Insane,
is one word I could use to describe myself,
as well as,
Utterly compulsive,
you know, about everything that doesn't matter anyway,
Beautifully flawed,
in my own, wonderful way,
Emotional,
in the worst of ways,
Neurotic,
about absolutely everything,
Fast paced,
so fast you can't keep up with me, physically, or emotionally,
and finally,
Completely unsure,
you know, of myself,
and who I'm supposed to be.

So this is what it's like to feel alive
it's nice to finally meet this feeling again,
after months wrapped in a cocoon of self-loathing.
When he touches me, my skin shutters like a tsunami just
rolled onto the coast of Jersey,
shaking the whole **** state.
Heart pumping electricity into my veins,
leaving the ends of my hair sizzling,
and a smile on my face.
Awestruck by the way he says my name.
It sounds like poetry.
He is poetry.
Hands caressing hands and
lips touching gently,
I couldn't dream up a better piece of art
if I tried for years.

I feel like I'm thirteen again,
staring into that same pair of
amazing eyes.
He makes me feel euphoric.
His smile is a sunrise that I
want to see every single morning.
The feeling in the pit of my stomach
hasn't changed.
He is still my kryptonite,
even four years later.

When my hands become too shaky too write,
and my eyes too crusted over to see,
be sure to buy me a tape recorder,
because for the rest of my life,
my emotions will be set free.

Don't mistake beauty,
for the truth,
Instead, dig deep,
and look beneath,

For theres always a lie hiding,
behind even the purest of eyes,
and while she may be smiling,
shes secretly dying inside,

Dying to become known as real,
instead of just what people see,
dying to tell the truth,
instead of living the secrets shes tried so hard to keep,

"And whats the point of living,
if as we age, we only get closer to the sky"
she whispered in an almost inaudible tone,
and she simply said no more,
because no one, can tell the secrets of the unknown

I see beauty in scars,
I see beauty in emotions,
Because it shows all you've been through,
And all that you've gained,

I see beauty in scars,
Because they show you've lived
Through the good and the bad,
The happy, as well as the sad,
That you've lived through it all,
And that you came out strong, on the other side of it all,

They show you've been hurt,
But your also strong enough to heal,
They make you stronger,

I've always believed that,
And I'll always live to make it true.

Late night thinking,
Will be the death of me,
Theres too much to think about,
I can barely breathe,

Thoughts,
They cloud my mind,
Suffocate me,
All the time,

If I could stop thinking,
And just shut off my mind,
I'd do it in a heartbeat,
Just to stop the suffering,

If I could speed up time,
I would,
Just to go to a better time,
Where things weren't so **** hard,

I really have to stop thinking,
Its really beginning to **** me,
Like I said guys,
Thinking will be the death of me,

Why won't my mind shut up?
And let me sleep,
I think I deserve some peace,
Because I'll have to face tommorow with a brave face,
No matter how much I'd rather stay asleep.

Sometimes, the girl with the biggest smile,
Has the most pain to hide,
That girl that always says shes fine,
Is holding all the tears inside,
The girl that always seems so happy,
She solves her problems, by drawing lines,
So, next time she says shes fine,
You'll know its a lie,
Because she may look happy on the outside,
But on the inside, she's dying.

Sometimes I drag you down.

Can't handle it when you go out
because your freedom unintentionally mocks
my caged-in state, clanks a mug against the bars
of my prison. I didn't pick this.

Didn't pick an age that came with limitations,
but I guess I'm stuck with it
and **** you're stuck with me,
stuck with my shaky words that come from
shakier hands. Stuck with breathy phone calls
when I'm sad and don't have the heart to tell
you that no one actually has the power to fix it.

Stuck with these eyes that imitate thunderstorms when I'm being just
a tad bit melodramatic.
What do thunderstorms look like
through those kaleidoscope eyes of yours?
I bet they look like depression in a bottle,
ready to be forced down like shots of anything
that'll make me forget.
I'm beginning to understand why people
become alcoholics and that's terrifying.

You're stuck with everything I've ever been
and everything I'll ever be. Truth is I've ruined
every good time you've tried to have since you
got together with me. And I'm sorry.
I'm sorry for being a buzzkill. I'm sorry for worrying. I'm sorry for wishing I could just go with you and I'm sorry I can't.

You swear my age doesn't bother you but I'm
afraid sooner or later it might begin to.
Your age means freedom, mine means
nine o'clock curfew on school nights
and eleven o'clock ******* bedtime.

I'm an adult in a child's body. Betrayed by the number of years I've been alive.

instead of dancing in the rain we
let it chain us to the bed post
and i don't think i'll ever forget how
your hands felt at two am when
you should have been home but instead
our legs became tangled and you abandoned
the idea of sleep and took the time to devour me.

One moment,
Suspended in time,
Your hand fills mine,
The rest of the world is
Gone,
All thats left,
Is you,
and me,
For what I hope will be
An eternity

Sad but true,
Because of you,
Here I lay,
In pieces,
Broken.
Scattered every which way,
And theres nothing left to save,
This is what I get,
For telling you I was okay,
And now,
Here I lay,
Broken.

What is the definition of emotion?
Is it a feeling? No. It's the power to feel,
Only certain people master this, others just seem to fail,
Step into the other persons shoes. Look from the other point of view,
Then, maybe you'll know what its like to hurt,
To express emotion is human nature,
So go on, tell someone you care,
Tell someone you know what they're going through,
Make it about somebody else, instead of you,
The earth doesn't revolve around you, this I don't believe you'll ever understand,
So what is emotion, you ask again,
It's something not many people have nowadays,
The power to show you care,
People lack this,
If someone needs you, just show them you're there.

It hurts to know that you,
could slip through my fingers,
like sand through an hourglass,
over something as simple,
as substance.
It's always been love over substance,
has it not been clear?

But yet I'm finding it,
hard to let go of something,
that's held me, and propped me up,
for ever so long.

It's always been love over substance,
but your trying to change my habits,
my way of life,
and all I'm trying to change,
is your mind.

Everyday,
You make me feel,
Beautiful

The day passes by,
With one million smiles,
Because your there,

Making it,
All worthwhile,
To live like a child,
With her first love.

You and me,
Would go far,
If you would just
Realize,

That you are my muse,
My number one,
And I want you,
To love me too.

Forever and more.

Two hearts,
Melt together,
As one soul,
Together,

Forever and more.

My head is a ward
of things unknown to the normal one.
Insults trace my skin preparing
for entrance.
Words like a knife to skin,
You poison the mind.
With the scalpel in hand,
You enter the black box in my head,
And hit record, preparing for
the end of me.

If this is reality i don't wanna be a part anymore;

take me to a place where bones don't rattle
like tin cups against prison cell doors when you're alone
on your sofa questioning when the right time is to end it all.
A place where teeth don't grind like subway car
wheels when coming to a sudden stop.
My anxiety is swallowing me like a storm out at sea,
the saddest part is I'm letting it,
submitting to it's foul tongue like it will feed
instead of eat away at me until I'm rail thin
and no longer have the desire to eat,
because, why beat a dead horse?

Every coping mechanism I've created over the years
fails to keep my breathing even now,
my reflection screams failure and busy streets
look like exit signs. I don't want to live like this.
Getting high just to get by isn't cutting it anymore.
I keep trying to tell myself I'll be okay,
but the silver slivers and dashing headlights
are so enticing I don't know how long I'll last.

On a cool spring day,
I feel the tears stream down my face,
Still wondering why I scream,
And waste my breath,

You'll never listen, and even when you do,
The next day you don't remember a thing I've said,
So theres simply no point in wasting,
The little air I've got left,

Now, the day the oxygen ceases to flow to your head,
Thats the day I'll be happy again,
Things will be okay once you're dead,
And as harsh as it may be to hear these words coming off of my tongue with such ease,
You're slowly driving me closer to insanity.

There are things that schools,
have simply forgotten to teach us.
Things that you're better off
once you know.
Like how the sun always follows
a rainy day.
Or that you're only as happy as
you'll let yourself be.

The simple things, that no teacher
has ever learned to teach
are the things that fuel us to keep going.
As long as your feet are on the ground,
it's never a bad thing to explore the clouds,
and to never let the negativity
grow to more than a whisper
in the back of the mind.

These are the codes to life
wake up; smile.
Be thankful for what you have,
and always be hopeful of receiving more,
because no amount of happiness
is "too much"
and remember that bad things
are only temporary.

Bad things may come in threes,
but so do good things,
and the lessons taught by our trials
are more valuable than gold.
If your nose is pointed at the ground,
you'll never smell the coffee
So chin up, smile.

Teachers never taught us happiness.
never taught us the delicacy required
to wipe away tears.
Never taught us how to deal with
sudden cases of sorrow.
These lessons will take us
the longest to learn.

So here's to a new curriculum,
one that teaches pain.
Because you can't learn to smile,
without having once felt tears
streaming down your face.
But also one that has an extensive
lesson planned on joy.
Just so you really know the difference.

Oh, darling.

Sweet one, you've not a clue,
of the things I wish.

The things,
the things I wish upon you.

Maybe not then, but definitely now,
after all that you've put me through.

May you wake on a bed of nails,
and watch in horror as they press into your skin.

May your hair catch fire and burn to your scalp,
oh darling, may you never have hair again.

I'm done wishing well,
and hoping things work out.

The strings inside this girl have broken,
may the unraveling begin.

My soul carries the burden,
of more than a thousand unsaid words,
and on occasion, they strangle me,
grip my vocal cords and squeeze,
until mutism seems like a good thing.
When words try to find their way up my throat,
they are gagged down like a first taste of strong alcohol,
when you're sixteen, and trying to drink away the pain,
but can't stomach the bourbon or the regret,
so you pour it down the drain, and curl up,
next to the toilet, trying to heave away the poison,
you've just forced on yourself.
If I could find a speaking voice,
I'd scream at the top of my lungs,
begging you to see what your foul thoughts do to me.
Waking up to screaming, set like an alarm clock,
must not be too good for the  psyche,
for I am falling apart like the seams of,
a sweater worn with age.
But you can't be wrong.
God have mercy, never tell her she is wrong.
She justifies her mistakes,
with the pain she bottles up,
like an over-filled balloon,
ready to pop,
and knock the wind out of you,
with it's own.
This cycle will never change,
though in the midst of it all,
I don't see myself as misfortunate,
for whether or not I set an alarm,

I will always wake up.

I.
Nicotine seems to replace air in my lungs.

II.
I have a mellow dramatic trying to reach me.

III.
He's armed with poetry and cruel words.

IV.
He also seems to think I don't notice he reeks of desperation

V.
And, he seems to think I care.

VI.
The one I love is too far away.

VII.
I need to bring him near.

VIII.
The scent of his skin won't leave my nostrils.

IX.
Depression is suffocating me,

X.
It knows I want it to stick around.

XI.
Depressions like leather. Dead but warm.

XII.
It feels like home.

XIII.
I don't ever want to go home.

XIV.
I'll turn 15 in less than a week.

XV.**
But yet I still won't have grown.