On average, 1 person commits suicide every 16.2 minutes.

How many more people have to **** them selves before society realizes some thing is wrong?

How many more kids, trapped between highschool walls, decide the only way out is to go up?

How many more news stories?

How much death does it take to prove a point?

How many more people need to see their own blood spill, watching their own life force deplete as they bleed themselves dry?

How many more Amanda Todds and Kurt Combains will it take?

How many pills must poison blood streams, slowly killing it’s victims from the inside out?

How many ropes must hang from ceiling fans?

How many more people need to lose their best friend?

How many more mothers lose their son?

How many fathers must lose their little girl?

How Many, how many does it take for society to realize there is something not right here?

I believe that the things we think about at 4 am define who we are and what we truly care about. For example, when I was awake at times in the night when it's considered to be extremely early morning I thought of how lucky I am that my feet haven't worn down like my sneakers. That my body can still carry me even though my mind and soul are weakened. I thought of how beautiful you look when you're sweating even though that might be weird in some cases.
   I'd think about how I want to slash highways into my forearms that would give a pathway for a better life. One where I'm not tormented by the fact that so many more of my friends are capable of having normal every day lives when I, am not. A life where calling a business or family member didn't mean a panic attack. The gushing of air repeatedly into and out of my lungs fills me with panic and hopelessness.
   I'd think about how I want to spend every day with my new family but I can't. I want to tell them I love them but I can't because showing emotions makes me weaker. It shows that I can barely stand on my own two feet, that the second my family leaves I'll be torn down. Piece by piece the bricks fall out, my head in shambles I become nothing again.
   I think how badly I'd love to kiss you. But I can't. I think our minds show what we care about. I care about you, my family. But wouldn't you be so much better off without me?

I am quiet. I am shy. But don’t you dare think for a minute that that means I have no voice. I am short, and I don’t speak unless called on, but don’t you dare think that that means that I am any less of a person. I have a voice, and I will be heard. I was forgotten on the bus because I was too quiet, too small, too shy. I am afraid to look people in the eye, to walk past a male without feeling in danger. I have been shoved, pushed, squished, and squashed! So I am fed up, and trust me, you don’t want to make me mad.

I am 14, I am a female, and I have a voice! I have opinions, and you **** well better listen! I will have opinions about my life, and I will have a say in the matter. You can try to put me down, but I’m already short! You wanna know why us short people have such fiery tempers? It’s because we are closer to hell. And we will give it to you too.

Don’t you dare tell me that I can’t. I can do anything, and I will do it better than you ever could. I was captain of my baseball team for 5 years. Yes, that’s right boys, I, the quiet, nerdy, small girl bossed your ***** around on the field.

My step-father insists I have no voice. Now, as I’ve said before, you know I do. My step-father insists that I am too young, my step-father insists, that I, know nothing. I want to yell, I want to scream out: “YES I DO!” But my mother insists I stay quiet. My mother insists that I should submit to his whims, my mother insists that I must behave for him, to not anger him, DO NOT ANGER THE BEAST! This is what I am taught every day!

Don’t you dare make him mad, don’t you dare have opinions, don’t you dare have a say. Because you are a 5’4, 14 year old female, raised by a single mother and a ***** donor. Because you come from the bottom of the heap, so why should you? Because you are bullied, because you are quiet, shy, short, nerdy, and you want to have a voice.

Dear Dad,
I know that you're somewhere else,
hopefully somewhere beautiful,
somewhere where you aren't in pain anymore.
It all just happened so fast,
Christmas Eve I was out to dinner with you
later that night you were gone.
Trust me,
that was the worst present I've ever gotten.
It hit me
that it'll be 17 months without you in 10 days
and I still pick up my phone and try to call you
but then I remember you aren't there anymore
and I can't.
That's what kills me the most,
because the people that have their Dads to talk too
treat them like ****
because they don't know how it feels
when they can't talk to him at all anymore.
If I could go back in time
I wouldn't have treated you the way I did,
because I can't help but hate myself for not
hugging you back more and kissing you more
and telling you how much I actually care.
Ever since I lost you Dad
it's been really hard trying to let people in
I don't want too lose someone that means so much to me
it killed me inside
especially losing you because
now who's going to walk me down the isle?
or kiss my baby girl's head
and hold her like you once held me.
It's night like tonight
when I cry myself to sleep and ask myself
a million questions about why you had to leave me,
when I needed you the most
and how I'm going to have to get over the fact
that you aren't going to be there to watch me grow up anymore.
I know that you're my guardian angel and
that you look down over me
I just wish that I would've said I love you more
and got to say my actual final goodbye

Like a body in water I float and I drown. Like worms to the earth I keep going down. Like a deer in my headlights I stop and I freeze, but just like that, you snap, and I'm back and I fall to my knees.
Falling like snow we melt on the ground. Crying and dying without a sound. I'll disappear and you'll never know. I'm a king and I'll be fine on my own.