When the sun is shining bright
And butterflies fly around,
The birds whistle with delight
And kids roll on the ground,
So innocent and carefree.
But soon when clouds hide the sun's light,
the butterflies go unnoticed,
The bird's sounds unheard,
The kids, grown up,
Get involved in the real world.

Nothing has changed.
I still feel drained.
I am still the heartbroken girl I was months ago.
You really would think I would know.
But I fall time and time again.
Thinking that maybe this time they'll actually want to be my friend.
But it's always a lie.
Or the love always will die.

Because who could love a girl like me. and everyone loves a boy like him. and there always be a him that I will fall in love with things will never be alright the broken hearted girl.

I've written
countless drafts.
Crumpled up the paper,
thrown it away,
only to write a slightly different version the next day.

This has gone on for years.
Once you start the debate of suicide,
it never really goes away.
Everything gets weighed in,
good and bad.

"Oh you failed your math test?
might as well give up everything.
You missed the shot and your team lost because of you?
why are you still here?
You donated blood? What are you overcompensating for?"

Its not like I want to die,
that's not why I keep writing these and have tried once,
no, I just want to stop the pain.
Enduring intolerable existence
just to spare everyone around some questions to ponder.

Only part of me wants the freedom the act grants,
release from everything,
a life ruined a long time ago.
And that's the part that I wish I could
****.

The part that makes me question
every knife,
crosswalk,
rooftop,
as a rehearsal for tragedy.

If the news tells you
someone died from sleeping pills,
you must know that isn't true.
They died of grief,
a slow bleed from the very soul.

Killing myself is an inaccurate term,
I think its more accurate to say that we are just
worn down by the long, hard struggle to stay alive.
Suicide is thought of as just giving up, with no fight.
Couldn't be further from the truth.

To live is the most painful thing
I could ever imagine.
I'm weak, and unwilling to fight anymore.  
I may not be able to tear out a single page of my story,
but I can throw the entire book into a fire.

*I want to tell you everything, but I can't.
Because you'd have that look on your face.
I just want to be able to pretend I'm normal, even though I'm not.
I don't want to see you hurt by my pain,
I don't want to hurt you, or anyone else.
So, please, forget about me.
Just try and find a better friend than I have ever been.

She's thousands of miles away
And I am here
You love her despite the distance
And I'm standing five feet away, screaming at you
I could lie and say she is good for you
But I can't lie to you
Chose me, pick me
Let me be the one
Love me and not her
I know she is what you want
But I'm what you need
You're so perfect in my eyes
I could show you by hugging you, kissing your lips, and holding you
But her internet hugs are apparently better
Oh but the way I feel about you could make galaxies explode
And well she is just some ******* the internet

Such good poets on here!
You guys are awesome.
Y'all make my life better.

:-)