it's 6:10 in the evening,
i wouldn't prefer to be here
i'd rather much choose to leave.
it's not like i have the biggest choice.
though being with you,
is one of them.
being with you,
rather than listening
to boy bands sing
about how girls
should love theirselves.
as i said,
i'd much rather leave
with you by my side.
A year ago I sat in bed and cried.
I cried because I never fit in.
I cried because school was hard and I didn’t understand.
I cried because I loved but was not loved back.
I cried because I fell in with the wrong crowd.
I cried because I was sick of crying.
I cried because at several points..
Death seemed easier.
This year I sat in bed and cried.
I cried because I felt like I fit in.
I cried because I started getting A’s.
I cried because I loved and was loved back.
I cried because I’m finally with the right crowd.
I cried because I was happy.
I cried because I finally realized..
People weren’t being cliché when they said it gets better because it really does.
When you let go of the negative
And embrace the positive,
When you decide to smile
Instead of frown,
When you destroy your demons
And stop listening to them,
When you open your windows
And breathe the life around you,
You finally feel this wondrous sensation
sadly, this isn't a poem. nor is it anything worth reading; however, I feel as if this is the only source of life I have.
I think I was recovering, but I failed myself. I am no longer the many years sober as I once was - I havd nothing to be proud of.
I am miserable & I hate myself.
it has appeared to me that I have been
so terribly upset and ungrateful.
until I met you, I haven't been able to
see the light from the dark.
you make me smile,
and for once, I am happy.
I met a boy today who told me he liked me.
he was gorgeous like a summer sunset, just like he described me.
I told him that I felt amazing with him by my side, but I was too late.
He had grew older.
I don't know what the hell this is, I'm sorry.
his eyes were like the northern lights
the way they shined so loud and looked so bright
the way his nose would crinkle along with his eyes as he heard about a fascinating journey once made by my granddad
he'd always lean up on his elbows going forward as if the closer he got the more realistic the story would get and oh the places he'd go
beauty was his name and I was quite lucky to call him mine though now he's alone in the cold and sadly I'm spoiled with warmth