a beautiful day.
And I won't be able to see it.
I'll be blind.
Blind by grief, or regret.
Or possibly other emotions
Maybe so many emotions, I can't handle or understand anymore!

All I know is, one day.
I'll be blinded.

We breath together.
We breath as one.
Then one, bites their tongue.
He drops to the floor, oh what a galore!
The air is thick, and hard to swollow.
Deep breaths.
A suffocating wish.
A suicide wish.
The earth is ruined, polluted and dead.
Bye Bye Earth.
Hello Death.

No matter how dark of a light you see yourself in,
Just know that I can never see you that way.

The music chimes around everyone, as the clowns come out.
There for fun and happiness, don't trust them little one.
The balloons are filled with poison, and if popped, you know the result.

Do not give into their lies about joyous adventures and fun, fun, fun!
Never run away with the circus, the singer is out back, smoking her *** with the lions.
The acrobats are in their carriage making out.
The knife thrower is popping his pills, his costume covering the bandages from the encoring crowd
The clowns leading little girls into the forest, with a cheery smile.
A vile smile.
"It's just a game, now be quiet"

The elephants being whipped and running in circles,
a bear riding a little bike,
the horses gasping for air and dying for a drink.
How evil.

The ringleader getting off inside all the dancers, his performers, his workers. What a wonderful man.
The tent has risen, high and mighty on the east side of America, luring in the innocence of others that just want to feel joy.
Least some survive and are not touched by the vile truth, and are forced to dive down into acceptance.

They are not happy.
They are evil.
Real.

A cloud of smoke leaves the singers mouth, as her eyes are covered in a red shading, her green eyes popping out.
The knife throwers container dropped to the floor, his body throwing up blood, tearing itself up piece by piece.
A flashlight growing over the clown in the woods.

The girls leave the ringleaders carriage, as he throws his head back, consuming liquid courage, fighting off his demons from the past.

No one is truly happy, this is the real world.
Cruel, Corrupt, Sick, Twisted.
Wrong

If you’re depressed and wanna **** yourself clap your hands
clap clap
If you’re depressed and wanna **** yourself clap you hands
clap clap
If you’re depressed and you know it and you really wanna show it,
If you’re depressed and wanna **** yourself clap your hands
*clap clap

Frankly, I hate living
It's filled with so much, ****.

I hate being me, I hate being this thing, this person that I've grown so accustom to, I hate her.
I loath her, yet . . . I can not stop her, she is just there.
Eating away at my past, and forming my dreadful so called future.

I fear what she is capable of, and what power she truly has over me,
But who is Me?

I'm truly lost and broken, torn away from that little girl,
that short little girl that was so happy and ready for anything, always voicing her opinion, standing up for herself and others.

Dear God, what happened to that little purple flower?
Why did she wither away, and fray into a navy blue?
The tendrils of her roots sinking themselves deeper into the earth, her vines not strung up on thin string, holding her up like a puppet.

Music drones out her demonic thoughts, but then the lyrics touch her heart, and she quickly darts, changing over to her Electro, blaring it strong into her eardrums.

Boom. Boom. Boom.
Finally . . . Peace.
Until the next song.

Her tears make fled, on her pillow head.
In the darkened night, she holds her pillow tight.
As she tries to be quiet.

Enduring the torture that my own body gives me, cramps and stings and knives that bleed me.
A flood of red liquid many know as blood, I imagine it on my wrists when I feel the tingling warming sensation at the bottom of my arm.

I’m lost in a current when I remember back to being with the bright blue sky, but then I think to now and how I’m pushed under your ocean deep octaves, and dark brooding ground eyes.
These waves that crash over me take a drastic turn as my own stomach churns, constricting me, bleeding me, killing me.

Like my own thoughts weren’t enough to drown my head with the sights of him, but it would continue and I’d see her there too, and then I’d imagine finally finishing it.
But how do I do it?

Do I slit my wrists? And let my body dribble dry.
Do I swing from the ceiling? And let my body sway from side to side.
Do I jump off from a high place? And let my body crumble from gravity.
Do I swallow and choke down pills? And let my body bubble and grumble.

I can’t eat, I can barely sleep, and the stress keeps letting me get depressed. More and more I sink.

Underneath the deep blue sea

I know you’re there.
Waiting for me.
Staying by me.
Yet this craving of physical intimacy,
It never succeeds, because you’re not here,
You Are Not Here
Here with me, though I wish you would and could be.
It’s frightening and scary, even if I know,
But deep in my soul,
I feel a distance from you,
Distant from you.

And I Don’t Know How To Tell You.

All I wish to say to you people,
oh so much problems that can be solved,
But no, you wish for them to inflict me with burns.

A Bare Flare.
Fire that stings, your words are poison, while my rage is hell.
You have no idea what I do, or what I feel, none at all.
I hate you, you seemed like you were interested, like you cared, like you were trying to get closer to me.

Like Hell You Were.

How many times have I wanted to hang from the ceiling?
How many times have I wanted to take those pills?
How many time have I wanted to throw myself off?
Do you know?

No.
Shut up.

You.
All you do is *****, and complain to me, asking what the ******* can do,
Well guess what, you can't do ****.
I never ******* asked you to do anything, because I know you can't do anything, *****, *****, *****!

"We're trying to help you"
Does yelling ever solve a problem?
"What are we supposed to do? What do you want us to do?"
When did I make a request?

Unsheathing your words and plunging them into my back, the flying poison tipped arrows, killing me slowly, I'm going to snap.
Shatter, and break and crack.
I hate it, and I hate you two, you ******* two.
**** pair those ones, just a ******* joke now days, least that's how I see it.
. . .
Shut the **** up and listen to me for Gods sake,
I hate myself, and I want to end everything, because you never help never at all and it's ridiculous, ******* stupid.
Now shut up while I'm speaking, I'm talking here
When did I ever ask you to do anything?
When the **** did this conversation suddenly turn into this *******?

Again.

You think you know me, your kid, your child, spawn, offspring.
You Don't.
Maybe you'll realize that when I'm gone.
Sorry I'm not good enough for you arseholes.

I wanna leave, so I plan to, hopefully far far away from you lot,
I don't want to see you, I don't want to be near you, the thought of you two is making me sick.
Let me ask once more - if you actually let me finish,
Do You Really Know Me?

"Dance! Dance my darling!" He cheers.
Her gloved hand fixed in his, as her dress swirls around.
The space is cleared, as the audience goggles.
Masked and fake.
His triumphant smirk bright and wide, as he focuses on her eyes.
Emerald
A gorgeous green that makes her stand out, her brunette waved locks curling out,
and her red dress, beautifully painted.

As the sea of mysterious eyes of masked viewers watch intently.
Around them seems dark, a circle of light is where they dance.
And now,
the final stance.

Releasing her was unthinkable, breathless as they were.
He was certain he'd ravish her.

I’m alone, that I can not change, but I can for my tone.
I’m hopeless, I’m stupid, I’m a pitiful being, whom is so tired of weeping.

Night, after night, tears streaming down ones face, always ending up in a similar place.
The pillow.

I do not wish to drown in my own sorrow, my own broken tears and shattered dreams and the burning wishful thinking.
I do not want to be that child, that girl you say is too young to love, too young to feel any emotion, but what I feel is real and what you’re doing to me feels like you’re trying to choke me.

You’re strangling me with your words, though you think that you’re being nice, or not too harsh at all, it felt like I had just been punched in the face. A dull, numbing sensation of the after taste, from a fist once in the air, then crushing me down with despair.

I do not wish to be weak, I do not wish to feel in pain, and I do not wish to feel lonely.

That is my greatest enemy, the crippling anxiety that stomps down on my fear, my nightmare, my little trouble that I resent.
I have to go through this because I am unable to leave your grasp just yet, but once I do I’ll be free, and maybe, just maybe.

I’ll be okay.

Scribble here, and there.
And all the way over there.
Enjoying her words on the page.
Her feelings on a stage.

I hate you. The person who taught me a valuable lesson that I don't regret.
But now there's someone new, and I'm happier than before because I'm finally moving on from you.

'Giving up' is a saying. But so many know that it is life's tow.
We fight, we play, and we yell horray.
Our days filled with youth and joy and other stuff.
But when you grow up and are caught in deaths trap, you'll realise, it's a bluff.
We are born, and we live a life, but then we die.
So really...

We Were Born To Die.

Here I Lie.
In my life.
On these words.
In these pages.
In this book I have created.
Turn me upside down and throw me on the ground.
I'm still here, I'm still breathing, and I'm still living.
I'm not happy, I'm not sad, I'm not mad, I'm not glad.
I'm everything and nothing, deep inside.
I'm empty but full.
Just half and half.

Here I Lie, Here I Lie.
That's me when I die.
But when will I die? And when will I strive?
And only God knows when I'll drown under the tide.
If you're here, and you bothered to read.
Thank you.
Thank you dearly, for listening to my words in your own voice.
And because reading this was your choice.

He holds me.
In this pleasing squeeze.
And keeps it from touching me.

How do I put this?
What do I say?
I guess I’ll just lay it out this way.
You’re gone, and I can’t do anything about it.
I’m sad, sure, angry, not really..
I don’t know why, but I feel like I’ve just passed the stages of grief,
within a day?
Maybe less than that.
I did not experience denial, I tried to keep calm, and wiped the tears from my eyes, so I could see what I was putting on the screen, and what you were sending back to me.
I did not feel anger inside me, I was civil and respectful of your decision, and did not lash out with any kind of rebuttal.
There was no attempt to convince myself otherwise with bargaining,
I still have hope, because you presented it to me.
I did however feel sad, lonely, empty, depressed,
Because you left me, just like that,
Cry I did, but I can’t really help that.

I met acceptance with shy little steps, and a quiet introduction,
even though I’d much rather be confident, but I know that’s difficult.

The future holds either so much or so little for me.
I do not know which, but I truly do hope, that maybe,
possibly.

We might be okay again some day.

Where am I?
What am I doing?
Where am I going?
What will happen to me?

Maybe things would be easier, if I was born earlier, back in the 90's,
I mean sure the early 2000's weren't too bad, but things just got a bit complicated and no one can understand anymore.

It's not like there's a tour.

People here and people there, some more fortunate or favourable than others, I'm not in that bad of a situation, I'll admit.
But I do feel sad,
scared, distant, different.
I'm not too significant either, If I were to die, well.
I think that'd be alright.

I won't be missed too much, and eventually the memory of me will leave, and I'll be forgotten gracefully.
Sounds nice doesn't it?
Don't ya think?
No? Just me?

Though my times at the moment are in my own opinion are, tiring, and difficult and ****** confusing, it's like taking an eternal U turn honestly!
I like people, I do, and I also don't like people, that's definitely true.
I mean seriously, who likes everybody?
They're not all your type

Where was I going with this? I had a point! (getting to the second paragraph of an assignment)

I think I was leading up to something like this?
Basically, live how you need until you have freedom, live that the way you want, play all the time; not with others feelings mate!, enjoy the thrill, drive fast once in a while, and play your music loud.

Clap, clap, clap
Boom, boom, boom
Bang, bang, bang
Let the base take you away.
That's just life.

I do not care to give a crap
I do not care to share my words of advice
I do not care what you think of me.

I’m done, that’s it!
End of this story between you and me, the end that was always meant to be. You walked with me, and I opened the door, then you walked out on me and left me while I rested in blissful sleep.

I awoke to an empty bed, and the thought of drugs in my head, my body stripped bare to the bone, as you had walked out with everything I owned, least that’s what I thought.

I had no material goods left, I had no skin, no muscle and no blood. Just bone.

I thought no one would ever love me, because it was the same **** again and again just with someone new. I was losing hope in myself and everyone else around me thinking I’d be alone forever.

But then I caught a train.

Okay.
Such a pitiful word, it describes nothing.
Yet everything.
I'm okay, I say nearly everyday.
But *I'm not okay, and I don't want to play.
"Not being okay..is okay"
It's not okay, to be that though.
No, not at all.

I want to go back, back through it all.
Fix it, mend it, prevent it from happening.
But it did.
And I can't.

Words on a screen...
So fulfilling and sweet
A voice on a mic..
Clear and comforting

The ideas of beauty filling my head, but what if it's a lie again?
I don't want to be like that, or to feel like that again.

It's confusing and tempting, luring me with nice thoughts, but it brings on the memories of this happening once before, where everything in the sky was so bright and blue, filled with fresh dirt and golden sand dunes.
But twists of the tongue that makes your words. won't fool me, but they call me, promising the caress of care and affection, but maybe even a hidden agenda?

I wouldn't know, I'm too scared.
again.

The static settles, finally I see a channel that isn't a rainbow,
And the voices are clear as the day, no rain.
I have no stakes, as I watch this show,
trying to ignore this feeling, this little tow.

Even if I put my music in, nice and loud, just to try and drown it all away, it helps like medicine, but it will always come back eventually,
I'm not a cute little doe, but you are a mighty buck, strength resides in you, while weakness envelopes me and my fear,
I tremble internally

I'm not going to be with anyone, and no one is going to be with me, they all hate me, I know it, I feel it, especially from the buck now.
Antlers powerful and strong, ready to knock me down, stab me into the ground, let my blood pour and stain your hands.
Do It.

Please.

I am desperate not to feel these things anymore,
these emotions that have come to me, with steadily realisation that they are real, I've discovered the cancer inside me, from the cigarette butts that were your voice and laugh that consumed me, and your hugs of blanket warmth, the disease that has settled within me.

You've infected my brain, like drugs have done to addicts.